The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On Sunday afternoon, we had lunch on the patio outside the Solarium at the Swift’s main residence. Kristen, Lynette, and I arrived with me carrying a bowl of Lynette’s delicious macaroni salad that she made earlier that morning.

“Kristen tells me that the two of you will be auditioning at Puppy Dawg’s,” Daniel Swift said to me as we were eating sausages.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, smiling. “The audition will be next weekend. I was told there are a couple of other bands that will be trying out as well.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to put in a good word with the owner?”

I shook my head vehemently. “No, sir. I think we should get the gig on our own. If we don’t get the gig, then we’ll work even harder for another shot sometime down the line.”

Charley, Kristen’s mother, nodded her head at my answer.

After a few seconds, Daniel said, “OK, Jim. But please... I’ve asked you before, please call me Daniel. I don’t like the name ‘Sir.’”

“That’s fair... Daniel,” I said, smiling.

“Oogie and Kristen wrote a cool song yesterday,” Lynette remarked.

Charley was impressed. “Both of you?”

I shrugged. “Actually, we had a lot of help from the rest of the band. Lynette here wrote the refrain, by the way, while Kris and I were going nuts trying to figure one out.”

“I didn’t know you were musical, dear,” Charley said.

“I’m not, actually,” Lynette blushed. “Kris and Jim were running around in circles trying to come up with the lines, and they tried out quite a few. I just took the ones they came up with that I liked and put them together, that’s all.”

Kristen said, “Don’t be bashful, Lynette! You really helped out.”

Daniel changed the subject as a favor to poor Lynette. “We’ve got the Legion Hall for next Saturday. This is for your sister’s birthday, right, Jim?”

“Yes, sir... er, Daniel. The House Band will be using that as an opportunity for a dress rehearsal.”

“House Band?” Charley asked.

“Have you ever heard of Robbie Robertson? You know, the song The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down?”

“Robbie?” Charley asked, furrowing her brown. “I thought it was a woman singing that. That folk singer. What was her name? Oh, yes. Joan Baez?”

Kristen laughed. “Robbie Robertson wrote that song, and Joan Baez recorded her own version of it.”

Nodding, I explained, “Anyway, his group is called, simply, The Band. I like its plain name, and we decided that a simple name like that would be easy to remember and not sound pretentious.”

Kristen nodded and said, “Since we’re going to be the house band at Puppy Dawg’s, we figured we’d use that name.”

“The two of you seem confident that you’ll get the job,” Charley said. “I mean, I know that both of you are talented...”

I shrugged. “I chose Puppy Dawg’s because Gerry used to play there. There are a couple of other clubs in the area, but they’re just not as conveniently located as Puppy Dawg’s.”

“Well, I truly wish you all good luck,” Charlie said.

The House Band met for a rehearsal after lunch and we once again used the studio. The first item of business was to ensure that we would have everybody available for Merry’s birthday party next Saturday and it turned out that everybody would be able to make it.

Kristen surprised me by making an announcement.

“Since we’re officially a group now, next weekend will be a real gig—a job. Part of the present that Jim and I are giving to Merry is the party at the American Legion Hall as well as the House Band. For that reason, we’ll be paying your way. Even though we’re treating it as a rehearsal, everybody will be getting an equal split of five hundred dollars.”

There were a bunch of surprised and almost disbelieving faces—including mine.

Kristen continued. “We’re going to need some logistical support, so I nominate Lynette Robbins to be our road manager. Jim once proposed Lynette to be our general manager, but we’ll let the band decide about that. For now, we can use her to help set up the stage, and help get the instruments plugged together. We’ll also need somebody to work sound.”

I had always envisioned performing in a club, but Kristen was pointing out things that I never thought about. For instance, in Indiana when Kristen and I played our first gig together, the instruments we used were delivered by Mr. Helmut’s shop.

Gerry said, “We used Scott Hershey to work sound when we were doing Puppy Dawg’s.”

Kristen nodded. “Do you think he’ll be able to help out next Saturday? There’s also the audition a week later on Sunday.”

“I’ll ask him,” Gerry said, smiling. “He was considering a job at McDonald’s.”

I blurted out, “Does he want fries with that?”

A few people laughed. Kristen was one of the ones that didn’t and she gave me a stern look.

“OK. We’ll split it up evenly for the first few weeks. Even Jim and I will get paid, despite the fact that we’re hiring the band this weekend. Fair is fair. And we’ll work out further arrangements when and if we get the gig at Puppy Dawg’s.”

I saw mental calculations and visions of unexpected money appearing to the members of the band. Kristen’s announcement had taken us all by surprise.

“Is that all, Goddess?” I asked.

“No,” Kristen said. “I’d like a vote on Lynette for road manager. I’ve asked her if she’s interested, since a roadie isn’t a glamorous job, and she’s agreed with the stipulation that if there is a lot of heavy lifting, she might need some help from the band.”

“Why Lynette?” Frank asked.

“Lynette’s already committed to be there at all our performances anyway. She would like to help out, and she’s not really groupie material.”

This earned a polite laugh.

Kristen continued. “Lynette will also be sure to get the job done. Those of you who have seen her with the cheerleaders know that Lynette is able to deliver what she says she will. She’s not stupid, and she’ll do whatever she can to make sure what we ask her to do is done.”

There wasn’t much more discussion. Lynette got the job without anybody saying no.

Kristen smiled. “That’s great! She’ll be happy when she finds out. She’s upstairs cooking some southern fried chicken right now for people that want to stay for dinner.”

Everybody in the band had already sampled Lynette’s excellent food, and there were smiles all about.

I decided to take charge of the rehearsal now that Lynette was an official part of the band. “Lynette also helped Kris and me work out words to the Working Title song. Do you guys want to hear what we came up with?”

Everybody was interested.

The open reel was already cued up and Kristen started it.

The song started with Kristen’s two verses, and then my two verses followed them. Finally, Kristen and my duet on the refrain came up.

Despite the fact that the recording was rough, as there was no real interaction between Kristen and I singing and the rest of the band, everybody seemed impressed when the song was over.

“You did that last night?” Grip asked.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “It’s rough, I admit, but we finally have words for the song. I’d like to rework the rhythm section so it fits better, and add some feature work for the rhythm section after the first refrain. Then we can repeat the refrain before ending the song.”

Amy, to my surprise, spoke up. “You don’t have an ending to it, yet.”

I smiled at the shy senior. “We’re going to fix that today. I think we’ll have our first original hit finished today. Is everybody up to the task?”

It took a bit longer than I hoped, but the group really seemed to like the song. On the refrain, Roy and Stacy accompanied Kristen and me, making it sound even better. We finally got a set of tracks recorded.

The rest of the rehearsal was just playing a bunch of songs. Now that Roy and I weren’t deferring to each other on who should sing lead, but rather simply taking the songs we liked or the songs that we sounded better doing, it felt a lot more comfortable.

The band insisted that we play You Don’t Mess Around With Jim, the song I performed at my birthday party.

“That’s not a number for a rhythm section!” I protested.

“Why not?” Frank asked.

“Hell yeah, why not?” Grip asked.

“Well, it’s just a guitar, a bass, and drums. If you guys want to sit out a song, why not let me play an Elton John song?”

“Who says we can’t do that song with a rhythm section?” Grip asked, looking at Frank for confirmation, who nodded back.

“What do you mean?”

Frank turned to my beloved and said, “Kris, I know you can do the bass line.” He then turned to Gerry and asked, “Can you do the acoustic guitar part?”

“Of course,” Gerry said.

“Let’s do it from the top. Amy, the song on trumpet is in the key of G. That would be an F to you, right?”

Amy turned to me for confirmation.

I nodded to Amy. “Just play chords until you get the feel for it. It’s a simply rock and roll riff.”

I wasn’t used to Frank taking charge, but I was interested in finding out what he had in mind for this song.

Kristen and Steve started with a simple one-two beat. Gerry strummed his acoustic, and then I started singing, with Roy joining me to my surprise.

Uptown got it’s hustlers,

Bowery got it’s bums.

And forty-second street

Got big Jim Crittenhouse

A pool shootin’ son of a gun!

Roy got the last name wrong, but we continued, unworried.

The funny part was that Frank and Grip were able to support the song without their instruments dominating.

After the refrain after “Big Jim hit the floor,” Frank signaled me that he was going to play. He nodded to Grip, and the two of them took a duet, which sounded fantastic.

The refrain came on again, and afterward, I forgot the “Big Jim got his hat” spoken part, but Roy picked it up.

When the song was over, I said, “Frank... Grip... Lou! That was fantastic!”

“Sounds like a good inclusion for our songbook, huh?” Frank asked.

“Shit yes!”

Kristen asked if we could do Daydream Believer, which took us a few tries to get right. Grip had the trumpet part nailed, but Amy had some difficulty with the chords on the piano until Kristen went over and showed her how to do it.

After the rehearsal, most of the band went upstairs for Lynette’s fried chicken. As I was going upstairs, Chris Henderson was announced over the intercom.

I had forgotten about him.

Luckily, I was prepared. I brought down a few pieces of fried chicken and met Chris in the music studio, and keyed up the record album that I had set up.

“This is a standard march number. I want you to envision the trumpets over there, the winds in the middle, and the lower brass to the right. We’ll have the piccolo in the middle front.”

“Piccolo?”

“Megan Gallagher.”

“She’s good, but she’s not in the marching band.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I know. Now, here’s how you direct.”

I went through the motions of how to hold his hands, and then had him perform against the record. I had to constantly remind Chris where the main players were at certain points, but by the third run through he got the basics down.

“It will be easier once you have the players in front of you. After all, you know their parts now.”

“Why aren’t you doing this?” Chris asked.

“I’m not performing in the talent show. I want everybody else to look good, instead. I can do much more behind the scenes.”

Chris didn’t look convinced. “But this was your idea, Oogie!”

“Having you as a drum major is also my idea. Let’s let Mr. Harris know what you can do, OK?”

“Sure.”

We went through the march about ten times total. I could tell that Chris was starting to get sick of the music.

“Jim, I think I’ll be doing this in my sleep for the next week!”

“That’s the idea,” I said, quite serious. “You’ve got to show that you know what you’re doing. I’ll loan you the record so you can practice at home.”

“Just what my parents will love: Sousa marches all night!”

The two of us laughed, and then headed upstairs, hoping the mashed potatoes weren’t finished.

Next Saturday at the American Legion Hall, I was looking over the stage that Lynette had set up. Everything was in place and the musicians were tuning up and getting things ready.

Scott Hershey, the sound man that Gerry recommended, had come to one of the rehearsals we had earlier that week, and he arrived early for Merry’s birthday.

“I guess this is it, Oogie.”

“Call me Jim,” I said.

“OK, Jim,” Scott said, smiling. “Gerry’s best stuff with the Yokels was the stuff he said that you arranged.”

The Yokels was the name of Gerry’s old band.

I shrugged. “I have a knack for some things,” I said.

“Bullshit,” Scott said, laughing. “I can tell talent.”

“Whatever,” I said with a shrug.

“The acoustics will be a bit tricky, but you said you did this a few months ago.”

“In January. Things may be a bit different, but the high notes seemed to be overemphasized back then.”

“I’ll make it perfect for you, Oogie.”

Kristen and I picked up Merry from our house. We told her that we had set up a date with her and Roy for a special birthday present. Merry was ecstatic as she rode in the back seat of the Camaro.

After a few minutes, Merry noticed something was amiss. “This isn’t the way to your apartment.”

“Roy is in town,” I said.

“Ahh,” Merry said. “I guess he’s at the American Legion Hall, then.”

“Huh?” I asked. “What did you say?”

“All the cheerleaders are going to be there, Jim. Don’t you think that girls talk?”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise!” I said.

Kristen was laughing her ass off as she continued to drive.

“I’ll act surprised,” Merry said. “Thank you for doing this for me. Daddy still isn’t very happy about Roy, but Mom’s helping to bring him around.”

“I wish I could have helped out.”

“You did,” Merry said. “You found Kristen at my age. It’s a hard argument to beat.”

I smiled at Kristen, who gave me a quick kissing motion with her lips. “Yeah, I guess.”

At the Legion Hall, Merry acted surprised. She was surprised, however, when she saw the stage set up. “Are you performing today?”

“The House Band is performing.”

“You got the gig at Puppy Dawg’s?” Merry asked, excited for me.

“Not yet. That’s just our name. We’re thinking big.”

“You’re going to play for me?” Merry asked.

“Of course, Shortcake!”

Merry had the biggest smile on her as she gave her big brother a hug.

There were a few last minute changes in plans. Roy got cold feet on a song he was supposed to sing, Go Away Little Girl.

I have to admit that song was my own idea. After what Merry told me in the car, however, I realized that Roy wouldn’t be the perfect singer for that, especially if my step-father was still having problems with Merry having a boyfriend.

We still rehearsed the song, and if Roy wasn’t going to sing it, I would have to. Roy and I had heard Donny Osmond’s version of the song, but rejected doing it exactly his way, since neither of our voices could sound that young. I knew that there was at least one other version of that song, however, but none of us had it on record, since it was a little before our time. Instead, Roy took it about an octave lower than Donny and did it with a breathy vocal style that sounded quite nice.

Thinking about the song, I realized that it would actually have more meaning if I sang it to Merry, anyway. Since our rehearsals had me playing electronic piano on this song, I just needed to sing into the boom mike that Lynette quickly moved into place there.

Go away, little girl.

Go away, little girl.

I’m not supposed to be alone with you.

I know that your lips are sweet,

But our lips must never meet.

I belong to someone else,

And I must be true.

As I sang the song, I saw that my sister was staring at me as I sang it. I smiled at her, letting her know that I was thinking of her. I think she was realizing that there would never be anything sexual between us, and I’m not sure how she felt about that, but I felt a little pang of loss at that thought.

Frank gave a lovely trombone solo during one of the verses, and on the final verse, Scott must have turned up the gain on the piano I was playing, because it sounded a bit louder.

When you are near me like this,

You’re much too hard to resist!

So, go away, little girl,

Just call it a day, little girl!

Oh, please, go away, little girl,

Before I beg you to stay!

After I finished the song, Merry ran up to the stage and threw her arms around me. I hugged and kissed my sister, and not for the first time, I felt the bittersweet feeling of loss that Merry and I would never be an item.

However, I knew that the two of us would always be the big brother and kid sister. I think that was how it was always destined to be.

Eventually, I did manage to convince Roy to sing a song for Merry. The song was, of course, You’re Sixteen, done in the style that Ringo performed on his recent single.

You come on like a dream,

Peaches and cream,

Lips like strawberry wine,

You’re sixteen,

You’re beautiful,

And you’re mine!

Kristen and I supplied the backup vocals, much like Harry Nilsson and Paul McCartney did for Ringo’s version. Instead of playing a kazoo for the solo, Lou, our saxophone player, played it, sounding very funky.

Merry had an even bigger grin on her face when Roy finished his song. She was more restrained this time and didn’t rush the stage again, but I could tell that the two of them might take that up some other time. I was happy for my sister.

During our second set, I was listening to Roy sing, A Summer Wind, a Frank Sinatra number that Roy liked a lot, and who convinced Kristen that he preferred to sing lead on. Lynette came up behind me and whispered, “You’re not singing this song, Oogie. Will you dance with me?”

The dance floor was empty, and I accepted her offer. I normally don’t like making a show of myself, except when I’m performing, but I was not about to refuse a request from somebody who had been so helpful and generous to me over the last few months.

Lynette was an excellent dancer, and she had been thinking of doing it professionally. Her moves were graceful, although it was easy for me to follow her. Back on stage, Kristen gave us a big smile as the rhythm section did their interlude.

As I turned away from the stage, I saw that my parents as well as Kristen’s parents started to dance, although the number was a bit “old fashioned” for the younger people in the audience.

“You dance divine, Oogie,” Lynette whispered to me as the song ended.

I smiled. “I’m not half as talented a dancer as you are, my sweet!” Then I bent down and kissed Lynnette on the back of her hand before I went back on stage for the next number.

After Merry’s party, I congratulated the group on a job well done. Kristen had pay envelopes for everybody as well.

I was surprised when Kristen handed me an envelope. “A check? For me?”

“Face it, Oogie,” Kristen said. “You’re a professional musician now.”

I smiled at Kristen, who kissed me and handed a similar envelope to Lynette.

Our next big gig was going to be Puppy Dawg’s audition next weekend, but there would also be the talent show on the night before. Each of us had a lot of work to do just to get the talent show off the ground.

On Tuesday, I watched the marching band rehearse again. I could see Mr. Harris working with the band, giving them pointers where their marching could use improvement and making changes in their routine. He didn’t seem to be addressing their sound, though.

Although Mr. Harris saw me out in the stands, he merely waved at me as I watched the rehearsal.

The marching band was split into different sections by instrument, with each section having a junior or senior member as the section leader. After their rehearsal, I talked with a few of the section leaders and told them I had an idea for the marching band to appear in the talent show.

Fredericka Salinger, better known as “Freddie,” was the leader of the clarinets and she had a typical reaction. “You want us marching indoors?”

“No, Freddie,” I said. “I had an idea of how the marching band could do something a bit outrageous.”

Freddie narrowed her eyes. “Is this one of Zaniac’s stunts?”

I smiled and shook my head. “Nope. This is one of my own outrageous stunts.”

Freddie now seemed impressed. “Count me in.”

“Thanks. See if you can get most of your section to join. It will be fun and I want this to be a surprise to Mr. Harris. We’ll rehearse right after school on Friday... a couple of hours before the show. If you see the other section leaders, pass the word.”

“All right. Are you going to tell me what your plan is?”

“Let’s save it for Friday,” I said. “The fewer people who know about it, the more likely it will be a surprise at the show.”

“All right.”

The jazz band had rehearsals on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, but they were all for getting things ready for the talent show. These rehearsals were optional, so those that weren’t doing things for the show didn’t need to show up.

Apparently, when I made that announcement, more of the stragglers that hadn’t been involved with the talent show became more involved, and as a result, the music room was usually pretty packed with band students and people who were going to perform at the show.

On Thursday, I told Mr. Proilet that I had an idea for the marching band. The reason I told him was that I needed to block out a time near the start of the show when I’d be able have them go on.

“I take it Roger doesn’t know about your idea.”

I confessed to my teacher. “Mr. Harris told me that he’s always interested in my opinions, but after learning that I have no interest in the marching drills, he seems to have lost interest. I have something fun planned, and even if it doesn’t work out perfectly, it will be a good addition to the show on its own.”

“Roger said you were watching the band rehearse a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah. He waved at me.”

Mr. Proilet said, “Do you want me to talk to Roger?”

“Please, no!” I begged. “Let me do it my way. Something tells me that if I cannot get through to him directly, then a little subtlety might work wonders.”

“OK. Can I at least know what you’re going to do?”

I think something registered on my face, because Mr. Proilet immediately said, “Forget it, Jim. I trust you.”

“You don’t think Mr. Harris will mind if the band wears their uniforms, do you?”

Mr. Proilet laughed. “Do what you want, son.”

Most of the marching band showed up in the music room on Friday afternoon. My intentions with them must have mystified everybody.

I arranged a bunch of chairs that I thought approximated the size of the stage in the auditorium. In the back, I put the drummers, and the brass players were split among the sides. In the middle were the winds. I allowed the section leaders to assign positions within their ranks—I learned from watching the marching band rehearse that the leaders took their jobs seriously and I wanted allies instead of enemies.

There was a seat in the middle of the front row that was conspicuously marked “RESERVED.” I had told the section leaders that I had somebody additional that would be sitting there, and I guess most of them figured it was Kristen.

I had members of the House Band around the room, as well as Chris Henderson and Megan Gallagher, who were going to help us out. I waited until everybody was accounted for and the DND light went on in the band room before telling everybody what was up.

“I think most of you know Megan from the orchestra. She’s agreed to help us out today.”

I then asked the drum section leaders to pick out a single snare drummer, a tenor drummer, and a bass drummer.

I signaled Chris to take the conductor’s podium. He did, and I think most people were surprised when he pulled out my baton.

“Chris will conduct for us. He knows music, and I’ve taught him how to direct this particular march we’re going to do today.”

Kristen picked up her large grocery bag and started handing out the packages she purchased a couple of weeks ago.

“These are toys!” said a surprised musician when he saw what Kristen handed him.

“Yup,” I said, nodding. “But they are instruments as well. I think everybody knows how to play the kazoo.”

I was interrupted by a cacophony of hums and buzzes as the band opened their packages and started playing with their kazoos.

I had warned Chris about this, and he patiently tapped on the podium with his baton until everybody settled down.

“Yes, these are kazoos,” I said. “What I would like is for everybody to play your own parts, but play them on the kazoo. It’s important that everybody play exactly their own part! We’re going to just use the three drummers that we picked out up through the middle of the second trio.” I glanced at the music and said, “It’s marked in your music as (E). That’s where you will put down your kazoos and start playing your marching instruments. Drummers, you don’t need to play the kazoos, obviously, but we’ve given each of you one so you don’t feel unappreciated!”

I glanced at the Sousaphone players. “I suggest you have your Sousaphones already on, since it will be distracting if you have to squirm around to play in the middle of the song. Same goes for baritones and any other instrument that will take more than a second or so to get ready. The transition should be smooth and a surprise to the audience.”

I motioned to Megan to take her reserved seat. She quietly took her assigned seat, and a few of her neighbors smiled as they noticed her piccolo.

When I figured everybody was ready, I signaled to Chris.

The band started, but after only about four bars, there was so much laughing that they were unable to continue playing.

“Once again from the top,” Chris said patiently.

After a few false starts, we finally got the song working. During the second trio, Megan put down her kazoo and started playing the flute trills on the piccolo. This, of course, was what my mind had told me had been missing from the band’s performance. Over the muddled sounds of the kazoos, the piccolo sounded perfect.

After Megan’s feature performance, the band picked up their instruments and started playing for real. It wasn’t a smooth transition and they played a bit loud, but that was expected.

The fact was that with the full band including the full brass section and drums, Megan couldn’t really be heard for the third and final trio despite the high pitch of her instrument. I sighed and realized that I would have to put plan “B” into action.

After that performance, everybody was amazed. The band had thought it would sound silly, but it actually sounded great, although the transition needed some more work.

After a few minutes, Chris tapped on the podium and went for another run through. He saw me walk toward the back and simply started up the band on kazoos once more.

The music sounded a bit different from the back, and when the finale started up, I duplicated Megan’s performance on another piccolo from the back. A lot of drummers were a bit surprised to hear me playing, actually.

Chris nodded to me that the balance was much better this time, and the people around me glad-handed me at the end.

“The transition was better this time,” Chris announced. “Let’s do it a couple more times to see if we can get it perfect.”

When the rehearsal ended, I told the band members to remember to bring their uniforms for the talent show.

The audience for the talent show was packed. Ms. Kendall made a bit of a speech to the audience about how this would be a different talent show from previous years, and how a group of talented musicians banded together to get people who wouldn’t have thought about performing to come onstage.

There was other stuff that was said, but I wasn’t listening to Ms. Kendall. I was setting up the marching band for the first performance of the evening.

Everybody was in uniform, including Megan, who borrowed one of the extra uniforms that the band had. Because of the temperature, they played with their blue pants and yellow shirts and left off the jackets and those silly hats they wore which were called, for some strange reason, “shakers.”

After the band rehearsal earlier, Chris told me that Megan and I were dead-on together for our trills, which made me proud. I didn’t play flute very often, and had only started the piccolo after I got this crazy idea about the kazoos. Megan was a very talented player, and if I was perfectly in step with her, that was a big compliment to me.

Everybody was ready. Ms. Kendall announced that the first performance would be the marching band.

I would have given money to be where I could see Mr. Harris, but I was back-stage and behind the back curtain so I could perform without being seen.

I heard the footsteps of Chris Henderson walking onstage, and there was polite applause as he picked up the baton. The audience wasn’t prepared for the kazoos, since everybody was sitting in their seats with their instruments in plain sight—the kazoos were hidden on their music stands.

After a pause, I finally heard the intro to the Stars and Stripes Forever start up on kazoos. I could hear a bit of response from the audience, but mostly, I could just hear the humming of the kazoos with the drums accompanying.

Megan played her solo part perfectly, of course, and when the full band started up afterward, I was there playing along with her, albeit from behind the curtain.

When the song was complete, I heard thunderous applause from the audience. The song worked!

The band marched offstage to a single snare drum hitting every other beat to keep everybody in line. Most players picked up their chairs, but there were still some left, so I and a bunch of other people ran out to grab the chairs.

Some joker that was running the spotlight noticed that I was on the stage, and singled me out. There was an immediate reaction from the crowd as people started chanting, “OOGIE!”

I scowled up at where the lights originated, but I couldn’t see anything beyond their glare. I got offstage as fast as I could.

The fact remains that I didn’t have much to do with most of the acts, as there were many people who helped out, and singling me out like that wasn’t fair to everybody else who had a hand in this.

I watched the show from backstage, and was quite happy with the performances.

Ted Evans did a skit that he would follow by a musical number.

In the skit, Ted was dressed in a gray slacks and a gray shirt. There was a desk onstage with the sign “PAROLE HEARING” on it.

Ted looked at the warden. “So you see, Warden. I asked Betty Lou that, if she still wanted to see me, to just do me this one thing.”

“What would that be?” asked the warden.

“It’s silly, I know... but I asked her to tie a... a little yellow ribbon around that oak tree... you know, if she still wants to see me after I’ve been in prison here.”

The audience laughed at the reference.

“I see,” said the warden. “And if you see that ribbon, you’ll know she wants to see you. Right?”

“Right!”

The warden then asks, “But what if you don’t see that ribbon, Ted?”

“If I don’t see that ribbon?” Ted looked horrified. “I don’t know, Warden! I mean...” Ted grabbed a pencil box from the desk. “I don’t know what I’ll do...” Ted crushed the pencil box, and then started to jump all over it. “I think I would kill somebody if I didn’t see that ribbon...”

More laughter from the audience.

The warden nodded sagely, and picked up a big rubber stamp in his hand. He said, “PAROLE GRANTED!”

That was the cue for Amy to start playing the intro to Tie a Yellow Ribbon.

Ted got up from his chair and had his microphone with him.

I’m coming home, I’ve done my time,

Now I’ve got to know what is and isn’t mine!

Ted looked funny as he pranced around the stage singing that Tony Orlando song, and he ended it with a minor change in the words, drawing them out for effect:

Now the whole damned bus is laughing...

And I can’t believe I see...

NOT A GOD-DAMNED YELLOW RIBBON

‘Round that old... oak... tree!

Ted then picked up a toy tommy gun and with a rat-a-tat-tat, he sprayed the audience as the curtain closed on him.

That act was met with laughter and applause, and I don’t think I could have pulled off such a performance myself.

The duet between Roy and Amy came a little bit after that. Amy played the start Chopin’s Prelude in C Minor and then continued it into something more melodic as she turned it into Barry Manilow’s Could It Be Magic song.

Roy was in top form, and easily mimicked Manilow’s style of singing.

I peeked in the audience and saw my mother smiling at me. Apparently, she had located where I was standing to the side of the stage.

Chopin was one of my mother’s favorite classical composers, and I knew she would appreciate this. I wasn’t aware if she was familiar with Manilow’s rearrangement of the Chopin piece. If she wasn’t, she would be now.

After Roy and Amy, Doug Dooley and Beth followed the magic theme when they came onstage for a few magic tricks. Doug looked a bit nervous, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was in front of so many people, or the fact that he was with such a good looking cheerleader.

My own moment of truth came when Zaniac and I were scheduled to go onstage. Zaniac had a bald wig on, and was introduced as Don Rickles, and I knew right then that he would be doing Rickles’ insult-humor, and I’d be a target of it.

This didn’t bother me too much. I’ve been trying to have people see me as a normal person and not this great person that could do no wrong.

As expected, most of Zaniac’s jokes were about me.

They went along the lines of, “Hey, Oogie! I hear you play the trumpet!”

“Yes, Don,” I said.

“Does that make you the Oogie Woogie Bugle Boy?”

Laughter. I smiled at the slight joke.

The one that had the biggest effect took me by surprise.

“Hey, Oogie!” Zaniac called out. “I hear you recently purchased a boat!”

“Huh?” I asked, mystified. “I don’t have a boat.”

“That’s funny,” Zaniac said. “Your girlfriend told me you have a small dinghy!”

I think Zaniac skirted the line between good taste and bad taste with that line, and I saw Ms. Kendall get up from her chair.

Zaniac saw that, and said, “Just kidding, Oogie!”

At that point, Sherry and June started to come on stage. They were supposed to come on at a certain point, but now, neither one appeared happy.

“Oh, shit,” Zaniac said under his breath, seeing trouble brewing. Out loud and into the mike, he said, “Oogie, I wish I was as lucky as you are with the cheerleaders.”

“Well, Zaniac,” I said, breaking Zaniac’s character accidentally. “Maybe you should purchase a bigger boat!”

My ad-lib caught Zaniac by surprise, and he whooped and laughed, as did the audience. The curtain went down just as Sherry got to Zaniac.

“Calm down, Sherry!” I said. “He was just making a joke. I didn’t mind that.”

“That was unfair to you, Jim!”

“Hey, man! No harm intended. I think Jim got me back and good, though.”

Finally, Sherry relented as we all walked off stage. Ms. Kendall was waiting for us.

“Mr. Crittenhouse, did you have this planned? This is so unlike you!”

Surprisingly, Zaniac spoke up. “Ms. Kendall, Oogie had no idea what I was going to do other than my Don Rickles impression. I made up all the gags off the cuff and didn’t think before saying it. I heard that on the Dean Martin show on television, and I thought if it was good enough for T.V...”

Ms. Kendall looked between the two of us. “Well, the damage has been done. If there are any complaints, we’re going to have to do something.”

“Please, Ms. Kendall,” Zaniac begged. “Jim had no idea. If you have to punish anybody, punish me instead. Jim believed in my ideas, and I guess I let him down.”

I wasn’t worried about being punished. After all, if what Zaniac said was true, then there shouldn’t be a problem. If something was good enough to be broadcast into people’s homes at night, it should be all right to be done in school as well. I was a bit put off by the chorus teacher’s attitude.

I finally spoke up. “Ms. Kendall, Zaniac was also responsible for Ted Evans’ sketch, and about five other things that were great.”

“I hope we don’t get complaints, then.”

The chorus teacher left, making me feel down for the first time in a long time.

About the time the end of the show was happening, I was back in the music room.

Kristen found me there.

“What’s wrong, Jim?”

“Zaniac is probably going to get in trouble for that ‘small dinghy’ remark, I think.”

“Oh, that’s just silly! I heard that same joke on television!”

“Apparently, so did Zaniac.” I sighed. “Well, Ms. Kendall is angry. I don’t think she wanted Zaniac to have anything to do with the show, and this happens.”

“I’ve talked with her, and she’s no longer angry,” Kristen said. “She’s just worried that somebody will complain. By the way, we need you on stage.”

“Huh? What for?”

“The show is over, and the audience is calling your name!”

“But I’m not performing tonight!”

Kristen went into one of the practice rooms and surprised me when I saw she had the bass guitar that her mother used to play.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

“My mom—you know that!” Kristen answered.

“I mean, why is it here?”

“Mr. Proilet said that everybody wants you to play. He said you would stonewall everybody, so I suggested that maybe the House Band can do a number.”

“Which song?” I asked. ”Working Title?” Actually, it couldn’t be that song, since Kristen used a different bass guitar for that song.

“Nope. We’ll do the one you didn’t want to do at Merry’s last weekend.”

“Oh, great. I’m in trouble for the ‘bigger boat’ remark, and you want me to do that song!”

Kristen didn’t answer, but dragged me out of the room with her free hand.

In the auditorium, the audience was indeed chanting, “OOGIE! OOGIE!”

Mr. Proilet was on stage in front of the curtain, and announced, “He’s here, everybody.”

There was applause, and the teacher signaled me to come up where he was.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jim Crittenhouse, better known as ‘Oogie!’ He’s the guy responsible for putting most of this show together.”

More applause. I was a bit horrified—there were many people responsible for the show, not just me.

Mr. Proilet waited a few minutes for the applause to die down. “A few weeks ago, this young man came to me and said he had an idea for the talent show. His idea was to get the most talented people in the school to work with others to put on one of the best received shows we’ve ever had here at this high school.”

Applause again.

“He told me that he was afraid if he were to perform, then nobody else would want to follow him.”

The chants started up again. “OOGIE! OOGIE!”

“Well, his girlfriend and I came up with a solution to his problem. He’s going on last!”

More applause.

Mr. Proilet held the mike down and said, “Get back stage. You have your band and a few other people that will help you with what they came up with.”

“Others?”

Mr. Proilet showed me the slot where the curtain halves met and I went.

Sherry, June, and Lynette were there, as well as the House Band.

Lynette came over to me. “Jim, do you remember the favor I asked you last weekend at your sister’s birthday?”

I couldn’t remember any favors, really. “Not really, except you said you wanted to dance, and did this big ballroom dance thing with me. I just followed along. You were wonderful.”

“Good, you remember the moves. Sherry and June have agreed to be your dance partners for this tune.”

Sherry and June had long, black dresses on, apparently in costume.

“But I thought I was doing the Louis Prima number...”

“Right,” Lynette said, nodding. “Follow their lead.”

Lynette kissed me and moved off the stage.

Roy and Stacy were in the back of the stage with microphones. Kristen and Gerry had mikes as well as their guitars. The rhythm section seemed ready.

Mr. Proilet brought the microphone and stand from the front of the stage. “Break a leg, son!”

After Mr. Proilet left the stage, the curtain opened. Kristen looked at me for her cue, but I waved her off.

Instead, I took the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for the applause before. I don’t deserve it nearly as much as the people who actually performed here today. I know you don’t want to hear that.”

I indicated the band behind me. “This is our band, called the House Band. Hopefully, we’ll get a gig around here soon and you will be able see us perform our show. This is only our second public performance, and the first time we’ve ever done this particular number in public.”

Turning around, I could see the players looked ready. On my signal, Steve hit the drums and Kristen started playing the bass line for the intro of the song.

I took the mike from the stand and started to sing.

I’m just a gigolo,

And everywhere I go,

People know the part I’m playing.

Paid for every dance,

Selling each romance.

Ooh! What they’re saying!

As happens every time I perform, all anxiety left me, and I got into the number. I sang the second verse:

There will come a day,

And youth will pass away.

What will they say about me?

When the end comes, I know

They’ll say “Just a gigolo...”

Life goes on without me!

At this point in the song, Sherry came out and danced toward me. She held my hands and we danced. My left hand with the microphone was sufficiently close to my face as I sang a repeat of those two verses. It was just like dancing with Lynette the weekend before... Sherry led and I followed, although I was singing at the same time.

At the tempo change, Kristen, Roy, Stacy, and I sang:

I ain’t got nobody!

Oh and there’s nobody cares for me,

There’s nobody cares for me.

I’m so sad and lonely!

Sad and lonely, sad and lonely!

Won’t some sweet mama

Come and take a chance with me?

‘Cause I ain’t so bad!

It was the rhythm section’s time to accompany me, and I continued, adding my best impression of Louis Prima’s scat singing at the end:

And I’ll sing out!

Sweet love songs,

All of the time.

She will only be, only be...

Bobsy bohbsy bop... billy bop!

June came from the other side of the stage and started dancing with me as the duet between Frank and Grip happened. She did a pirouette under my arm, as I did the second scat section, followed by the run down to the finale.

Roy and Stacy came forward for the finale as well and they and the entire band yelled the repeats:

I ain’t got nobody baby!

And there’s nobody, (nobody!)

There’s nobody (nobody!)

There’s nobody (nobody!)

There’s nobody (nobody!)

There ain’t no one, (there’s no one!)

There’s no one (no one!)

Nooda nooda! (Nooda nooda!)

Nully nully! (Nully nully!)

Girlie girlie! (Girlie girlie!)

Stop saying the words!! (Stop saying the words!!)

Never mind! (Never mind!)

Nobody! (Nobody!)

No, no one! (No, no one!)

I was a bit surprised at this point, as the voices repeating were getting louder and louder. Behind me, all of the performers from the previous acts were herding on the stage, simply repeating what I was singing! I continued to ham it up.

No one! (No one!)

Nobody! (Nobody!)

Nobody! (Nobody!)

No-bo-dy!

Nobody! (Nobody!)

Nobody cares for me!

The song ended with Frank and Grip holding their notes and Steve finishing on cymbals.

Without any cue, Steve hit up a reprise of the introduction of the song, and Kristen immediately started the walking bass bit, vamping.

I motioned to the music teachers, who came onstage with me. I turned to the audience and said, “These are the people you need to thank. They work day in and day out in the music department. Everything that was done here was due to their help and encouragement. Let’s give them a big round of applause!”

I smiled, having turned the applause that our song generated into applause for the music department, and Kristen and Steve continued vamping the intro until the curtain finally closed.

Mr. Harris approached me as I was walking off stage. “Jim, where you get those piccolos? I only saw one on stage, but I know there was another one. I could hear it.”

“Megan had her own and Mr. Proilet let me borrow one.”

Mr. Proilet nodded in agreement with me.

“I didn’t know we had pics!” Roger said. ”Stars and Stripes will sound much better with them!” He gave my hand a thorough shaking.

I smiled, grateful that Mr. Harris didn’t take offense.

In the lobby of the school, a few of the cheerleaders were at a table selling lemonade and home made brownies. In addition, they were selling Kristen’s overstock of blue and gold kazoos for a dollar each (Kristen paid less than a quarter each). The kazoos went quite fast! I had a good feeling inside—this money was going to help the music department, and if it hadn’t been for Kristen and her father’s generous donations, we wouldn’t have had such a large music program as we did.

Kristen’s parents met me, and Daniel introduced me to a gentleman named Sonny Kravitz.

“Sonny runs Puppy Dawg’s.”

Oh, shit! I had specifically asked Mr. Swift not to intervene on our behalf! I wanted to get this gig on our own merit. Would I always be beholden to Kristen’s money?

Sonny seemed to notice my look of horror. “Please, son, don’t worry. I was talking with Danny a few days ago and told him about the auditions. Specifically, I told him that I heard that Kristen was in one of the bands. He knew, and then I told him that I prefer to see promising bands in action doing gigs rather than auditioning. That way, you can get a feeling of how the band interacts with its audience. Daniel said you guys had a gig last weekend, but I couldn’t make it. I didn’t think I’d make it tonight, but I’m glad that I did.”

A familiar voice called out, “Sonny!”

“Jean!” Sonny yelled back at my music teacher. “I saw you on the stage! I’m surprised they still have you teaching in this town!”

Mr. Proilet knew the owner of Puppy Dawg’s? This was news to me. He never mentioned that to me before.

Sonny turned back to me. “I’m sorry... your name is Jim, right? Or do you prefer ‘Oogie?’”

“Um, Jim is fine,” I said. My head was spinning.

“Jim, I’m glad I saw you perform today,” Sonny said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow as well. Let me tell you something important, kid: Just because Danny or perhaps Jean says you’re great, that doesn’t mean that I will hire you. If I hired every Tom, Dick, and Harry that was recommended to me, I’d have nobody coming to the club. My club is where I make my money, and if the acts aren’t popular, I don’t get paid. If I don’t get paid, I am not happy. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I felt a lot better.

As I walked away, I heard Sonny say, “That kid not only has talent, but I think he has what it takes to go far.”

For our audition at Puppy Dawg’s, we had to play three songs. Our original plan was to do Working Title, a Blood Sweat and Tears number, and end with Gigolo. However, Sonny already heard us play the Louis Prima number, and although it was a good end-piece for a set, I wanted to do something different.

“How about Make Me Smile?” Grip suggested. “We cooked on that song at the Legion Hall.”

“Everybody around here does Chicago,” I said. I wanted to have a song that showed the group in its best light, but also a bit different from other groups. At the same time, I knew that as a group, I could no longer just figure that a quick Elton John tune would work, since there was more than just me playing piano to consider.

Kristen raised her hand. “How about Summer Wind? We played that last week, and it sounded good.”

I nodded. That was a song that both Roy and Kristen liked to sing lead on.

“If we’re doing Sinatra,” Roy said, “could we do Fly Me To The Moon instead?”

Grip said, ”Moon would be a better arrangement for us, actually.”

I thought about that, and had to agree with Grip. “OK. Roy flies us to the moon. Then he’ll do And When I Die, and Kris and I will sing lead on Working Title. What order?”

Gerry offered, “Let’s do it in the order you just said. Working Title will be last, since we can really cook on that, and it will be a great way to end the set. We’ll start slow with Roy and work our way toward Working Title.”

Everybody like Gerry’s suggestion, and our song list was set.

We spent the entire morning perfecting our set.

At Puppy Dawg’s, we were surprised to see that we were the only group around.

“There are only three groups auditioning today,” Sonny explained. “You’re the third. The other groups came in earlier.”

We all set up our equipment, and Scott went to the sound booth, where he had worked when Gerry had his group, the Yokels.

Lynette had most of our equipment set up, and everybody was onstage getting ready. Scott had us do a few sound checks to get the levels correct.

“Ready?” I asked.

Roy nodded. His songs were the first two.

With my trumpet in hand, I signaled Steve and Kristen to start.

Fly me to the moon,

Let me sing among those stars!

Let me see what spring is like

On Jupiter and Mars!

We played this song as an homage to Frank Sinatra. We didn’t have a full big band to accompany the song, but we had a pretty good arrangement. I was able to double with Frank to get more on the trumpet. Kristen used her mother’s bass guitar to get the walking bass line for the song. Amy played the electric piano as a nice accompaniment to Roy’s soulful voice.

For our next song, I started out with a harmonica solo. Kristen had the bass guitar she seemed to favor for rock and roll and Amy duplicated Kristen’s bass line for the first part. I quickly switched to trumpet again as Roy sang:

I’m not scared of dying,

And I don’t really care.

If it’s peace you find in dying,

Well then let the time be near.

Kristen and I worked a lot with Amy to get the piano part right. During her solo, she really sounded like a honky-tonk piano player.

For our third and final number, we did Working Title. Unlike the first two songs, which were our renditions of other people’s tunes, Working Title was our own number, and there was an additional enthusiasm when we played this song. For instance, the rhythm section was just a little more polished on this song. I think this was due to the pride that all of us had in this song, since we all worked together to create it.

From the “Dum dum dum da-da dum dum” beats of the intro to Kristen and I alternating verses (we decided during rehearsals that the song was more effective if Kristen sang her first verse followed by me singing my first verse, and so on), to the featured performance by the rhythm section, to everybody helping out on the refrain, this song was a real hot number.

At the end of our performance, Sonny Kravitz smiled at me. “You guys are truly great!” he said enthusiastically. “I can also tell you that you guys have the gig. Do you guys have representation?”

Kristen took over, all business. “Sonny, if there’s anything for us to sign, give the papers to me. We’re looking for a manager right now, but my holding company has legal representation that we can use.”

There was more dickering between Kristen and Sonny, but I spent my time helping Lynette and the members of the band put our instruments away.

Gerry was incredulous and told us. It took about a couple dozen attempts before his previous group, The Yokels, got their break. Even great bands rarely get a break so early in their careers.

We all celebrated at Emilio’s afterward at Kristen’s expense. Everybody was still feeling the adrenaline rush from the audition and was in a party mood. The older members of the group drank wine and beer, and the rest of us had soft drinks.

As I sat there among the jubilation, I found I was quite happy with how things turned out, but I was also introspective. The guitar player didn’t need to tell me that we were the exception and not the rule in the field we were pursuing. I already knew that. Talent and hard work are indispensable for success in the music field. However, one also needed quite a lot of luck.

I knew that I was indeed a lucky stiff... but I wasn’t so full of myself that I didn’t realize that I still had a lot of growing up to do. I just wished that I’d be able to do what I was doing right now for the rest of my life: being with Kristen, having good friends, and playing music were everything I wanted to do until the day I die.