Pit and the...

And now for something completely different, at least compared to the past few weeks.

Hidden deep within the bowels of my mind are stories related to "the band." Some of I have written about already, such as our last legendary performance in Dennis' basement as the last summer of our youth wound down. Or when the drummer came home from Portugal and decided that he wanted to get married to someone he had met while visiting the old country.

We had some good times banging the instruments around for a few years, myself as a somewhat willing but untalented participant as I was simply brought along because I was one of the guys. "Sure I'll play the bass, that's the one with only four strings right?" It worked out OK in the end. I had people willing to be patient and teach me what I needed to know to be able to play along, we had a loyal following of friends that enjoyed our escapades into the world of Battle of the Bands and most importantly, for the most part, we had fun. We also had a stupid name, Revelation. Back then and back there if you uttered that word you were for sure a Genesis cover band. Except we weren't of course despite playing a song of theirs, we simply couldn't think of anything better. Well, someone did but as a group we were too scared to use it. But we should have...oh how glorious it would have been for the emcee to announce, "up next, Don Bosco's own Pit and the Stool-drops!!!" We wimped out.

I think it may have been Steve who made the recommendation, since he was always making ass references and had little respect for "norms." But being young and not as rebellious as we should have been, which by the way is quite the thing to say about me and my heathen brothers and sisters, since there was almost no line we wouldn't gleefully cross. But here we chose the safe road so as not to upset the Catholic school hierarchy we all lived under. For the record though, I voted for the Pit moniker, in a losing cause obviously. Democracy at work, three to two in favour of not being labeled Stool-drops, so down the toilet the name went.

Who can say where we would have been had we chosen the other name? We may have been ahead of our times when thinking of the bands that followed in the 90's and beyond. Hootie and the Blowfish, Butthole Surfers, Ben Wa and the Blue Balls. We'll never know. But of course having a great name wasn't the only thing holding us back. The biggest factor to us not having a place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is that most of us knew it was simply a distraction, something to do for fun and for chicks. As a group we weren't very serious about pursuing a life in music. Looking at where we are now; an investment banker, an engineer of some sort, an insurance executive and little ole me as a chef, we were probably right not to be so passionate about being the next big thing. Me thinks Pit et al would not have gone very far, despite our cool name.

The second and final year we entered Battle of the Bands at our school was really a special time for us all. In many ways we were at the top of our high school game. We came and went as we pleased, we enjoyed a level of notoriety that bellied our disdain for popularity and the little band of misfits made up of my closest friends simply lived out loud pretty well. When we played that year we played for our buddies. It was quite special to be up on stage, not petrified with fright like the year before, watching people sway and sing to the music that we were playing. Were we the best musicians? Probably not. Certainly I wasn't, though Dom and Danny were pretty darn good players of their particular instruments. We played with some heart and had picked some songs that got the crowd involved, which in the end is what music is about, the connection with the listener.

When we won, we won it for all of us. I still recall Dennis and Steve leaping over the chairs to be with us when it was announced. It was elation and we soaked it all in for the rest of the night. Drunk on life was the comment later on when we gathered at a pizza shop to enjoy the spoils. And I was. An au natural high that left me and all around us with perma-smile.

A simpler time with simple goals, simply happy. A few months later we would play together for the last time. Within a year we had gone from friends until we die to a remember when glory days recounting. Who would have thought? Obviously we weren't unique in that way but it didn't hurt any less when one chose to think about it. Last year when I was back in the big smoke for the U2 concert, a bunch of us gathered together for a few drinks at the remnants of a bar we used to frequent. We shared stories and talked of our lives in the present. It was nice and it was fun, and despite promises to the contrary, we went back to our lives as they were before that afternoon. Best intentions aside, life got in the way. It is kind of sad but I would imagine most of us were well aware that it would be that way. Almost 30 years of time having passed between us all.

So Pit and Stool-Drops are a happy memory. Alongside all those other happy moments that formed such a big part of my life for a few years. I'm sure I get a twinkle in my eye when I speak of those days...partly boastful of my own stupidity co-joined with all the other morons and part joyful memories of days gone by.

Cheers to you all
D