28: Bill and the band ate brunch together and were still conversing about the band. "How did you all meet?" Bill really was quite intrigued by all of this.
"Well, actually, that's quite an interesting story. I mean, of course I've known Lowe since we were three. When we we went to Marble Cliffs College, we rented a small apartment together and Alexander answered our Roommate Wanted ad in the college newsletter. It made the rent cheaper to divide it up three ways and we liked him because he was a musician like us. So anyway, one night, I was exhausted because my Astronomy class had both a test and a practical in the same day, which is detestably impractical. Getting back to the apartment was no relief because the three of us got to fighting about some stupid thing I don't remember," admitted Jeffrey with a thoughtful look on his face.
"The dishes. Alex was being a jerk like 'Oh, those aren't my dishes,' even though we all knew they were," Lowe interjected. Alex's eyebrows furrowed.
"No, you ho! They weren't mine, asswipe," said Alexander with a punch to Lowe's shoulder.
"Well, so we each went to our rooms after the argument. In my room I picked up my old guitar in order to blow off some steam, but I was too frazzled to play anything. In a moment of inspiration, I put down my good guitar and went to my closet to pull out my other guitar. This one didn't play for shit, but it looked cool with his mahogany finish and blackened edges like it was burned or something. I decided I was going to destroy it so I dug my hatchet out of a box.
"My first swing was kinda lame. I barely nicked the guitar because I had no idea how dense the wood was underneath the paint. It felt really good just to swing the hatchet so I swung it again. This time I managed to chip a tiny fleck of paint off, revealing the grains of wood hidden below. That was quite satisfying so I kept hacking away at it. I didn't realize the noise this was creating, but Lowe did. He came in saying, 'Sounds like a train wreck in here, Jeffrey. What ya up to?'
"I told him I was destroying my guitar. He asked if he could give it a shot and I said, 'Sure, go ahead.' Being more physically muscular than I, Lowe did some major damage to that old thing. We took turns swinging the hatchet and laughing the whole time. Alex eventually came to see what was up.
"We offered for him to give it a shot. He swung and I swear the guitar bounced up a foot into the air and flipped onto it's face. Alex's eyes lit up and he swung again. The hatchet had been a birthday gift from my cousin on my twentieth birthday and the guitar I had just found in a dumpster. It had no strings when I found it. I restrung it, but it just smelled like burning plastic when I plugged it into my amp so it just sat in my closet, gathering dust. As we took turns swinging, the plastic pick guard came off chip by chip revealing the internal wiring. Alex managed to dislodge the volume knob which had all kinds of colorful wires hanging from it. The carpet was full of wood chips, paint flecks and plastic chips. For days afterward, I found guitar detritus in the most unlikely places all over my room.
"When Lowe took a swing, it severed one of the strings which rapidly curled up and cut Alex's hand in the process. Alex was all whining like a baby about the cut, but Lowe wasn't too impressed. 'Aw that's nothing,' he said. 'You should see the one I got when I fell out of a tree.' He pulled up his sleeve to show Alex and me a massive scar that went all the way from his wrist to his elbow.
"At this point I lifted my pant leg and showed them the burn scar on my leg. 'I spilled chicken soup on myself because the bowl was hot.'"
Bill looked at Jeffrey's leg. "Oh, I remember that. When we took you to the hospital, the police came and asked your mother and me if we had deliberately burned you like we were punishing you or something. They thought we might be abusing you."
Jeffrey looked sadly at his father. "I didn't know that. I do remember that all I was worried about was that you and mom would be mad that I broke the soup bowl."
Bill was mortified. "My God, I am so sorry that you would think that of us. Our only concern was for your health. I cried when the doctor was mercilessly scrubbing away the dead flesh from your wound. They had to cut your pants off you and we could see that some of your skin had stuck to the inside of your pants when they were pulled off your body."
"I appreciate knowing about your concern for me. I never knew how much that affected you. But anyway, that night with the guitar, we ended up with a hunk of useless wood, a bunch of metal, wood and plastic debris and a lifelong friendship with each other."
"And Carrie was my girlfriend at the time. I met her when she waited on me at a Chinese restaurant one night. She went to school during the day studying Linguistics and served Chinese food at night. We hit it off because we were both musicians," said Alexander.
"Alex was really sweet. Once he took me to a soccer game between a Japanese team and a Brazilian team. He was all decorated with face paint." She had to suppress her laughter. "He had painted the Japanese flag on his face. He meant well, but he looked like Bozo the clown." Everyone burst out laughing.
"Yeah, they were funny together. And it was cool when we found out that she was a DJ. We started to jam together and that was the birth of the Maine Eleven Compa..." then Lowe let out a loud, muffin fueled belch.
Carrie crinkled her nose and said, "Nice aspirated glottal trill."
"Good to see your Linguistics degree is useful for something, even if it's just to describe my burps," said Lowe.
"Well, actually, that's quite an interesting story. I mean, of course I've known Lowe since we were three. When we we went to Marble Cliffs College, we rented a small apartment together and Alexander answered our Roommate Wanted ad in the college newsletter. It made the rent cheaper to divide it up three ways and we liked him because he was a musician like us. So anyway, one night, I was exhausted because my Astronomy class had both a test and a practical in the same day, which is detestably impractical. Getting back to the apartment was no relief because the three of us got to fighting about some stupid thing I don't remember," admitted Jeffrey with a thoughtful look on his face.
"The dishes. Alex was being a jerk like 'Oh, those aren't my dishes,' even though we all knew they were," Lowe interjected. Alex's eyebrows furrowed.
"No, you ho! They weren't mine, asswipe," said Alexander with a punch to Lowe's shoulder.
"Well, so we each went to our rooms after the argument. In my room I picked up my old guitar in order to blow off some steam, but I was too frazzled to play anything. In a moment of inspiration, I put down my good guitar and went to my closet to pull out my other guitar. This one didn't play for shit, but it looked cool with his mahogany finish and blackened edges like it was burned or something. I decided I was going to destroy it so I dug my hatchet out of a box.
"My first swing was kinda lame. I barely nicked the guitar because I had no idea how dense the wood was underneath the paint. It felt really good just to swing the hatchet so I swung it again. This time I managed to chip a tiny fleck of paint off, revealing the grains of wood hidden below. That was quite satisfying so I kept hacking away at it. I didn't realize the noise this was creating, but Lowe did. He came in saying, 'Sounds like a train wreck in here, Jeffrey. What ya up to?'
"I told him I was destroying my guitar. He asked if he could give it a shot and I said, 'Sure, go ahead.' Being more physically muscular than I, Lowe did some major damage to that old thing. We took turns swinging the hatchet and laughing the whole time. Alex eventually came to see what was up.
"We offered for him to give it a shot. He swung and I swear the guitar bounced up a foot into the air and flipped onto it's face. Alex's eyes lit up and he swung again. The hatchet had been a birthday gift from my cousin on my twentieth birthday and the guitar I had just found in a dumpster. It had no strings when I found it. I restrung it, but it just smelled like burning plastic when I plugged it into my amp so it just sat in my closet, gathering dust. As we took turns swinging, the plastic pick guard came off chip by chip revealing the internal wiring. Alex managed to dislodge the volume knob which had all kinds of colorful wires hanging from it. The carpet was full of wood chips, paint flecks and plastic chips. For days afterward, I found guitar detritus in the most unlikely places all over my room.
"When Lowe took a swing, it severed one of the strings which rapidly curled up and cut Alex's hand in the process. Alex was all whining like a baby about the cut, but Lowe wasn't too impressed. 'Aw that's nothing,' he said. 'You should see the one I got when I fell out of a tree.' He pulled up his sleeve to show Alex and me a massive scar that went all the way from his wrist to his elbow.
"At this point I lifted my pant leg and showed them the burn scar on my leg. 'I spilled chicken soup on myself because the bowl was hot.'"
Bill looked at Jeffrey's leg. "Oh, I remember that. When we took you to the hospital, the police came and asked your mother and me if we had deliberately burned you like we were punishing you or something. They thought we might be abusing you."
Jeffrey looked sadly at his father. "I didn't know that. I do remember that all I was worried about was that you and mom would be mad that I broke the soup bowl."
Bill was mortified. "My God, I am so sorry that you would think that of us. Our only concern was for your health. I cried when the doctor was mercilessly scrubbing away the dead flesh from your wound. They had to cut your pants off you and we could see that some of your skin had stuck to the inside of your pants when they were pulled off your body."
"I appreciate knowing about your concern for me. I never knew how much that affected you. But anyway, that night with the guitar, we ended up with a hunk of useless wood, a bunch of metal, wood and plastic debris and a lifelong friendship with each other."
"And Carrie was my girlfriend at the time. I met her when she waited on me at a Chinese restaurant one night. She went to school during the day studying Linguistics and served Chinese food at night. We hit it off because we were both musicians," said Alexander.
"Alex was really sweet. Once he took me to a soccer game between a Japanese team and a Brazilian team. He was all decorated with face paint." She had to suppress her laughter. "He had painted the Japanese flag on his face. He meant well, but he looked like Bozo the clown." Everyone burst out laughing.
"Yeah, they were funny together. And it was cool when we found out that she was a DJ. We started to jam together and that was the birth of the Maine Eleven Compa..." then Lowe let out a loud, muffin fueled belch.
Carrie crinkled her nose and said, "Nice aspirated glottal trill."
"Good to see your Linguistics degree is useful for something, even if it's just to describe my burps," said Lowe.
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