Once, and it’s true, Casey and I were in the same band. It was cool. And once we played a bar in Maine, Casey’s birthstate. (After that gig I drove us through the woods to a trailer in which the band slept; that might not sound cool or anything, but the directions had been locked in the club when they locked up; and I was drinking Tequila; and we were in Maine.) But at that gig we played with what we discovered were a religious band called, I believe, “Six Ways From Sunday.” There was a dude in a wheelchair in the “audience.” Of course up until we play I’m going back and forth between the bar and the hang-out table like Marion Jones on…well, like Marion Jones. But this dude started wheeling himself around a bit as “Six Ways…” was starting to play. And it was at that point that I said the coolest thing I’ve ever said: “Ten bucks says that fucker walks tonight.”

Yeah. True story. I had completely forgotten that band. But who the fuck is Marlon Jones?