Posted by Carl D (152.163.201.47) on August 01, 2000 at 07:48:18:
If he did, he mentioned it to no one. All from a man who took aspirin for 3rd degree burns.) By the end of 1998 the clusters were gone, and so was my father.
A couple of years later, I was doing good, playing guitar for a band that was (and today is still) ahead of it's time. We were a funk/punk/thrash/party band that played gigs everywhere we could. We had a happening crowd in St Louis that followed us everywhere we went and both Elektra and a division of EMI were looking at us. I will say this (with slight shame): if we were around now, we would be huge - top 40, along with the Chili Peppers and 311. Things were going good. The band couldn't keep up with the gigs, and my personal life was on full tilt. Little did I know that within one short but cataclysmic year, I would be begging for death.
1993
The day of my birthday, 1993. Most people thought it to be strange. My mother and I shared the same birthday. Yes it was strange, but also very cool. I was very close to my mother, as My father and I