[ ]I've had some nicknames in my day. The longest-running is Doctor Octafer, which is still in use. I can't remember them all...and certain ones like "ShithooK" or "Dickhead," which I admit I've most-assuredly deserved at times, probably aren't registered like the more fun ones are. "Billy Bullshit" is a personal favorite, and comes from soon after the Octafer one. The Generic Band was playing a gig at the Nick and our master-of-ceremonies Scott Leader was introducing the band. We were best buds but when he got to me, somehow he forgot my name. He was looking back at me and we were both cracking up. Finally he said "On drums...Mr. Billy Bullshit!" We all lost it laughing. I don't get to use that one much but on my Facebook page where it says how to pronounce your name, if you click on it it says "Bil-ly Bull-shit." I doubt anyone's ever noticed but I think it's hilarious.
[ ]The next nickname didn't last but maybe a year until the band broke up, but it was a good one. This is actually two stories that revolve around the same random guy...a kid we met briefly at a gig at a frat party in Colombia, SC. He was a "pledge," a first-yeat frat brother. Occasionally they'd make them help bands move equipment, which was always nice. One of the pledges that showed up to help was noticeably grinding his jaw. I called it "chewing air-gum." He was really working that jaw, and I doubted he'd done enough coke to get that geeked that early in the day, so I figured he was doing X, which he was.
[ ]It was Halloween and it was going to be a huge party. All but one of the other guys in the band were planning to dress up and trip on acid that evening, but I thought some X might be fun. Instead of asking him outright I said "Dude, what's your favorite letter of the alphabet?" "X" he said. "Thought so. Think I could get a tab?" I asked. "I'll see what I can do" he said. "I really appreciate it man. Can I give you some money?" "No, I'll have to look around a little." "Okay, 'preesh" I said. "Happy to try" he said.
[ ]We set up and then farted around and went and had dinner and a look around the town. A couple of the guys had brought costumes, sort of, and at the last minute I decided to do my default sad-clown (Emmett Kelly) face that I've done a million times on Halloween. I had to borrow some makeup from a couple of gals, who watched transfixed as I turned myself into a clown. Girls love that shit. Anyway we did the hurry-up-and-wait thing, which we dealt with by smoking a bowl or two. We were excited, and so was everybody else. We'd played another Halloween party for a frat there the year before. They'd done the place up to look like a cemetary, with cobwebs and blacklights and ghosts in sheets and shit. Oh and plenty of sororiety sisters. It was a sauna that night too. They had a huge kitchen and that's where we went to toke-up on the first break.
[ ]Like usual I was sweating, and when I took my t-shirt off I saw a stack of cotton aprons, and grabbed one to dry off. "I dare you to wear just that" said O', out of the blue. I couldn't refuse a dare like that so I stripped naked except for an apron. It covered my goober but not my skinny ass. We didn't trip that night but I did a drum solo, and hipped the people who hadn't noticed already that I was almost naked, and in the middle of the solo O' came behind me and fanned me with a towel. Yep...that's why you learn to play music. Anyway the kids knew us and were primed for a fun time.
[ ]I had a feeling the kid who was X-ing would come through, but I hadn't heard from him before we started playing. The other guys had semi-dressed-up and they'd dosed, but I was holding out for the X, and hoping I'd see the kid on the first break. I didn't, so before the second set I decided to join the other guys, and I put two drops of 25 on my tongue. It was chilly that night but when you have 250 or more warm bodies packed into a room and grooving and dancing it turns into a sauna in five minutes. I'd sweat like a whore in church no matter if it were Summer or WInter. I set up right next to an open window so I could be as cool as possible.
[ ]Since it was Halloween and we were tripping I guess and for whatever reason I did a drum solo. Most times the only solos I ever did were when the other guys would gang-up and slowly drop out and MAKE me do a solo, but anyway this night I was doing one. The solo started around half an hour into the set, so the acid was starting to kick-in. I was seeing purple ripples like in a pond when I'd hit a drum, and layers of colors and patterns flew from the cymbals. I was really having fun. Whether or not the solo was any good I have no idea, but it was fun.
[ ]Halfway through the drum solo a movement in the window caught my eye. I looked over and there was a hand sticking in, with a blue tablet in the middle. Dude had come through. I was already tripping pretty good, but I decided WTF and kept playing with my left hand while my right hand picked up the tab and ate it. "Thanks man!" I said. "How much do I owe you?" "Nothing" he replied. "We love your band. It's on the house" "You sure?" "Sure." "Much appreciated man!" "We appreciate you! Have fun. Catch ya later." Off he went into the night. I never saw his face. Or knew his name.
[ ]Back to earlier in the day. After I'd broken the ice about the X and he realized we were just regular guys he started talking to us about what it was like being in a band. He obviously knew there was a lot of work involved, so we told him a bit about things, and how much fun it was to get to travel around and see new places and meet new people, and hopefully give them their money's worth and then some. We told a couple of crazy band stories and he and the other pledges were into it. Dude got quiet for a second and then he said "Um...do any of y'all ever...you know...hook-up with any females on the road?" As if it were well-rehearsed (the sign of a good band), all four guys sort of made a frowny-face, pointed to me and said, in unison, "HE does." It was classic.
[ ]"I see" said the kid. "'Box Magnet,' eh?" I'd never heard that term before and it cracked me up. The other guys died laughing too and started calling me "Box Magnet." I didn't brag too much about my extra-musicular activities in the band, although it was hard to really hide them, but I have to admit it was a proud moment, and I loved the term. "Box" of course is slang for a certain part of the female anatomy. I'd never heard it paired with "magnet" before, and it had a great ring to it...Box Magnet. I immediately thought it'd be a great name for a band, but it really sounded more like a comic-book hero in an animated cartoon, with lots of scantily-clad women with nice, perky cartoon-breasts. At the start of every show the announcer would say "BOOOOXXXX-X-X-X-x-x-x MAGNET-MAGNET-AGNET-GNET-NET-T-T-t-t-t." In every episode Box skips saving the day and goes straight to getting the girl. Anyway for a while my nickname was Box Magnet, or just "Box."
[ ]Box Magnet...I like it. The law of attraction...literally and figuratively and every whichaway. I can dig it. Box...a word for one of the best things in the world. Magnet...one who attracts it. I can dig that too. Box Magnet...it's fun to say and there'a a certain energy when you say it. It's a strong phrase. Had it stuck, "Box" wouldn't have been a bad nickname really. It would've been a conversation-starter for sure. Hey, I've been called worse.
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