1954

- I hear Gary is in a new band. Any good?
- Nah – they’re playing is as shitty as the last one he was in and with an even tackier drummer than before, as if such a thing were even a fuckin’ earthly possibility.
- Christ. That’s rough. The last one couldn’t keep time on his watch.
- They fired the one before this one because they said he didn’t have the chops they were looking for. So there is a guy even worse than this one, although it seems they were drawn to this one because they were impressed by his rig. Seems like he has a full pro kit.
- But can’t play?
- Neither for shit nor shingles.
- Are they getting any gigs?
- They are playing at some lentil-eating, freedom onanist festival somewhere in support of some prisoners in one of the more stagnant political backwaters of Africa, so I am told.
- I’m sure they could do with their help and the five dollar twenty they will be raising for the cause.
- That’s what I told Gary. He didn’t quite see it that way.
- So what are they calling themselves?
- Well, they settled on the name ‘The Pendulums’.
- The Pendulums? What in the great shiny green fuck almighty is that all about?
- I was thinking about that. One the one hand they might just be thinking that it’s a cool-sounding name and would look good on the bass skin.
- Maybe. Maybe not.
- Or they might think that they are in some way using that name as a metaphor for some higher reason, like they are causing some effect in their audience.
- Fuckin’ boredom and a desire for a full fiscal refund on their purchase of a ticket most likely.
- Maybe so, but that last one appealed to me.
- ‘Course they also might be thinking that they actually are pendulums.
- You mean literally?
- Sure. And you know what that means, don’t you?
- That they’ve been at the fuckin’ peyote again, I imagine.
- Too right. Mine’s a double.
- Double peyote on the rocks coming right at you.