Dave had crazy-ass, curly hair and ended up tearing off his tee when he was playing ’cause he was sweating so bad. Short. Burly. Hairy.

Preacher had that long, layered look and a beard. John Bonham, Bob Seger, you know, staying true to the seventies because they were cool, and he hated the eighties shit that was happening, because it was not cool.

When we played, he wore a button-down with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows.

Or a short-sleeved Henley with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders.

Or tight tees that made his chest look like a wall.

Timmy looked like a clean-cut surfer. A month rolled ’round, Tim didn’t miss hitting a barber no matter where we were so he could get a cleanup. Always wore concert tees for other people’s bands. Kiss. Van Halen. Drove Tom insane that Timmy was advertising other bands while playing in ours.

[Laughs]

Preacher was my spirit animal.

[Laughs again]

So, I had the thick, seventies mustache and long hair and scoured vintage shops for cool T-shirts like he sometimes wore, but I switched ’em up, wearing a vest over them and lots of necklaces.

[Laughs again]

Also started doing his Rocky workouts, pushups, pull ups, sit ups with something heavy on my chest.

Smoke a cigarette and then go on a five-mile run.

[More laughter]

Play bass in a rock band, get chicks.

Play bass in a rock band and have a good body.

Get more chicks.

What can I say?

I was nineteen, man.

[More laughter]

Josh rounded shit up, feathered hair on top, long on the bottom, not a mullet, but cut the sides, and there you have it. Wore a rolled bandana around his forehead even when he wasn’t playing, which was douchy, even then. Always in a shirt with the sleeves cut off and unbuttoned down the front to wherever.

At first, I thought it was just that we’d gone through a lot together, on the road, and before, with Nicky and Ricky and Penny and my dad dying.

I thought this was why Josh didn’t fit in.

In the end, it came clear Josh didn’t fit in because he was an asshole.

Josh came on board, we’d hit a town, and Tom would find us rehearsal space.

It might have no heat, but it’d have electricity.

And he was a drill sergeant about that shit, sister.

Even Preacher would bitch about it.

We were getting more gigs, thanks to Tom, for sure. Always Friday and Saturday nights. Bars’d get bands in for live music nights to pull people in during the week, we got a lot of those too.

If you don’t do it, you think it’s easy, standing up there, three, four hours a night, playing sets.

But it’s work. It’s physical.