Sample Saturday: Music, Mayhem, and Bad Decisions. Plus, a Bonus Track!

M&M frt Verson 1Hi, everyone.  While I was trying to decide what sample to share this week, I found a video that I didn’t know existed.  That helped me make up my mind.  Please enjoy this sample from Music, Mayhem, and Bad Decisions … and a sample of “Jimmy Paris” ‘s band.

Quick note: The job interview I refer to is for the position that eventually brought me to the San Francisco Bay Area.

Sean’s band usually rehearsed on Wednesdays. So, when Jimmy Paris rang me up on a Tuesday to invite me to his band’s first gig the following evening, I couldn’t think of a reason to decline.

“I’ll put you and Renée on the guest list,” he said. “It’s our record release party, too. I’ll give you a copy.”

I agreed to come to the 13th Precinct the next evening for the big event.

That day, I had my first phone interview for the transfer I’d requested. The man I spoke with, Glenn, was originally from Portland and had once worked in our local office. He was very nice, and told me that if I was selected I would not only get a promotion but that my moving expenses would be covered.

My colleagues poo-pooed the whole idea: “They’ll find someone local before they’ll pay to move you down there,” one of them said.

I replied that I was willing to wait and see. It was still hard to tick me off after my trip.

Renée and I met up outside the 13th Precinct that evening. Neither of us was sure what to expect, to be honest.

“We’re on the list,” I said to Chris, the club owner. He knew our names well; Arctic Sun had played there several times.

“Everyone’s on the list tonight,” he replied, leaning forward so that only we could hear him. “I’m not making anyone pay to listen to this shit. I only gave ‘em the gig because John’s a friend of mine.”

John was the guitarist; this did not bode well.

Jimmy came striding over and gave me a copy of the band’s single; the picture sleeve featured him glowering next to his bandmates.

“Thanks for coming out tonight, baby.”

Ugh. Why was he still calling me “baby” after all of this time?

The band started up about fifteen minutes later: a hard core riff. Jimmy Paris commenced caterwauling about how they’d never, no no never, no they’d never take him alive. I immediately understood why Chris wasn’t making anyone pay to listen to this shit and started formulating an exit strategy.


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