I Just received my diploma...

I recently got involved in blogging, HTML, etc... So, I hope that the vets of such things that are still new and intriguing to me will lend me a forgiving mind/eye when reading these first posts. I will always try to improve, try to make them easy to navigate, and post them with as much clarity as I can. Whiskey permitting…

And now, on with the show…

I remember the first time that I ever heard Michael O’Neal play, both on disc and live. The very first time was on CD, with "live" to follow months later. More on that down the road... Anyway, my old friend and former drummer of the band I was involved with during most of the early to middle ‘90’s, Paul’s Interview, Chesley Bryan picked me up at my apartment and shuffled me to his brother, Cheney’s house late one night. I remember it being cold outside, being a bit buzzed in the skull, and having an uneasy feeling about not telling Chesley about what I was taking in my little silver box to show his brother.

We arrived and I showed Cheney what I wanted him to see, and then I sat down with legs “Indian-style” in the floor. Naturally, Chesley was a bit uptight and uneasy to find out that what we had been transporting along with our clouded minds and beer was a loaded 45cal pistol and roughly 21 hollow point bullets loaded in three spare clips for “show and tell.” Not a happy man at all, but hey, Friends forgive... Especially when you have a head full of whiskey and a hand cannon. I knew that Cheney always had somewhat of a hard-on for weaponry and that he of all people could really appreciate this kind of shit!

So Cheney slaps on the CD... ‘52 Les Paul – The very first song I heard and it meant something. I’d been there and done that. I remembered pawning my guitar to eat and make rent in Austin a couple of years back. It was the worst feeling on Earth to me. I knew that even if I never played out with anyone again that at one time this piece of wood, metal, and electronics had somehow been a pathway between me and whatever God is and together that we had reached some sort of partnership. It felt like I was whoring out my gal, a feeling I’ll thankfully never feel again. Make book on that. Anyway, while hearing this tune I knew I needed to get in fast, and from the ground up! There were just two problems, O’Neal already had a band and I was too scared shitless to try and make a run at it anyway. I figured, “Fuck it.” It would never happen. The last memories that I held from playing in a band before seemed more bitter than sweet and the last memories I had of O’Neal were of him being banned from one of the local bars for publicly flogging some poor fucker and those from our childhood of us break dancing, neither of which could be a hot topic of conversation for the two of us to share. So, I quickly managed to write off any thoughts of playing with him.

Around a year or so passes and the next thing I know I find myself talking with O’Neal in one of the local bars here in our hometown. Word through the grapevine was that he was looking for some new bottom end. His last bass player, Brock Huggins, who once played guitar with him also, had recently graduated from college and was heading out of town to pursue a new job. I remember the two of us talking and me saying something to the effect of, “…really respecting the music…happy to play on a record for free…work on the weekends for me…I’d love to but simply couldn’t”

As fate would have it O’Neal calls me up the next week with as the MOB says, “...an offer you can’t refuse” - AKA more $$$ than my job was paying for the weekend, and with the encouragement of my gal I agreed to give it a run, at least for the three shows.

One of the best moves I’ve ever made.

I've had a blast so far, made a ton of new friends, and made what I feel to be three close friends as well.

As of Friday, June 10^th, 2005 (T-Bone’s in Denison) with a soft spoken, “Welcome back to the stage, Lane”… I have been involved with The Michael O’Neal Band, and ever since I’ve been itching to fire up some kind of reminder, mainly for myself (as dain bramge make one forgetful), a form of written record chronicling the various travels, highs and lows, photos, and experiences that fall important to me at the time.

This would be that outlet...

I hope you enjoy reading as I enjoy writing!

Well wishes,

Lp.