By  May 1978, it appeared that Lee Pickens was finally giving up on trying to lure Boogie away from us. Bobby Albin had gone off to Longview to play with a new band. Rusty Burns from Point Blank sat in with us. He was incredible on guitar! Plays left handed. Mark Ballew was back in town again and had been dropping by to sit in. Lot's of great jams going on at the Hungry I.

Late in May, we decided to have a Roast night at the club. The idea came from the celebrity Friar's Club Roasts that were on TV from time to time. We wanted to have a night when we could take turns "roasting" our fellow band mates. It was an all around strange night. We all wore odd costumes and nobody really knew what was going on except for us; another example of us entertaining ourselves without regard to the audience.

RJ had just gotten a perm, and his hair was fluffed out like a poodle. He wore a Hungry I shirt with a clip on bow tie. Jim shaved half of his beard off! Really! One side was beard and the other clean shaven! That took balls! I wore a pair of plaid golf pants left over from the Saggy clothing collection, and a black T-shirt. Later in the night I donned a bald cap. Boogie didn't participate in the costume part, but did come up with some really great zingers for us.

Essentially, this was just an excuse for RJ and me to drag out the old "2001 Insults" book again. We had a lot of fun that night, and once the audience figured out what we were doing, they got into it too. This was before Andy Kaufman. People didn't always get it. Sometimes we didn't even get it!

There was always something going on at the Hungry I. I recall a big fight at the club one Friday night that broke out on the dance floor right in front of Boogie. He took off his Stratocaster and jumped off the stage into the big middle of the brawl! There weren't too many fights at the Hungry I, but that was one we won't ever forget.

Being in the band always made me feel safe from danger while in clubs. Nobody ever picked on us. I don't completely understand how that worked. It would've seemed that a lot of guys would've had plenty of reasons for wanting to punch our lights out, when their girlfriends looked at us the wrong way, or even worse -- when we ended up dating them. There seemed to be a magic bubble protecting us in those days. People would get busted in the alley ways behind the clubs, have wrecks or get arrested driving home loaded, and on and on.  Yet, the guys in the band were somehow shielded from such harmful events.  Except the night I got mugged at the U-Totem.

The U-Totem was a convenience store in Diamond Hill near the garage apartment. I drove up there at about 2:30am one morning to buy some cheese for sandwiches. It was the only time I can ever remember actually locking that old VW bug, which was a big mistake. I didn't notice the two giant shirtless blobs until I was already all the way near the back of the store. They looked like the BAD wrestlers I'd seen on local TV while growing up. Both were bald, bloated, and had scars all over their torsos. One was chatting with the store clerk at the register and the other was leaning against a wall staring at my every move.

I'm sure I was asking for trouble with these guys just by my very appearance. A big bull's-eye painted on my forehead would have been redundant.  My long red locks of pre-80's rock and roll hair pretty much invited trouble with these two bubbas. My defenses went up before I got to the cheese section, but it was too late.  Bubba number one was headed towards me with a befuddled look. He was asking me what I was looking at.  I mumbled something about just needing some cheese.  It was too late to bail. I casually got the cheese and headed to the register where Bubba number two looked at me with a crazed look and started shouting that I was NOT going to rob that store!  I was trying to confirm this when the girl behind the counter started apologizing for their behavior, but it had no effect on them. They closed in on me slowly. It was like being in a Mummy or Frankenstein movie where the monsters move so slow that you just know you should be able to get away -- but...

I put the cheese down and headed for the door. They followed close behind. Nobody was running yet. If I ran, they would run. I could only run as far as my car and would have to stop. They would run into me and I would be crushed against the car. Bones would break. Running didn't seem necessary against these two speed-challenged monsters.  I felt that if I just got far enough from their marked territory everything would be ok. Bad plan. As they closed on me,  Mummy got a hold of my arm as I went through the door, and he gave me a shove. I flew across the sidewalk and slammed into my car. Reaching for the door handle, I realized I'd locked the door! Why, God, had I locked that stupid door? Who would steal such a pile of junk? My hand frantically worked its way into the front pocket of my jeans to get my keys, but my pants were so tight that it made it difficult. The two lunatics were inching towards me like a pair of Siamese Sumu wrestlers joined at the hip. Confused at why they hadn't already snapped me in two, I finally got the keys out of my pocket and started looking for the key to the car.

Never had I noticed so many keys on my key ring before. Why did I carry so many, and what were they all for?  I couldn't have really needed more than three of those stupid keys, yet there were 20 or more to sort through.  It was becoming apparent that I wasn't going to escape without some kind of bodily injury.  Had I just unlocked the car and drove off, they might have let me go -- but  a guy with so many needless keys needed punishing!  

Frankenstein stepped in and pushed me again. He was just toying with me, the way a lion toys with a kill before eating it. It wasn't a damaging blow, but I'd expected one. He was shouting obscenities and shaking his big blobby white tattooed fist at me. I finally found the door key and then tried to steady my shaking hand long enough to insert it into the lock. Then the Mummy Returned.  Half resembling the giant marshmallow man from the Ghostbuster movie, he stepped up to take a swipe at me. Both of these guys must have been too wasted to follow through with their threats because it was another warning volley.  Why was I still alive? Why didn't I see a long dark tunnel leading into a bright light?  

The key turned and the door swung open. I had to dodge one or two advances and pull away from one grasp before jumping into the car and shutting the door. I expected them to literally pick the car up and eat it whole, but I was moving in double time by then and cranked the car and drove at least three blocks in reverse.

Maybe the sacred protective band dude trouble bubble was still working after all.  I wasn't hurt, but I was real angry! If I'd had a gun I would've shot someone that night. Probably myself in the foot. Still, I was too mad to sleep that night. It was a wakeup call for me about random violence in the world. This poor man's version of Tweedle Dee and Dum were out there and I knew they were going to hurt someone if they would just sober up enough to enjoy it. 

First thing the next morning, I called the main offices of U-Totem. All I got was the run around. I wasn't a very assertive guy back in those days, and ended up just letting it go. I did steer clear of U-Totems from then on though.

Word drifted around the club that our ex drummer, Ralph, had married his girlfriend, Mary. Mary had been following the band from almost the beginning at Little Joe's and had been a close friend, fan, and supporter -- one of the original Muggettes. We were NOT invited to the festivities. The marriage did allow us to feel better about replacing Ralph. In a way, we'd given him a parting gift without realizing it. Our fan base dwindled by one. We bucked up and took our consequences. 

Looking back on it, Ralph didn't seem to be cut out for our juvenile brand of rock and roll. Our antics and practical jokes visibly got on his nerves. He seemed tense and uptight most of the time. The dude probably just wanted us to cut the BS and play music. We didn't know how to do that. On at least one occasion we looked to Ralph as the "parent" figure in the band.  I can remember one time in particular when me and RJ tried to drive over to Ralph's apartment after someone had slipped us an elephant tranquilizer. We'd spent most of the morning jumping off the three foot high front porch of my parent's house, squealing and laughing with delight as if it were a ride at Disneyland, before the bad effects hit. When the black fog hit, we thought we were dying for sure. The world was suddenly distorted. The windshield of my VW seemed to have shrunk to the size of a postage stamp. It took both of us with all four hands on the wheel to drive. But Ralph wasn't home. We had to climb up the rain gutters -- like in a Zoro movie -- to his balcony and go in an open window, where we slept it off until he got home. It was an adventure at the time, but a dangerous one. Innocent people and brain cells could have died. I'm sure that when Ralph got home and found we'd broken into his home and had passed out on his bed, he was probably ready to move on anyway. Good times.

I was spending a lot of time learning card tricks and sleight of hand magic. A club called Savvy's appeared up the street, featuring a house band named Savvy. They were playing a lot of disco and show band stuff complete with a horn section. Our crowd tried it but didn't like it, and it was soon evident that Savvy's was not going to be a threat to us. If anything, our fan base kept growing even larger. Savvy's had relocated from Arlington and brought their fans with them. Some of their followers were looking for a little more rock and roll in their diet, and ended up frequenting the Hungry I too.

Mom and dad were getting along great again. Thank goodness! RJ and I traded sleeping arrangements at the garage apartment, which meant I would now get the privacy of the bedroom, cob webs and all.  Danny Cochran dropped by and played us some tapes of Jerry Williams. Boogie warned the band that a group of punks might be out looking for a fight as a result of the big recent brawl at the club. Nothing ever came of that. 

I attended a five year high school mini reunion. Five years? Whoopti-do. (As I write this, I'm approaching my 30th.)  Doug Wadsworth came home on leave from the Air Force. I worked up an obscure Leon Redbone song started playing it at the club. Can't believe it but the audiences were soon actually requesting it! We also worked up a new Joe Walsh tune, "Over and Over." 

Rick Myrick and Rusty Boden dropped by the garage apartment to watch our latest movie re-dubs; "Bugs Bunny's Gun" and "Tora Tora Bore-a". After the movies we played them some old Future Shock tapes we'd recorded of them a few years earlier. They asked us to come out to their gig at Dr. Balls and record their new group, featuring David Crockett and Bobby Wilcox. 

Steve Todd told me that Emma (booking agent) screwed up Sidewinder's dates for the Hungry I. RJ and I finally got an air cooler working at the garage apartment just in time for summer. David York, Butch McReynolds, Rusty Boden, Danny Cochran, and Lou Tielli jammed at the club tonight. As a special request for Rusty, we ran two movies; a Popeye cartoon and Desert Fox. Re-dubbed. They went over very well.

By the 21st of June, RJ and I were broke again. When we showed up to play at the Hungry I we found that Emma had messed up again and booked Sidewinder on the wrong nights. We took the night off and went to see Jaws II. After the movie we went and checked out Sidewinder. On a break I was doing some magic tricks at the bar. One of the tricks uses a small palmed reel with an invisible thread connected to it. I put a dollar bill on the floor next to the bar and when someone would reach to pick it up, it would immediately snap up into my hand. It was a riot, until Sidewinder's bass player, Lee Parks, broke it. I'd been getting into magic a lot lately and got a booking for an outdoor magic show for a group of Foster children. It was my first big solo magic show since that first day I'd met Doug Wadsworth, which lead to my joining Don Hudson and the Royal Kings almost three years earlier.

I fixed up the bathroom at the garage apartment. It was finally functional. Upon completion I celebrated my efforts by soaking in a hot bath. Outside the bathroom window I could hear RJ's mom and aunt next door. They were concerned about something but I couldn't tell what it was. Suddenly, a loud man's voice was heard, shouting something about killing somebody! By the time I could get out there, nobody was around. Nobody got killed either.

David Crockett called again. At long last, he was very serious about wanting to go to work with us. He promised that THIS time it was FOR REAL. He had a great PA system, lights, and phenomenal talent as a drummer. RJ and I had to give serious consideration to this -- for about two minutes. We'd been down this road with David before and it always ended up the same. He was really overqualified to play with us and we all knew it. When he'd find himself in-between gigs he'd call us as a safety net. But he always got another good gig before we could hook up. The same thing happened this time, too. We never heard back from him. Minutes after calling us, he was offered a gig in LA to play with Phren-z. I'm sure that must have been a tough call for him to make; Desperados at the Hungry I on Lancaster in Ft. Worth, or Phren-z in L.A.. Phren-z was a very hot band!  David was a great guy and a terrific player. They were the perfect match and frankly we were happy that he'd even pretended to consider us. But as much as we'd have loved to have David in our band, we'd made a decision to stick with Wade. The band was finally feeling like a family. We had no intentions of breaking it up. That, as the song goes, was "up around the bend."   

The Savvy Sagas