The White Water Band II
A long day at the office, a short night on the blog.
The White Water Band membership settled to Harlan, Jim, Terry, Kirk and me. We practiced in a chicken coop. Harlan's family had at some point in the past--when I was a good bit younger, I think--raised chickens. On their property were two large cinderblock facilities where the chickens had been kept, but by the time the band came along, the chicken-raising was over. We cleaned the chicken poop and dust and cobwebs out of one of these structures, turned on the power and set up our equipment. It was a neat place (neat as in cool, not as in tidy), sitting on the edge of a creek that separated it from the highway. A wooden walkway, something like a covered bridge led from the side of the road to "The Coop."
The widows were, as you might expect from a chicken house, covered with chicken wire, and the sound got out into community pretty well. In the summer, Mom used to be embarrassed when we practiced on Wednesday nights and our covers of Kiss or the Doobie Brothers could be heard at whichever Walnut church was holding prayer meeting. I wonder how much people actually talked and how much she imagined. In the winter, we covered the windows with plastic and turned on heaters of some sort, miraculously managing never to burn the place to the ground.
The band's other "space" was our bus. We bought an old school bus and painted it blue. It was something to behold!
243
The White Water Band membership settled to Harlan, Jim, Terry, Kirk and me. We practiced in a chicken coop. Harlan's family had at some point in the past--when I was a good bit younger, I think--raised chickens. On their property were two large cinderblock facilities where the chickens had been kept, but by the time the band came along, the chicken-raising was over. We cleaned the chicken poop and dust and cobwebs out of one of these structures, turned on the power and set up our equipment. It was a neat place (neat as in cool, not as in tidy), sitting on the edge of a creek that separated it from the highway. A wooden walkway, something like a covered bridge led from the side of the road to "The Coop."
The widows were, as you might expect from a chicken house, covered with chicken wire, and the sound got out into community pretty well. In the summer, Mom used to be embarrassed when we practiced on Wednesday nights and our covers of Kiss or the Doobie Brothers could be heard at whichever Walnut church was holding prayer meeting. I wonder how much people actually talked and how much she imagined. In the winter, we covered the windows with plastic and turned on heaters of some sort, miraculously managing never to burn the place to the ground.
The band's other "space" was our bus. We bought an old school bus and painted it blue. It was something to behold!
243
posted by mac | 6:53 PM
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