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Yah-mon I see da Queenbee in there...
600 Km to New York via Turnpikes.
That's what the sign read. We were on our way. Regardless of how things actually
turned out we were giving it our best shot. CBGB's here we come.
The Ballistics 13 in NYC. Its not a hard thing to imagine. Lots of bands have
played CBGB's before and I'm pretty sure that some of them were pretty bad too.
This was just a quick thing. Not a lot of pre-planning involved. It was just the
four of us crammed into a Dodge Ram Quad Cab with all our "stripped down"
equipment in the back along with the bare essentials in terms of clothes.
We did have a photographer though. Uncle Phil.
He was leaving a few hours after us, because of work, and was going to meet us
in Clifton, New Jersey, at the Ho-Jo, right on the highway leading into the
Lincoln Tunnel.
We made pretty good time. Around 10 hours. We arrived at the hotel around 9:00
am and tried to get settled in and rest a bit before we went onto the island to
promote our show for the next night.
I don't remember what time it was when I got the call from Phil. You know if you
get a phone call in a hotel far away from home and only a limited number of
people know your there, the odds are good that it's bad news. And sure enough,
it was bad. Phil had broken down in Pennsylvania, and he had already gotten a
room at the Emlenton Motor Lodge.
I looked up on the map where this little town with a red-neck name was and after
a little calculating, I figured that it would be another ten to twelve hours of
driving to go get him. We had just gotten in after a ten hour drive! We all
needed our rest. We didn't need the pictures that bad.
I told Phil to sit tight and wait for us to do the show the next night and we'd
be there around 3:00 to 5:00 am on the morning after we played. He understood,
but I could tell he was really pissed.
Immediately after I hung up with Phil and I told Psycho, Dusty, and Stink what
was going on, the jokes started flowing. Punxsutawney Phil this and Punxsutawney
Phil that. It was actually kind of funny.
Well CB's was everything that we hoped it would be. We had been there once
before to book the show, but actually being there on THAT stage......... I think
we played extra good that night. The good spirits were everywhere, and we could
do no wrong. New York to me seems to be filled with only good people that know
how to have a good time. Our experience there went against everything that I
figured New York would be.
We finally rolled away from 315 Bowery at around 11:00 pm or so and after a few
crazy turns in and around Manhattan, we made our way through the Lincoln Tunnel
into New Jersey. We made a quick stop to get road munchies and I made a few
calls to make sure that "Punxsutawney" Phil was still in the motel there in
Emlenton. All seemed well.
Sure enough at around 4:30 am we pulled off I-80 on to highway 208 and entered
the thriving metropolis of Emlenton, Pennsylvania. There was a pretty good sized
truck stop there and we had no trouble finding the Emlenton Motor Lodge on top
of the hill next to the interstate.
But something wasn't right. We drove around the motel and we couldn't see Phil's
red Grand Am. We drove back down the hill and drove around the truck stop. Then
we drove up and down the highway. Nothin'! Back to the motel???. Back to the
truck stop???
We finally went into the truck stop. Ooooops!
This place was about as RED NECK as you could get. Phil didn't speak badly of
the place except for it being really, really, really boring. He did sound a bit
on the crazy side after being here for a couple days, but all he had to do was
stay there and wait. We would be there. It sounds simple enough to me.
You have to remember, we had just gotten off the stage from CBGB's and hadn't
changed or showered. Psycho and Stink had the fiery Mohawks just blazing away
and they had so many studs and spikes in their clothes they looked like
stainless steel porcupines. Dusty was decked out in his best stage leathers and
I still had my white psycho ward shirt on with "patient no. 666" across the
back.
I tried to communicate with these "people" at the truck stop and it was like
trying to have a conversation with a piece of chewed bubble gum. I know we
looked a little different but at least I like to believe that all of us in the
band have some sense in us.
We got nowhere in the truck stop so we decided to go back up to the motel. After
around 10 minutes of prowling around and peeking into windows I found what had
to be Phil's room. The window was open and it was the only room with some soft
porn playing on the TV, "Tool" blaring out of a cheap CD player on the coffee
table and a bunch of black candles burning all over the place.
I was able to break into the room without too much trouble. The place was a
mess. Empty whip-its on the dresser, liquor bottles all over the place, food and
garbage piled up...... but no Phil.
I told the guys to sit tight while I drove around some more on an even more
extensive search of the area.
I got back to the motel room at around 5:00 and things started to get worse.
When I got back into the room the guys told me that the state police had Phil
and that he was in the county hospital in Clarion about 20 miles back up I-80
towards where we came from.
I told the guys to stay put again while I drove back down to the truck stop a to
make a call to the state police. I was really getting pissed. This was like a
bad dream. The friggin' phone in the motel wouldn't let me dial out. Nothing was
going the way it was supposed to. The guys were starting to show the strain
also.
I made the call to the state police station in Clarion and talked to the desk
sergeant. Things were going from worse to down right horrible. It seems that
they found Phil about 5 miles down the road on I-80. It looked as if he tried to
drive his dead or dying car, for what reason, I don't know, around to break up
the boredom. He was sitting on the edge of a bridge on I-80 over the Allegheny
river just dangling his feet when they found him. This had all happened around
2:00 to 3:00 am.
The cops weren't holding him for anything because he had voluntarily gone from
the hospital to the mental health clinic next door for an evaluation. The cops
said that it appeared that he was going to commit suicide. They started to get
kind of curious about me. Where was I and where was I going. This was all on the
phone so it's not like the "Pigs" could get me. But I was still glad I didn't
need to have this conversation face to face.
Then they said that Phil could use the moral support from a family member and
they wanted me to drive back towards Clarion 20 miles away and visit with him.
We were all still pretty buzzed, even five hours after getting off the stage at
CB's, and I didn't think the cops would look kindly on me if I showed up at the
county nut house dressed in a white psycho ward shirt with "patient no. 666" on
the back.
Under no circumstances would they let him go anyway. One of the last things the
desk sergeant asked me was if Phil was know to be a violent person. I told him
"NO". Then he asked me if I knew why he would be carrying a meat cleaver in his
back pocket. That was too much. I told him maybe he was scared to be out by
himself at night. I don't know.
That was the final straw. I told the cop I'd be up there soon, then hung up with
him. I went back up to the motel room and told the guys what was up. I wanted
everybody to either be with me or we wouldn't go. I really didn't want to go,
but I felt like I had to. I didn't feel like making the decision for everybody
so I asked for a vote. One for going back and getting him, two "I don't give a
shit's" and one "Hell NO!".
That was it. We threw all Phil's stuff in the back of the truck as quick as we
could. The stuff in the room would have bought everybody a night or so in the
brink by itself. We jumped in the truck, pointed it west and hit the gas. Sorry
Phil. You should have stayed put.
We all got back to Detroit ok except for one. He stayed a temporary resident in
the county nut house for 30 days in Clarion PA, courtesy of the state of
Pennsylvania.
We never did get any good pictures.
Have fun, and hey! Thanks fer stoppin' by!!!!!
"Q"
