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Message-ID: <52038asstr$1127193011@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Stiff by JiMC (34 of 46)--MF, FF, mc, md, magic, romance
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Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2005 01:10:11 -0400
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This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 34--Serenading

        Look what they've done to my brain, ma!
        Look what they've done to my brain!
        Well, they picked it like a chicken bone,
        And I think I'm half insane, ma.
        Look what they've done to my song.
        - What Have They Done To My Song? (Melanie)


    It turned out that Sherry had her mother's car--she got
her driver's license a few weeks earlier.  Merry agreed to go
with Sherry before I could offer any objection.  The two
girls hopped into the car and took off to the Swift residence.

    June noticed me looking after them.  "What's wrong, Jim?"

    "Sherry just got her license.  Do you think Merry will be
safe?"

    "Sherry passed her driver's test, Jim," June said,
shaking her head at me.  "She's proven that she's capable.  I
doubt that the state of Illinois will give a license to a
dangerous driver."

    Of course, June's impeccable logic only made me worry
even more.  After all, this very state gave a license to my
father.  My father loved to drive, even after consuming
enough alcoholic beverages that he would be asked to leave
the premises that he consumed them in.  Of course, he would
insist on driving home.  My mother and I were occupants with
him on too many of those occasions.

    However, I didn't think equating Sherry with my father
would be fair.  I actually liked Sherry, after all.

* * *

    June and I arrived at my apartment a few minutes after
Sherry and Merry safely arrived.

    I heard some guitar music with a lovely voice singing as
I came upstairs.  It took me a moment or two to recognize the
singer as Kristen, singing a version of _Proud Mary_, totally
unlike any that I've heard before.

    "What's wrong, Jim?" June asked, as she noticed me stop
on the stairs.

    "That's Kristen singing," I said.

    "Really?" June asked.  She looked at me.  "That doesn't
sound like her voice."

    "You haven't heard her sing when she thinks she's alone."

    Apparently, Kristen didn't adapt her voice to make
herself sound like the original performer, as I tended to do.
That was something that my friend Roy taught me a few years
prior.  When I was learning to sing, I admitted to Roy that I
hated hearing my own voice when I played it back on tape.
His suggestion was for me to try to imitate other singers.
It took some work, but Roy and I both shared a love of music
that made the effort worthwhile.  Soon, we were imitating
each other as well, which is why our voices sounded so nice
together when we sang duets.

    Anyway, I continued to stand in the stairway as Kristen
finished her song.

    "That's beautiful," I heard my sister tell Kristen.  "I
always thought that Ike and Tina Turner's version was sexy,
but I think I like your version better."

    I instinctively grinned at Merry's remark.  I've lived
for a number of years listening to my sister compliment my
music ability.  I was glad that Merry was willing to do the
same to my Goddess.

    "Here's one that I've been working on," Kristen said.

    I heard a delicate acoustic guitar intro.  I closed my
eyes, trying to place the chord sequence.

    It didn't take very long.  She started hitting the chords
more forcefully, and then I heard Kristen sing:

        When the truth is found to be lies,
        And all the joys within you dies...
        Don't you want somebody to love?
        Don't you need somebody to love?
        Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
        You better find somebody to love!


    I was floored.  Aside from the fact that she was playing
an acoustic guitar, Kristen was able to perform that number
that would rival Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane.  The
effect was very ethereal.

    "Kris is very talented," June whispered to me.  "She and
you would be a killer..."

    I noticed June had stopped talking.  I turned to my
friend, and saw that she was just shaking her head.

    "Why don't the two of you play together?" June asked.  "I
mean, she was there in the jazz band at school, but the two
of you as a singing duo would be wonderful!"

    Actually, I was thinking the same thing.  I remembered
that the Swifts had told me that Kristen had formal voice
lessons and could play the guitar.  I was just curious as to
why Kristen would perform for others, and she had never
offered to do so for me.

    "What's wrong, Jim?" June asked, noticing that my face
must have registered some of the emotions that I was feeling.

    "Nothing," I lied.

    June wasn't convinced, but she had the sense not to push
too far.

    After Kristen finished _Somebody To Love_, the others in
the room were complimenting her again.

    I started walking up the stairs again.

    June was a bit surprised that I started going up, but she
caught up quickly.

    When June and I entered the apartment, everybody's
attention turned to me and June.

    I noticed that Kristen's guitar was against the love seat
where Kristen was sitting.

    Nobody mentioned Kristen's singing and playing when I
arrived.

    I had no idea what to make of this.

    "Jim!  June!  Come on in!  We've been waiting for you
two!"

    Kristen gave me a big kiss, and then gave one to June.
Merry decided to get in on the action, and gave me a kiss on
the cheek, and did the same to June.  Lynette, not wanting to
be left out, kissed the two of us as well.

    "Is that your guitar, Kris?" I asked, indicating the
instrument leaning against the love seat.

    "I was picking at it before," Kristen said.  "Lynette
wanted to hear me play."

    I waited a couple of seconds, but Kristen didn't add
anything else.  She didn't offer to play for me, I noticed
once again.

    June probably knew what was going on in my mind.  Even
so, she said, "Ooh, can I hear you play a song?"

    Kristen blushed, and said, "Maybe later."

    I felt hurt that Kristen didn't seem to want to play in
front of me.  Why was that?  She never had any problem
playing piano at the school, although I now recalled that she
only started playing to help Amy.

    Lynette changed the subject and she, Merry, June, and
Sherry started talking about cheerleading.

    I sat down on "my" recliner and pretended to listen to
the girls talk.  In my mind, however, I was brooding over
Kristen's actions.

* * *

    Later on, we all went downstairs to the play room and
Kristen started up a game of pool.  Lynette and I teamed up
against Sherry and Kristen, and I only took a half-hearted
shot at a stripe and missed.

    After Kristen and Sherry won, Merry and June were up.  I
excused myself and went into my studio.

    Why wouldn't Kristen play for me?  She didn't seem to
have any problems playing for anybody else--even my sister!

    I looked at my electric piano, and started doodling on
it.  After a couple of minutes, I was startled when I heard
Lynette's voice behind me.

    "What's got you upset, Oogie?"

    "Nothing," I lied.  I continued playing what I had
started before... a doodle that consisted of my left hand
playing a D-minor and G-major back-and-forth progression,
with some improvisations with my right hand.

    Lynette noted, "That sounds a bit familiar.  What is it?"

    I started thinking about the chord progression that I was
using.  It was simple, and as Lynette had indicated, it did
seem a bit familiar.  Instead of answering, I simply shrugged
and continued doodling.

    "You're either upset at June or Kris.  I can't believe
that it's June, so you're mad at Kris.  What's wrong?"

    Again I shrugged, and continued the improvisation.

    Lynette continued to listen to me play, and I tried to
think where that chord progression came from.  I continued
bouncing back between D-minor and G-major for eight beats at
a time.

    Suddenly, the song hit me.  To make sure, I filled in the
missing chords, continuing to improvise with my right hand.
D-minor to D-augmented to F-major and finally to G-major.
"_A Taste of Honey_," I said to Lynette, playing the melody
line finally.

    "Oh yeah," Lynette said, recognizing the tune.  "It was
almost there, but it sounded strange."

    I nodded and went back to improvising on the song's
actual chord progression.  I noticed that the in-between
chords could be left out during the improv and made it easier
for me to doodle against it.

    "You're angry that Kristen played the guitar for me and
not for you," Lynette observed.

    I didn't answer, but I felt wetness in my eyes as Lynette
voiced what was going through my mind.

    "She's scared of you, you know," Lynette softly said.
"She doesn't think she's good enough for you."

    What did Lynette say?  I actually stopped playing and
turned to stare at the blonde behind me.  "How did you get in
here, Lynette?  Wasn't the DND light on?"

    "No, Oogie.  Look."

    I noticed the switch was down.  I apparently forgot to
turn it on when I came inside.  Had I been that distracted?

    "Kristen's not good enough?" I asked.  "Who told her that
bullshit?"

    "She thinks it, Jim," Lynette said.  "Now you've left her
in the play room, despite the fact that Sherry and Merry are
really your visitors.  You're not being a good host.  I can
imagine how Kris feels."

    I felt like a heel.  Of course, Lynette was right.  The
girls were here at my invitation; they were my guests.  As a
proper host, I should be there with them.  Just the same, I
knew that I'd have to have a talk with Lynette later about
Kristen.

    I nodded to Lynette and the two of us left the studio and
returned to the play room.

    Lynette and I came in as I saw June sink the eight ball.

    I did a double take, realizing that June and Merry had
beaten my lovely blonde Goddess.

    "We win!" June cried happily.  "You're up next, Oogie!"

    Smiling, I took my cue from the rack and started racking
the balls for June and Merry.  As I did so, I saw some looks
pass between Lynette and Kristen.  I ignored them for the
most part.

    June sunk a solid on the break, but missed her next shot.
Lynette and I were able to beat June and Merry, and we went
for our rematch against Kristen and Sherry.

    Lynette broke without sinking anything.  Sherry was up
next, and sunk a ball but scratched when the cue ball also
fell into one of the pockets.

    I carefully placed the cue and took my turn, sinking six
balls in a row before missing.

    Kristen sunk a number of balls in return, but missed her
shot on the eight ball.

    Lynette cleared the rest of our balls but missed the
eight ball.  Unfortunately for us, Lynette left an easy shot
for Sherry, who sunk the eight ball.

    After playing a few games and listening to songs on the
radio in the play room, Kristen suggested that I take Sherry
on a private tour of the music studio.

    When we got there, Sherry uttered a surprised, "Wow!"

    I grinned at the cheerleader, proud of my studio.

    "You have three keyboards now?" Sherry noticed.

    "Uh, huh," I said, proudly.  "The upright, an electric
piano, and this is an electric organ."

    "Reel to reel deck, too," Sherry said, impressed with the
setup.

    "It's called open reel," I said, grinning.  I had a tape
that I had been working on that neither Lynette nor Kristen
had noticed when they were in the room.  It was actually
something for school.

    The previous year, in October, there was a talent show at
the school that I never got around to entering, mostly
because I was preoccupied with my new relationship with
Kristen, and the new responsibilities of having a jazz band.

    This year, I was going to enter, and I wanted to see what
Mr. Proilet thought about my idea.

    "I've been working on something, and you'll be my first
test audience," I told Sherry.  "Not even Kristen has heard
this one, yet."

    "Cool!" Sherry gave me a mischievous look.

    I set up the standing mike for the final track, which I
had flubbed a couple of times the last time I tried to
record, so I decided to do just the lyrics.  I have always
found that I usually sang better when I have an audience.
The actual music parts were pretty easy for the song I was
doing.  The song really needed a drum part, but I didn't play
those very well, and I didn't even have a drum kit.  I was
going to need somebody to help me at the talent show.

    I sat Sherry down at the other end of the room, so when I
was standing behind the mike stand, I'd be facing her.  I
looked around, and almost everything was perfect.

    "I'll be right back.  I need some props."

    "Huh?"

    "One second, Sherry.  Be right back."

    I left the room, and went across the hall to the
"recovery room." In the closet was a denim jacket that I had
put there right after I decided on the song.  In its left
pocket was a pair of dark horn-rimmed sunglasses.  In the
room, I even had an unopened bottle of Vitalis that I had
snagged at a drugstore.  Even back in the 1970s, it was a
relic, although it wasn't impossible to find it in the
stores.  I rubbed the slick stuff through my hair and combed
my hair into a 1950s style pompadour.  I looked like a
greaser from that era.

    I looked in the mirror and was satisfied with the effect.

    I ran back to the studio, closing the door, and then I
turned on the DND light.

    Sherry started giggling when she saw my new persona.

    I smiled at her and put my finger to my lips as I started
the recorder.  I heard my acoustic piano track start the
intro, and started to sing:

        Oh...
        Well...  I'm the type of guy
        That'll never settle down.
        Where pretty girls are,
        Well, you know that I'm around.
        I kiss 'em and I hug 'em,
        'Cause to me they're all the same.
        I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em.
        They don't even know my name.`
        They call me the Wanderer,
        Yeah, the Wanderer,
        I roam around, around, around, around.


    I saw Sherry grin as she recognized the song.  I had a
special surprise for her in the next verse:

        Well, there's June on my left,
        And there's Lynette on my right.
        And Sherry is the one, yeah,
        That I'll be with tonight!
        And when she asks me
        Which one I love the best,
        I tear open my shirt,
        I got "Kristen" on my chest!
        Cause I'm the Wanderer,
        Yeah, the Wanderer,
        I roam around, around, around, around, around...


    At the actual moment I was singing about opening up my
shirt, I opened the denim jacket, and there was a piece of
paper with "KRISTEN" written in magic marker pinned to my
shirt with a safety pin.  This caused Sherry to laugh out
loud, which I knew meant that I'd have to do another take of
the song.  I was going to need to find a better directional
microphone.

    Actually, knowing that I'd have to do the take again, I
found myself to be much looser.  I continued the song, and
started singing much more freely as I hammed it up for
Sherry.  I grabbed the mike with both hands, singing like a
crooner.

    I had a trumpet track that played the same part that the
sax played on the Dion recording of the forty-five.  During
that solo, I twirled the microphone on its cord like Tom
Jones or Roger Daltrey would do during a performance, which
also generated laughs from Sherry.

    At the end of the song, Sherry started applauding.
"That's fantastic, Jim!  You sounded just like... what's his
name?"

    "Dion and the Belmonts?" I offered.  "Dion is the guy
that sings '_The Wanderer_.'"

    Sherry gave me a small grin.  "Do you really think that
I'll be the one with you tonight?"

    I laughed.  "No," I answered, truthfully.  "I never
really had anybody for that third part.  The last time I
recorded this, I used the name Cammy."

    Sherry's eyes widened for a quick moment, but she
recovered quickly and said, "Well, you can use my name if you
want.  You recorded that, right?"

    "Your laughter ruined the take, so I'll probably do the
track again later."

    "Oh, I'm sorry..."

    "No need to apologize," I assured Sherry.  "I needed some
practice with it.  If it went perfect, I would have been
happy, but I have until school starts to get it perfect."

    "School?"

    "Talent Show."

    "You're going to enter?" Sherry asked, surprised.

    "Why not?"

    "You'll probably scare away anybody else that wants to
enter, then."

    Shit.  I would hate to be a disincentive to anybody at
school.

    "Well, I could also use it for a demo tape that Gerry can
forward to Puppy Dawg's."

    "Are you starting a band?"

    I shrugged.  "Yeah.  I figured that I might as well start
earning my keep.  Anyway, do you mind sitting through another
attempt?"

    "You're going to record it again?"

    I nodded.

    "I promise not to laugh this time!"

    I reset the recorder, and got back to the microphone.

    This time, the song went perfect.  I rewound the tape and
played it, realizing a bit that I was subjecting Sherry to
the song three times in short succession.  However, as I was
doing the playback, I added a portable cassette recorder into
the output of the pre-amp to mix the four tracks down to
one--a setup I had jerry-rigged when Roy came over for a
visit a week before.

    After I was satisfied that the song sounded all right, I
shut the machine off, and popped the cassette tape out and
handed it to Sherry.

    "For me?" Sherry asked, quite surprised.

    "You sat through three renditions of that song.  That's
for hanging on like a trouper."

    Sherry took the tape, and I could see that she was
genuinely impressed with that small gift.

    Meanwhile, I left the studio, turning off the DND light,
and entered the "recovery room." I took off my costume and
placed it back in the closet, and threw away the "KRISTEN"
paper that I had safety-pinned to my T-shirt.  There was a
towel in the room, and I used it to try to remove the gooey
Vitalis from my hair.

    When I realized that the attempt was fruitless, I wrapped
my head in the towel and exited the room for the shower.

    June was just coming out of the playroom.  "Ahab the
Arab?" June asked.

    "Huh?"

    "The towel on your head."

    "Oh," I said.  "No. I got something in my hair and I was
going to rush in and dunk my hair under a shower for a
moment."

    "Oh," June said.

    Sherry left the studio, and June smiled at her.  "We're
still playing pool, Sherry.  Want to join us?"

    Sherry looked at me, and I said, "I'll be in the playroom
in a few moments.  I want to wash this crap out of my hair."

    "All right," Sherry said.

    I went into the shower, and took one of the hand held
shower massage units and turned on the water, pointing the
spray toward the wall.  When it was the right temperature, I
bent down and sprayed it on my head, being careful not to get
my clothes too wet.

    A few minutes later, my hair was wet but no longer
greasy.  It smelled fresh from the shampoo that the girls
favored, which was purchased from Kristen's hair stylist.

    I wandered into the playroom to find June, Merry,
Lynette, and Sherry playing teams.  Kristen was watching, but
not playing.

    Walking over to Kristen, I planted a big kiss on her
lips.  "Hey, loveliness!"

    "You're sweet, Jim!" Kristen said, smiling broadly.
"Sherry sounded impressed with your recording."

    "I may want to rerecord the vocals again."

    "You're a perfectionist."

    I shrugged.  "That's the beauty of having the four track.
I can record and rerecord until it's perfect."

    "You're wet!" Kristen said, looking at my hair.

    "If I said that to you in front of Sherry, you'd blush!"
I said, giggling at Kristen.

    The girls reddened by my bawdy joke.

    "You've definitely spent too much time with Camille,"
Kristen observed.  After a few moments, she added, "June's
been teaching your sister pool."

    I watched Merry sink an easy corner shot.  She looked up
at me, grinned, and then proceeded to miss her next shot.

    We all played for a couple of hours until Sherry had to
leave.  We all said our good-byes to Sherry as well as my
sister, who Sherry would drive home.

    After Sherry left, Kristen told me that she had to go
downtown to do some business.

    "Business?" I asked, not being aware that Kristen had any
plans for the day.

    "KISS stuff."

    I had heard that word before.  It had something to do
with Kristen's money.  I decided to ask the obvious question.
"What does KISS stand for, anyway?"

    "Kristen Isabel Swift, Slut!" Kristen said, laughing.

    "Slut?" Lynette asked, rolling her eyes.

    Everybody laughed.

    "Camille suggested the 'Slut' part," Kristen admitted.
"Actually, other than my unofficial interpretation, I think
the final 'S' is for Securities, or Secured, or whatever.
Daddy helped me set it up--he always loved how my initials
were three quarters of a kiss!  Anyway, the company was
founded as KISS Holdings, without any periods so we don't
have to actually explain it out.  It's just a holding company
consisting of a few people that Mom, Dad, and the bank
recommended.  It's how I manage my money.  I even have
business cards and stationery in the event that I need to
impress somebody."

    I shrugged.  "I'm glad it doesn't have something to do
with that stage band that uses all those gaudy costumes."
Actually, Kristen's financial business wasn't much interest
to me.  "How long will you be gone?"

    Kristen smiled at me.  "I love the guy in the cat
makeup," she said, still smiling.  She then answered my
question.  "A couple of hours, Oogie.  Want to come along?"

    I shook my head, as I said, Kristen's financial dealings
were of little interest to me.  Kristen pretended to pout,
and then insisted that Lynette come along and keep her
company.

    That left June and I for the rest of the day, but June
told me that she needed to get home that day.

    I shrugged and once the girls left, I retired to the
studio and started working on my music, and re-recorded the
vocals on the "_Wanderer_" track so that Cammy replaced
Sherry's name, and mixed the tape down to a cassette to send
to Will as a possible gift for Camille.

    As a kick, I added a quick and dirty version of the
"_Brady Bunch Theme_" and added a second and quite dirty
verse describing the sexual exploits of Marcia as played by
Camille.

    After that, I was sorry that I had removed Sherry's name
from the track, and took three attempts to get the final
track perfect with her name on it.  I really wished Sherry
was there; she was an excellent audience.

    I put the tape away in the desk in the room, and
considered other stuff to record.

    By now, I had a ton of Fake books for all styles, and I
owned a bunch of piano/vocal books for the latest songs.  I
found it quite easy to memorize the words to songs, and
having the music around helped me pick up tunes much easier.

    I found I liked some books and arrangements better than
others, and soon learned which publishers to avoid at the
music stores.  I preferred arrangements that had the songs
written in the same key as the performance of the artist so I
didn't have to manually transpose the songs as I played along
with their records.  Even so, my vocal range wasn't as great
as Roy's, and I occasionally still had to transpose music to
get it into my own singing range.  I thought about taking up
Roy's suggestion of the two of us working on my vocals.

    The equipment in my studio grew to include a stereo
system that Kristen and I found at the flea market, to which
we added that portable cassette deck that Roy and I tricked
out.  We were going to look for a stereo cassette deck, but
since I insisted that we were going for all second-hand
equipment in the studio, the pickings were slim.  The setup,
while it wasn't the top of the line, was still respectable.
We had a tuner, amp, pre-amp, turntable, and that portable
cassette.  I could play just about any song we had a copy of
at the apartment, as well as pick up music from the local
stations.  It was fun picking along the latest tunes on the
radio.

    After about three hours of playing keyboards, trumpet,
recording vocals, and just lounging around listening to some
Sinatra and Elton John, I noticed the intercom light was
flashing.

    "Oogie here!" I announced.

    "About time you answered," Kristen said.

    "How long was it this time?" I asked.

    "Ten minutes."

    "That's not a record, dear."

    I could hear Lynette laughing in the background.

    "Mr. Proilet's here."

    My music teacher?  "Um... be right up!"

    I ran from the studio upstairs to the living room.

    Mr. Proilet was sitting in the living room, flanked by
Lynette and Kristen.  My favorite recliner was empty and
strategically located so that the three of them would be
facing me.

    Something told me that Kristen was in what I call her
"overwhelm and conquer" mode, which I had seen a few times,
most notably during the situation between my English teacher
and my High School Principal.

    I didn't take my seat, but approached guardedly.

    "Hey, Mr. P," I said.  "What's up?"

    "I've offered Kristen a job, and she's accepted."

    I looked at Kristen and saw a gleam in her eyes.

    I turned to Lynette and said, "Lynette, can you tell me
the real story?"

    Mr. Proilet started laughing.  "You know Kristen all
right!"

    Kristen didn't react.  I looked at Lynette and asked her
to continue.

    "Jim, I'm not aware of all the financial details, but
Kristen's KISS Holdings, along with her father's Swift
Holdings, are donating money to the High School music
program."

    Mr. Proilet picked it up.  "Kristen came to me a couple
of weeks ago and asked what she could do to help me out this
year.  I told her about the increase in enrollment in the
program, and that I was going to be hard pressed to fulfill
everything that I would need to do as the head of the program
at the school.  I mean, there's Mr. Ryan for the orchestral
band, but I head the concert and marching bands.  The size of
the marching band has doubled, and it looks like we're going
to be invited to some more parades this year.  There's a
chance that we might get invited to do a half-time show at a
University football game, which might mean local television
coverage."

    I nodded.  The marching band didn't interest me in the
least, actually, but I knew that nearly all of the concert
band members were in it.  They would be practicing starting
next week before school officially started to be ready for
the first football game.

    Mr. Proilet continued.  "The money from Kristen and her
father will allow me to hire two new people.  The first is a
guy that I have been trying to get for a couple of years now,
except there was no money in the school budget for him.  Last
year's concerts and musical made money, and the budget was a
bit better for this year, but still not enough to get Roger
Harris.  When Kris called me, I told her the situation, and
she offered to help fund him to work full time, taking over
my responsibilities for the marching band.  Kristen's father
made it a permanent donation, plus funded a new football
scoreboard for the athletic department.  Anyway, I'm now able
to have Roger as long as I want.  He's got experience with
drum and bugle corps..."

    As I said, the marching band didn't interest me.  I
interrupted.  "Hey, Kris!  That was a nice gesture!"

    Mr. Proilet knew about my lack of interest in the
marching band and decided to switch tack.  "I talked it over
with Mr. Yank, and also got him to make an agreement to
accept the donation, which is a grant over a period of ten
years.  In addition, Stanley has agreed to allow me to hire
Kristen."

    "Hire Kristen?  Why?" I asked, confused.

    "I've created a part time, student teacher job for
Kristen," Mr. Proilet answered.  "She will work three days a
week as Music Department Student Liaison."

    "Liaison?"

    Kristen finally answered.  "I'm to help out a few hours
to help Jean as an interface to the students, mainly to help
on some mundane chores, and extracurricular projects.  This
is all contingent on my being able to continue to take my
courses at the college and keep up my grades."

    I picked up the important two words.  "'Extracurricular
projects' as in 'Jazz Band?'"

    Kristen nodded, smiling.

    Mr. Proilet added, "The chorus, also."

    There was a strange smile on Lynette's face, and I
thought silently for a few moments.

    I realized that Mr. Proilet had worked it out so that I
would have my muse around for another year!  In addition, he
was able to hire a guy that would be able to make our band
more competitive on the field.

    "When does this Roger start?" I asked.

    "He's already accepted, and he officially starts next
week," Mr. Proilet said, smiling.  "Roger actually started
work on the schematics for the drills in anticipation, once I
told him that Kristen's word was a done deal."

    I was truly happy for everybody.  Kristen found a way to
continue to insinuate herself into my music, even after she
graduated.  In addition, I knew that Mr. Proilet wanted a
competitive marching band, and I think that made him feel a
bit better.  Mr. Proilet had been told that marching band was
outside my main interests by my Junior High music teacher,
Mr. Thurd.

    I would like to add here parenthetically that I had a
reason for not liking the marching band.  I always associated
the drills (especially the drum and bugle corps) with the
military, and I spent a good portion of my life growing up in
the 1960s, where anti-war sentiment was nearly universal
among my age group.  In other words, I considered the
marching band to be in the same league as, say, high school
R.O.T.C classes.  I don't think that I would feel the same
way if I were growing up today, since marching bands have
come a long way since the 1970s, and I think it was people
like Roger Harris that made the bands better and made them
much more popular.

    Mr. Proilet, Kristen, Lynette, and I made some small
talk, and eventually I brought Mr. Proilet downstairs to my
studio to show him some of the stuff that I was working on.
Kristen and Lynette also joined us, and I really think
everybody was impressed at what I was able to do as a soloist
with my own studio.

    Jean actually smiled when he heard my rendition of "_The
Wanderer_" with Sherry's name in it.  "You continue to amaze
me, son."

    "I'm thinking of taking a gig at Puppy Dawg's," I told my
teacher.

    "Solo?"

    "Well, Gerry's band broke up, so I was going to ask for
him and his drummer, who are pretty good.  I could use good
singers, like Roy and Stacey, and I'd like to get somebody
like Sam.  Of course, I'll involve Kristen as well."

    Kristen smiled when I mentioned her name.

    "I figured Kristen would be there," Mr. Proilet said,
smiling.

    "I can't see myself doing it without her.  What do you
think?" I asked.

    "The band you envision sounds good, but the pay may not
be worth it if you have to divide it among so many people."

    "Yeah," I said.  "The money is the difficult part.  I'm
trying to figure an angle around that."

    Mr. Proilet, Kristen, and Lynette all had the good sense
not to recommend that Kristen help bankroll a band for me.

    "You'll work something out, Jim."

    "I wish Archy was here.  I could use a good soloist.  He
was terrific on the horn."

    "Have you considered Megan?" Mr. Proilet.

    Megan was going to be a senior and she played flute in
the orchestral band.  I had heard her accompany Roy on
_Colour My World_ during the spring concert a couple of
months ago.  "I forgot about her.  She'd be great."

    Mr. Proilet looked serious.  "You're thinking more of a
jazz band than a rock band.  Will that fit into Puppy Dawg's?"

    I shrugged.  "There are quite a few loose ends, and I
need to work them out.  Any suggestions you may have would be
appreciated."

* * *

    After Mr. Proilet left, Kristen, Lynette, and I went
upstairs to the apartment.  Kristen put on one of her
favorite albums, a two record set that her parents had
imported from the United Kingdom.

    I was familiar with import records.  I had a nearly
complete collection of U.K. imports of the Beatles at my
parents' house.  I played each of those precious albums once
and recorded them to cassette, which I would listen to over
and over.  The earlier Beatle albums were much different in
their original version (U.K.) than the ones they released in
America.  Even some of the songs had subtle differences!

    Kristen, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind that she
would be putting a diamond needle--the hardest surface known
to man--in the groove of a hard to come by vinyl record.

    I learned not to say things like that to Kristen.  In
addition, the performer was Melanie, who had a few hits in
the late 1960s.

    Anyway, after playing the two records, Kristen flipped
them over and played the other sides.  Apparently, this was
the first time that she had done this with me in the room,
because I immediately noticed the first song that played.

    "Melanie made a remake of that song?" I asked, listening
to a song that was a top forty song for another group.

    Kristen looked at me strangely.  "Melanie wrote that
song, Jim."

    The song was something that I knew that was performed by
a group whose name that I had forgotten--the same group that
performed "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" for the Coke
commercial.  I thought the title was _Look What They've Done
To My Song_ but the actual title was worded differently than
the lyrics.

    I listened to Melanie's version of the song, and noticed
the singer's voice, while much more raw than the pop version
that I was familiar with, was perfect for the song.

    "I always thought of Melanie as... well, trite.  You
know, stuff like _Brand New Key_.  That song sounds good!"

    I knew as soon as the words came out of my mouth that I
had said the wrong thing.

    Kristen looked at me sadly.  "You're the last person that
I thought would peg a performer for a single song."

    I guess I looked sheepish, as Kristen came over and
hugged me.  "I'm sorry, Love.  I didn't mean to hurt your
feelings."

    "No problem, Love," Kristen said, smiling at me.
"Melanie is probably just as much a victim of the music
labels as anybody ever was."

    This wasn't the first time I heard disparaging remarks
about the music industry.  It would also not be the last.  I
also promised myself that I'd never try to shoehorn another
person into a specific genre.

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

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