March 6, 2014
Kathy is in Pasadena taking care of our grandson while I'm hard at it, trying to plug holes in the last 44 pages of "The 66 Kid." One incident from my youth has to be mentioned because it leads directly to the KSLX photo I ran yesterday:
Mister Motormouth
In my sixth-grade class, Mrs. Bonelli instituted a fine for talking when we were supposed to be studying quietly. She assigned one of her pets, Cathy Cannon, to mark down every time someone talked when they shouldn't. I, of course, could not go very long without talking out loud because I had to entertain the class—my mission in life!
When Cathy would catch me talking, she'd make a big deal about opening her notebook and, with an exaggerated flourish, putting a mark under my name. I would tell her this was not fair and she would make another mark. Then I would make a face at her and she would make another mark.
I had amassed $5.80 cents in fines by the end of the semester. (Jimmy Covarubius was closest to me at $2 and change). When the bill came home, my parents were very upset, until they found out all the money raised would go to cancer research. The Mohave County Miner sent a photographer to take a picture of the class, featuring me as the top donor.
I didn't realize it at the time, but the motormouth skills I was honing in Mrs. Bonelli's class would later pay me big dividends.
The Jones & Boze radio show on KSLX where being a Motormouth paid big dividends (1986-1994)
Rising above, WAYYYYY above, the rest of the Exits on New Year's Eve, 1964.
Drum Riser From Hell
As a drummer I hated being in the back. All those tall guitar geeks standing in front of me, blocking my view of the girls. And more importantly, blocking the girl's view of me. After we all saw Ringo's cool riser on the Ed Sullivan Show, my good friend Rick Ridenour asked me if he could make me a drum riser in shop class. He asked me how high he should make it and I said, "Same as Ringo's, maybe four feet high." I paid for the materials ($40 in wood) and Rick built a massive-three-piece behemoth that took its own truck to hall to gigs. Here I am, above, and at right, looming over the proceedings at the Girl's Gym on New Year's Eve, 1964. We partnered with DeMolay and played for half the door. The band made $280.
The Competition
We didn't have enough musicians in Kingman to have three bands and, in fact, had to steal from each other to make up two bands. The Dimensions were our biggest competitors. Mike Torres on lead guitar, Verne Andrews, Terry Anderson and Burt Hands, on drums, were from the class of 1966, a year behind us and to our way of thinking, the upstarts. Eventually, as you shall see, most of these musicians became part of the Exits family. One thing the Dimensions had that the Exits did not, is Go Go Girls. Below you can see The Dimensions rock out at the McCarthy Ford Dealership in 1966. Those rockin' babes are the incomparable Paup twins, Mo and Coe as they were fondly known. This lineup of the Dimensions features Kenny Kingman on drums.
The Dimensions rock out at McCarthy Motors in downtown Kingman, while Mo and Coe (Maureen and Corrine) Paup do a compelling Frug out front.
Yes, that is, in fact, Coach Baca in the background, between Verne and Mike. Our baseball coach and the guy who nicknamed me Boze.
"Would a clown by any other name sound so sweet?"
—Boach Kaka