I’ve decided, while stuck here at home, to get into a new business.
I am writing short vignettes about rock stars. Sort of a Reader’s Digest version of them. The best part is…..I’m making it all up!!!!
It goes so much faster that way!!!!
Here’s my first one:
In the years to come, little Ian Hunter could never remember whether it was the music from next door or the wet diaper that woke him up.
Still wearing a diaper at the age of fourteen was bad enough but to need one because of raging teenage alcoholism was doubly troubling. He could never depend on getting through the night without a gusher erupting.
He remembers how he focused on the sound coming in through the window. Little Mott heard the band in the neighbors backyard. Mott was the nickname his parents, Ethel and Julius Hunter, gave him. They had three dogs in a row named Mott and when the third one died they couldn’t bear getting a fourth dog so they bestowed the nickname on Ian. It comforted them to yell “Mott” and have something show up for dinner, even if it was just Ian.
His best friend, Larry Hoople, was out there with his siblings again. His four brothers and two sisters had formed a musical combo and were wailing on this warm spring morning.
Mott listened and thought to himself…”not bad…but that lead singer is terrible. I could do better than that!”
But first, a fresh nappie.
If anyone has suggestions for future episodes…please let me know.
Gary “Dickens” Burr