Hidden Wheel. Michael T. Fournier. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Michael T. Fournier
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Историческая фантастика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780983581369
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Vallejo: He had ranking before he retired.

      Lou Schwartz: It was all rumor before the internet.

      Ralph O’Keefe: I looked him up online. He was a great, great player. One of the hundred best in the world, at one point.

      Lewis Brinkman: I don’t like to talk about my past.

      Sven Gunsen: A humble man. There were stories underneath his exterior, but he never let those stories surface.

      Rhonda Barrett: His wife and daughter were killed in a car accident.

      * * *

      8:00 AM: Wake up. Push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups. Masturbate (weekends only, upon acceptance).

      8:30 AM: Shower, get dressed.

      8:45 AM: Breakfast. Coffee (new or reheated), yogurt, granola.

      9:00 AM: Journal.

      9:30 AM: Work. Pamphlets, newsletters, catalogues.

      Noon: Lunch. Hummus, pita, carrots, celery.

      12:30 PM: Work. Pamphlets, newsletters, catalogues.

      4:00 PM: Bike to practice space.

      4:15 PM: Warmups

      4:30 PM: Drums.

       Band practice days:

       4:30 PM: Jam

       5:00 PM: New Material

       5:30 PM: Set run-through

       Non-practice days:

       4:30 PM: Rudiments

       5:30 PM: Set run-through

      6:30 PM: Bike to apartment.

      6:50 PM: Dinner. Fish or tofu, rice, steamed vegetables.

      7:30 PM: Read. Philosophy, economics, criticism.

      9:00 PM: Unscheduled free time: socializing, etc.

      Midnight: Bed.

      * * *

      No. Go on.

      Are you sure?

      Go on.

      He was trying to streamline minimalize right when he started reading Ayn Rand playing drums said he wanted to get serious about being effective it was like okay good luck with that Louis he was a great roommate too real quiet which is funny because he always wandered back and forth on the stage stamping his feet like he was trying to bust through. Stomp stomp stomp. Stomp stomp stomp! Hey man what’s wrong you look like something’s bugging you did I say something?

      I remember the stomping. Sorry. Keep going.

      * * *

      The Dingo Concert Series, a name he imagined before he booked a single band there, lasted one show.

      Internet searches yielded the Pee Valves, a three piece alternating between feedback-drenched pop and complex songs which Ben thought willfully obtuse, and Stonecipher, a duo consisting of a girl on bass and a skinny bespectacled man in white behind the drums.

      The Pee Valves headlined. Their bass player Louis’ pacing stomps shook glasses on tables at the front of room, near the windows. They played all of two songs before a scuffle broke out in the back.

      And Stonecipher!

      They were terrible.

      The drummer never played the beat, not once. And the bass player, the girl, pounded away at her strings with her fist, yelling into the microphone. The room’s sound was awful—he was not asked to return; no big loss from an audience standpoint—so discerning lyrics was difficult. He wasn’t sure there were any, so much as there were utterances sandwiched by growls: “mouthbreather” and “second and long” and “I’m not a people person.” Songs began and ended seemingly on their own accord, with no structure discernable amidst the rumble. He had been mesmerized by the five or six fans in the front, fists raised, banging their heads to nothing.

      The duo loaded their gear into the back of a battered Nova parked in the rear lot. He asked if they wanted to smoke.

      I’m all set, the drummer in white said.

      Day shift tomorrow, the girl said as she hipped her amp into the Nova’s trunk. Thanks, though.

      Ben produced a quarter from his khakis and handed it to her, along with fifty dollars.

      What’s this?

      A sample, he said, of what’s available. And your take of the door.

      She opened and sniffed. What is this?

      The particular varietal I have today has no name per se, as it is my standard. On occasion, however, gourmet mircobatches become available.

      Amy opened the bag and inhaled deeply. This is standard?

      Ben nodded.

      Is this like a hundred grand an eighth?

      Forty-five, Ben said. Eighty for a quarter.

      That’s cheap, Amy said.

      Quantity, Ben replied. At any rate, thank you for playing the show this evening. I will be in touch regarding future performances. And please, don’t hesitate to contact me.

      * * *