Following the plane wreck and the dissolution of the Furious MacDads, Grandcracker Vance went on to have a brief solo career playing guitar in the bar of a Lexington, KY bowling alley under the name "Little Beaver." The name was a reflection of what Vance was getting at the time ("And very little, too," he adds.) The Average White Band -- which at the time were a two-piece Country and Western band -- had stopped in one night to roll a few frames, and caught this lily-white, wiry funkmeister's act. After shouting out what sort of music the boy should play for most of the evening,they were prompted to write their most famous song, "Cut the Cake."
As with most of our careers, this one fell apart when it was discovered that Vance, far from being a white-boy funk-guitar prodigy, was in fact a 34 year-old black man whose name actually was Little Beaver (It's a dental thing. You wouldn't understand.) Apparently this fellow had been wearing a rubber "Vance" mask.
Said Beaver upon his arrest "I would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn't have been for you meddling kids!"
Rick , you have to ask Vance if he does not read this comment to tell the story of us all on a ride to El Paseo Tx, and the way home was stormy and raining and we broke down and no one but ol Petey saw us and stayed with us as we sat in a huge MUD mountain waiting for help, the others could not see we were down as the rain was so hard, I can't even remember how long we stayed there and dripped mud and muck... it was a site to behold, and a memory I now laugh at but then it was well should of come up with a great adjective here but so far nothing..!!!! A must tell story, think we went down there and got tattos... who knows..
ReplyDeleteAs are all legendary road trips--more fun in retrospect.
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like a good one -- especially since NM is one of those places that bikers love because there are so many riding days each year. We NEVER get rained out!
I'll be sure to ask him about it.
We went to El Paso for a 5th Chapter meeting and on the way there my bike was acting up with shit in the gas. We pulled over in a parking lot and I was trying to 'shake' the crap out as the bike was getting gas and then shutting down. With Bridget on the back and half way though a turn the throttle went wide open and I damn near lost her off the back of the bike. Then, rolling down the 5 mile hill into El Paso the group of about 10 bikes came to a stop light. My bike had three disc brakes that were soaking wet and when I grabbed brakes, nothing happened. With both boots digging into the pavement, we split the 2 lines of bikes and came to a halt at the front of the line just before going into traffic. On the way back, my gas tank mounts broke and the tank sheared the coil wires and we were stone dead on the highway in a blinding rainstorm. While we waited for Dave to go to Albuquerque to get his truck, Pete, Bridget and myself stood for hours in the pouring rain. We used a sleeping bag as a cover but there was one problem. I was in the middle and Pete and Bridg was on the other side of me. I was acting as a tent pole in the middle and the bag soon weighed about 30 pounds and my boots were full of water. Dave shows up and brought his wife. Now we have 5 people to get in the cab of a truck with 2 bikes in the back. I was never so glad to get home, and that's the truth.
ReplyDeleteOK. So maybe that's one of those trips that's not that easy to laugh at later.
ReplyDeleteWell, I can -- don't know about the participants