In 1982 I had just quit the touring band Southern Touch and found a local group in the Sunday Dallas Morning News Employment section that needed a lead guitar player for a working band to start immediately. I called the number and talked to the drummer/band manager who spelled out a less than favorable situation. Seems the current guitar player was too much of a drunk and causing too many problems for the other two lesser alcoholics in the band. The band was a three piece house band for a little redneck C&W bar in Melissa Texas about thirty miles north of Dallas. Wednesday thru Saturday nights 9 to 1pm. The club was called Wild Bills Cowboy Country. The drummer suggested I come up and check it out. So the next Wednesday night I tried to sneak in un-noticed to check the gig out. When I walked into the small club the outgoing lead guitar player was farting into the microphone he had stuffed up his rear end. The crowd roared. I remember thinking; don't use that mic. I needed the gig so I took it. The crowd was the same crowd every night. All locals that you got to know quicker than you might want. After two weeks I was fired at the end of the Saturday night gig for not being country enough. I was too rock and roll and they were a traditional country band. The crowd liked me, but it was not what they were looking for. I was playing requests that included rock and roll. I was the lead guitar player along with a bass and a drummer. I thought everything was fine and was a little surprised. Two weeks went by and I get a call from the band. Seems the regulars are staging a boycott and refuse to come back unless the band gets back the rock and roll guy that also plays country. That would be me. They sounded desperate! I said the only way I would come back is if I was able to call the shots in the band. I would be the new band leader. They agreed. I went back.

The bass player in that band was the lead singer. He knew EVERY country song ever written. Had a great voice. Could nail Ronnie Millsap, Freddie Fender, Merle Haggard, and everyone else's sound as well. He introduced himself as Luke Williams. Not his real name. Luke was wanted by the law so he changed his name from William Lucas to Luke Williams so he would not be found. Luke was not an attractive person. He wore eyeglasses that were so thick it made his pupils look as big as quarters. Giant sideburns that looked more like arm pit hair than beard. Very large buck teeth that all pointed in different directions that were varying shades of yellow, brown, and black. Luke also claimed to be allergic to anything but Levi's that had not been washed for a few weeks. He and his equally attractive wife lived in a trailer out in the country in an unregulated trailer park. Luke lived for our gigs. He was as serious as could be. He liked singing about bad situations. Very few happy songs. When Luke got to the end of his songs he would raise his left foot back as a signal the song was ending. Sometimes just for fun when Luke stood on one foot at the end of the verse I would play the V to force him to stand there like a flamingo for twelve more bars!

Luke would show up at the bar when they opened at 11am and sit there eating bar food till show time at 9pm. He would eat all the free stuff like pretzels, peanuts, goldfish, and buy jerky, pickled eggs, coffee, and beer. Luke also favored the truck stop caffeine pills. Luke knew so many songs that many times he would just say 2/4 in G. I would kick it off and he would sing some song I never heard before. One night after a day of eating bar food all day Luke was doing one of his obscure country pearls while I was paying minimum attention. I kind of started to pay attention when I noticed I was in lead mode where there should have been Luke singing. I looked over and Luke was about to puke. His mouth was closed. His cheeks were bulging. He was burping and had the hiccups at the same time while playing bass. He was trying his best. I watched in total disgust shaking my head thinking; this IS my band now? At some point I yelled; "SING!". At that moment Luke opened his mouth to sing and started projectile vomit into the microphone. I IMMEDIATELY turned my back and tried to think happy thoughts. The band was still playing, but if I look I might cut loose too! Luke ended up quitting the band because he thought my opinion of him was that of a clod. Could not argue that one.

I found another singing bass player. The crowd at W.B.C.C. out grew the building. The club owner cons his next door neighbor to spend his new found wealth from Rainbow Bread after his wife was killed driving one of their trucks into building a new club right across the parking lot from the old club. They asked for my input on the design. I suggested a square floor plan for maximum space. Put the bandstand in the corner at least 4' off the dance floor. By having the stage in the corner the sound would be even around the room. Put the bar to the side. Not out in the middle. They did all that plus put in a concave concrete floor with a huge drain in the middle. So they could fire hose down the dance floor at night. Then shovel the broken glass, bottle caps, teeth, and other debris off the drain grate into a garbage can every night after they closed.

I saw more brawls in the nine months I played at Wild Bills than the rest of my life total. I saw a lot of fights in the Navy. But those were just dudes fighting dudes. At Wild Bills there was no sex discrimination. I saw a chick hit a dude across the forehead with the fat end of a pool cue after he dared her to. She wound up about 400 degrees and swung with all her might. The stick broke and flayed the dudes forehead wide open. He stood there stunned, bloody and dazed. She wound up and hit him two more times before his friends stepped in to help him out to his truck. He was wobbly and still had his arms folded trying to look brave. We only knew this guy as; Outlaw. Outlaw worked on a ranch, drove a jacked up black F150 with a roll bar and lights. His bumper stickers said; Love NY? Take I30 East, and SUCCEED written over a Texas Flag. He had the rifle rack in the back window full of guns. I was sure Outlaw was heavily influenced by the Urban Cowboy movie. His best friend was a one armed cowboy named; Cowboy. The two of them was ready to fight at the drop of a hat and were at the club every night. One night a fight broke out and every single man and woman started to swing and wrestle one another. At least sixty people were involved in a cartoon bar fight. Girls were jumping on dudes shoulders. Girls were pulling each others hair out. Dudes were punching each others teeth out. Everybody was yelling. The bartenders and club owner jumped over the bar to try and break it up and were just involved like everyone else. Bottles were flying everywhere. The band kept on playing. That is what they tell you to do when a fight breaks out. The theory here is that if a fight breaks out in the back of the room; the band plays as a distraction so that the situation does not escalate. But in this case the band was the only ones not involved in the fight that went on for at least twenty minutes before the State and County cops showed up and hauled half the town to jail. While the fight was going on I called off the following songs; Up Against The Wall Redneck Mother, Help Me Make It Thru The Night, Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers. Pretty good fighting songs huh? We were never scared or worried. We knew the crowd loved us.

One night some of the local hot chicks picked up one of the regular drunks and took him out on the highway and pushed him out of a car going about forty miles per hour. He was pretty bruised up the next night when he came into the bar. The hot chick showed up to apologize. He grabbed her extended hand and broke her forearm over his knee. The next night they ran the same guy over in the gravel parking lot with their Thunderbird.  Pretty good driving for a chick with a cast on her arm.

At some point I decided to take the show on the road. Get away from the from the crowd I had come to know a little to well. I booked us some gigs in Lewisville by the lake. One night we were playing at Davy Jones Locker. A very nice local pub run by some Brits that ran a MUCH classier bar than we were use to. The dance floor was packed while we launched into the last fast verse of Cotton Eye Joe when an older couple fell onto the stage. I saw it coming. The stage was only about six inches off the packed dance floor. The heavy set lady landed on her butt and no damage was done. The fall did make a loud sound when my microphone and stand fell into the drums and symbols. All of a sudden out of the blue here comes Outlaw!  We tried to keep the gig a secret from the regulars at WBCC, but somehow Outlaw had found us and had the idea he was the bands protector.  He grabbed the old dude that was picking up his wife and started pounding him as hard as he could! I had to jump in and save the poor old guys life. "Down Outlaw! Down! BAD OUTLAW! BAD!!!!" I was yelling. I must have hurt his feelings because we never saw Outlaw again.   Whew!

One night while driving home from WBCC I was at a stop light in Garland.  It was about 2am when a drunk lunatic came running over to my open passenger window, stuck his head inside the car and started screaming for Betty.  "BETTY BETTY I KNOW YOUR IN HERE!  WHERE IS BETTY?!!!"  The light turned green.  I said; "Not here". and sped off as fast as my 1982 Ford EXP four cylinder would go.  Next thing I know I got the lunatic chasing me in his worn out Buick 225.  He passes me and slides his big car into a road block as his hubcaps go flying off.  I am in a much slower car,  but more maneuverable.    I am able to steer around his smoking overheated dinosaur car.  Next thing I know we are racing the wrong way down one way streets repeating the same block and evade move several times.  Usually when I come home at this time of night there are cops everywhere in Garland,  but not this night.  The chase went on and on.   I was finally able to fake the lunatic out by letting him do his slide move just past a right turn I was able to make and elude him from that point.

That's showbiz!