Welcome to my ORANGE ROOM!!! Pull up a bean bag and I'll light some incense as I recall the tale of I SWERVED TO HIT A DOG.
It was August of 1980...John Lennon was still alive and I had recently moved back home after the experiment with communal living had failed. Maiden Cane had recently disbanded with Marty disappearing into the springtime night. It's its absence, I joined another band called The Untouchables. It consisted of three old friends from Bartonville and another guy I had only recently met. We were being booked through Peoria Musical, so we were gigging pretty regularly. I had just turned 21 and my next door neighbor and long time friend and I were once again playing in a band!!! Needless to say, we partied hard whether playing rock n' roll or just taking in some music on those fabled NICKLE BEER NIGHTS!!!!
For those too young to remember, The SECOND CHANCE and other establishments began hosting quarter beer nights to attract people and soon, the novelty had worn off. NICKLE BEER NIGHTS were the answer!!! I was as broke as any other musician, so a pocket full of coin was all one needed in those days of sex and suds.
One one particular weekend, The Untouchables were playing a weekend gig at a club called THE CROCKERY. Friday and Saturday night! I guess my drummer and I must have decided that since the upcoming weekend was going to be busy, we might as well go out the Thursday night before and get hammered on nickel beers. Nothing beats a long weekend gig more than being tired and hung over! We would bounce back!!!!
I wish I could remember more of this Thursday evening! I drove us in my 1973 blue Maverick which had cost me a whopping $100.00. It was my third car and by far the most expensive. I actually had an 8 track in this car and it was quite an improvement over my first two cars which had cost $30.00 each. While at the Second Chance, I seem to recall watching a band and drinking the cheapest beer on earth until mugs were almost an annoyance! Bring on the PITCHERS OF BEER!!!!! We began drinking from the pitchers of beer. That seemed to make more sense since a mere mug of hops was just slowing us down.
As we left the club and got in my car, ( no seat belts of course) it began to rain. A few hitters wouldn't kill us right? Just a nice way to cap the night off before home and bed...and a weekend of rock n roll. The fact that we spilled the hitter box should have been the first sign that things were taking an ugly turn, but we managed to get it together enough to put the car in drive and begin make our way back to our cozy homes.
We were only a mere minute from home as I tuned left to navigate the Maverick onto the street leading into our neighborhood. Strawberry Fields Forever played on the 8 track as the bald wiper blades danced to the music... desperately trying to keep the rain off my windshield so I could see where the hell I was going. It was then that I learned the how fast a person could stop at car....BAM!!!!!!
Apparently, the other car parked on the road was parked the wrong way AND sticking out a little too much for a musician riding on AUTOMATIC PILOT!!!!! I had cruised home this way hundreds of times but tonight was different. My car came to this abrupt stop... peeling back the front right side of my car like a sardine lid taking with it the right front tire and any suspension it rested on. You should have seen the other car!!! My body was catapulted into the steering wheel and my head hit the rearview mirror cutting my right temple and forehead deep. Strawberry Fields was still playing ....adding a surreal background to my friends nervous laughter. He was fine.
Shit, I got to get out of here!!!! I decided the best course of action would to be sail my vessel to port under any and all circumstances!!! It was my duty as captain of the ship!!!
And with that it mind, I proceeded to drive the THREE WHEELED car over 6 BLOCKS and SEVERAL TURNS.....the sound of the TYE ROD digging an inch groove into the asphalt, creating a perfect line of trajectory from the scene of the crime to the inevitable hideout!!! The sound must have been horrendous because it woke up my brother and he met me at the door. My friend just laughed on his way next door. I made my way into the bathroom and my red and white striped sweater was more red than usual with the flow of blood dripping constantly from my head wound. My parents were up by now and I was told to get into the shower.
As I tried to wash the blood from my gaping wound, there was a knock at the door. It was the Police!!! It didn't take much of a super sleuth to follow the trail from the accident to my house.
As luck would have it, My brother knew the cop and he seemed to just want to know what had happed. What was my statement? All eyes turned to me in my robe, blood rolling down my cheek, towel in hand. Well, officer, it was raining and this DOG RAN OUT in front of my car!!! I swerved TO HIT THE DOG and missed. I hit the car instead. The room fell silent!!!
'You mean you swerved to MISS THE DOG SIR", said the officer. It was then I realized the inconsistency in my statement. Ah , yeah!!! That's what I meant to say!!!! "you better get to the hospital and get that wound looked at" was all he said as he left our porch. I couldn't believe how I managed to get out of this one!!!! My brother took me to the ER and I remember getting stitched up and telling the nurses
to come out and see our band at the Crockery tomorrow night. They never made it.
The following night, we rocked out with my head throbbing and stitched up like Frankenstein!
I was glad the nursed didn't come.
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