From tob@cwis.unomaha.edu Sun May  2 22:42:15 1993
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Date: Sun, 2 May 1993 22:36:52 -0500 (CDT)
From: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
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Geez, get rude or something....


All right:  Four people on my `Uncut Details' list asked for the Lash
LaRue Fall Off the Drums story.   So I'm sending it to the Locals, New
Subscribers, and the `S&D' people.  This is just an overview, so just
cope with my editing (and you know what I mean!).

It all started about two years ago.
One night I had a pocket full of cold cash and a couple of boring roommates.
It was about 9:00 pm on a weekday night and I just couldn't watch anymore
television.   It took about 20 minutes, but I finally talked my buds into
going out to a bar and seeing a band called "Lash LaRue and the Rage".  They
play rockin' blues type stuff and they're actually pretty tolerable.  Normally
I don't really go for this kind of stuff, but "Lash" (real name: Larry Dunn)
has been a friend of mine since junior high school (about 13 years or so), and
I thought it would be fun to hang out and drink some beers.
  I hauled Ben and Scott out to The Ranch Bowl (regional/national venue for
music in Omaha) and we got a table in the EMPTY bar.  We started sipping
pitchers of beer and noticing that there was only *four* other people there
not including the band's crew.  It looked as though we were in for a boring
night.  I was already getting evil looks from my two boys.
  The band took the stage.  They cranked through their regular first set and
we were getting into it (read: `had enough beer at this time').  Lash
did his regular shtick; intoducing the band, et. al....   Scott is a friend
of the drummer, Mark Quinn, and when they took a break, the whole band
came over to our table (there wasn't anybody else there, remember?).  We
chatted, bought shots of tequila for the band, chatted some more, bought
more shots of tequila for the band, chatted some more, bought more shots of
tequila for the band, chatted some more....and we obviously lost track of
time.  Finally (read: now we're all twisted), Lash, Mark, and Clark (bass
player) get back on stage and go into the second set.    Blah  blah  blah
blah  blah  balah aalaha  abalhab; just a lot of rockabilly standards, but
well executed.  We were all having a good time.
   During all of this, the crew for the band was buying tequila shots for
Lash.  He was having a shot per song it seemed.  This is normal, so I didn't
pay any attention.  At about midnight, Lash was doing his rendition of _New
Tattoo_ and as he was going into is typically raging guitar solo, he started
to climb up onto Mark's drum set.  I had seen this a million times; rock and
roll behavior doesn't surprise me.

Now here's the best part:

  Lash was standing on top of the bass drum and soloing to his hearts
content.  Jam jam jamming jam.  Sounded great.   Lash started to move.
I thought, "What's that cheeseball trying to do?", as he shifted his
weight around.  Now,  I don't know if it was the high heels and spurs on
his boots, or if it was the tequila, or the heat of the moment, but in
the middle of his solo he FELL BACKWARDS INTO THE DRUM SET!!!  He stopped
playing.  Mark (the drummer) tried to keep a beat on the drums that were still
standing, but he was having a hard time doing so since there weren't many.
He was also laughing his head off.  Clark, the bass player acted like
nothing unusual was happening and coolly kept playing his riffs.  An ugly
silence descended upon the room.
  My first thought was "Oh my GOD! HE BROKE HIS GRETCH! (it's a kind of
guitar)", and then I felt guilty about thinking about the welfare of his
guitar before I thought of him.  Then I thought, "Oh shit!  He broke his
neck!!" and I was thinking about running up on stage to save my hero.
I didn't need to.  Mark was trying to play and pick up his drums at the
same time.  Clark was trying to act like he wasn't embarrassed while still
playing.  I realized that the situation wasn't critical, and I started to
laugh.  My buds caught the cool-cue and began cracking up also.  Our outburst
triggered the crew and the few other patrons and employees into hilarious
spasms of glee.  We were all dying.  My stomach hurt as I watched Clark try
to be cool and still play.  My brain hurt as I watched Mark trying to salvage
his drums and still play.  My soul left my body as I heard Lash resume his
solo while lying on his back behind a pile of destroyed percussion equipment.
He must have played on his back for 2 minutes, and now the few people in the
bar were really losing it.
   To Lash's credit, he got up, taking it all in stride (I guess you gotta
know him), and cranked out the rest of the song.   When the song ended,
the 12 people in attendance were screaming.  He apologized and said that
they were going to take a short break so Mark could put his kit back together.
We cheered until we were hoarse.  Lash and Clark came over to our table while
Mark fixed his gear.  We bought them more booze and I said "Larry (`Lash',
remember?), That was classic!  You really are my hero!"
   Lash said, "Shut up Tob.  If anybody hears about this I'm going to kill
you!!"
   I said, "Larry (Lash), this is going to go down in Omaha history.  By
tommarow it will be all over the place.  I'm innocent!"
   We all laughed some more, and by the time Mark was ready, we were chanting
"Quinn Quinn Quinn Quinn Quinn Quinn..."   Mark got on his mic and yelled
"It's Working!", which is a big inside joke since Scott's last name is
Working.   Lash and Clark went back onstage while Mark was doing his "give
us the goods or get lost" routine, and then they played straight through
until closing time.

Again, I suppose you had to be at the Ranch Bowl that night (I think it was
a Tuesday,  maybe Monday).

The funny thing about all this is that I'll be at some party, or a gig, or
a bar, or somewere, and I will inevitably hear someone bring up the "Lash-
Fell-Off-The-Drums" story.  I just smile and think to myself, "Yeah, if you
think it's funny now, you shoulda been there."     If I had this episode
on videotape, I'd be a millionaire living in the Bahamas today.

Tob


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