On my time in the Beach Boners

When Errol and I created the Beach Boners, we set out to prove that you can make a band based on a joke. When we said “wouldn’t this be a great band name?” what we meant was “wouldn’t this make a great band?”. Well we did and it did. A great man once said that you should always be doing “the biggest and best possible that one can do”. What this man never considered was what would be left after you’ve done your biggest and best possible. After you reach the top you take a look down, you realize you have barely started to climb. By that time, you’re spent and can only hang onto the rungs and hope that the winds of change don’t knock you off.

The subject of fame and greatness has already been written about by greater folk than I, but please allow my time in BB to join the collection of anecdotal caveats of fame. It seemed so simple: get paid, get a horse, pump all money made back into the reliable scratch-card economy. It’s only after you send that horse off to it’s eternal sleep using your bare hands that you finally awake. Leave bands to the real musicians and leave the real jokes for circus. They can not and will not mix.

I do not know where my bandmate is now, I have not seen him since he rode west on his newly purchased horse. I hope that he reads this and I hope that he is faring better than I am.

Trust no horse, scratch no ticket, and make it to the beach in time to see the sunset.

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