Lock’n (Lockin’? Lo’k’nn? Peter Shapiro’s Good-Time Fun-Job Sponsored by Visa?) was scheduled to start tonight with a performance from Billy and the Kids, but got cancelled due to the weather.
Yesterday afternoon, Benjy woke Billy up from his nap.
“Billy. Bad news.”
“Bobby finally had my book read to him?”
“No. And: our book.”
“Sure, Benj. What’s the matter?”
“Huge storms. Thursday night shows have been cancelled.”
Billy sat up in bed; he was wearing a ratty shirt from one of his previous bar bands, and he stretched out his arms and his shoulders and his skinny legs.
“Benjy: I’m Billy fucking Kreutzmann and I punch dick and play drums.”
“And now I have punched today’s dick.”
“Oh, God, why?”
“Show goes on. When you stop puking, make a call or two.”
And in less than 24 hours, the show got booked, tickets got sold, and the gear got set.
The show goes on; we’ll do it right here; there’s gotta be an outlet somewhere.