Five Shy Guys -- A tale told of idiots

So this guy comes up to me at the desk today asking for a reference guide to songwriting and publishing. No problem there; I took him to the appropriate volumes and he seemed pleased. But then it hit me. It hit me like I was some French dude in silk pyjamas staring at a gooey cupcake. The memories came rushing back in a fetid, stinking deluge...

The year was 1986. I was 19. I was a freshman at University. And I was in a band.

Now this was no ordinary band. This was a rag-tag conglomerate of clowns and boozebags who just happened to take up residence in the same 1200-person dormitory. But, to this day, this jokey band still holds the single-evening attendance and bar sales record at a local booze can downtown. The name of the band was Five Shy Guys--and there were seven of us.

Member #1. The Giggler.

Yes, a young Giggles was the lead singer and harmonica honker of Five Shy Guys. And, in this particular year of 1986, was fresh off completing his first two original song compositions. The first was called, 'Six Cheeks'--inspired by three young lasses preceeding him down the street. I can only provide a snippet here, as decency and dignity forbid a full disclosure:

"Six cheeks
Bouncing up and down
Six cheeks
Vertical smiles, not frowns,
Six cheeks
Strollin down the avenue.
Six cheeks
Dressed in Levis
Six cheeks,
But only three red eyes..."

You get the picture. I can only add that there is a gentle refrain of, "I just got out of prison" in there too. Yes, the young giggler was a moron, and certainly no Woody Guthrie. And, indeed, his second original song, 'Frank', was no better:

"Frank was sitting in the shrubbery,
I was also in the shrubbery,
We engaged in butt-chubbery..."

Again, not too good. Although the chorus:

"The north end of his whang
Found the south end of my crack"

still holds some semblance of charm, if not merit. Yes, gentle reader, Giggles was a fool.

Member #2 -- Big D.

Now, unlike Dr. Giggles, who was a talentless rube, Big D. had already taught himself guitar, bass and drums at this point in his young life. And, here at the dorm, he and Giggles had become buds, fueled in no small part by the music of REM, the suds of Black Label, and the mutual hatred of pretty much everyone else in the building. This crummy band was their idea. Now Big D. was always the go-to-guy for a good cassette to put on if you were 'entertaining' a young co-ed. My favorite, hands down, was the tape he once used while, during, and after seducing a young lass. Side A: Best of the Ventures. Side B: Best of Iron Maiden. And, he informed me, he actually got up in medias res to flip sides. Wicked. He was also a master prankster: the king of the 'Shave Bomb', the 'Piss Leaner' and the 'dump a bucket of water over the guy pinching in the stall gag'. [And I, once a hapless victim...] He also ran for president of the dorm under the code name of 'Shekel'--and one of his campaign posters featured his nutty head next to the Giggler's bared buttocks with the slogan, 'Shekel: A little bit tongue in cheek'. Genius, pure genius. In the band, he played bass mostly, but also did some drumming and some guitar licking.

Member#3 -- Swoop.

What can I say about Swoop? This guy was the classic 1980s suave, guitar-playing, new-wave poser. He had a suede jacket, long sweeping bangs, and the worst ass-gas of any human being I have ever met. I mean it was if the guy lived on onions, sauerkraut and boiled eggs, and then swallowed it down with Guinness and Squeez-Meez. Jeebus. Yet he is perhaps best known for the eponymous pizza slice that still makes an appearance with every delivery to this day. [Please see Tearaways thread below] You see, Swoop would inevitably leave the room every time the pizza delivery guy rang the dorm buzzer to run and get a Coke. All this did was leave the Giggler and Big D. free to snag all the big slices, cut the remaining slices in half, eat them and leave the skinny little 'Paul's pieces' for Swoop. [Editor's note: Please disregard the use of his real name] He would then enter to exclaim, 'Aw, c'mon, guys.' But the next time, same ol' routine. Loopy. He also had a friend called Sloth, who would shamble his ample ass into our room occasionally and steal beer and annoy the living crap out of us. He was the type of guy who would take a beer from our fridge five minutes before an all-you-can-drink party, slug a bottle of cheap white wine from a beer-bong, and splatter puke all over the hallway, blaming his pyloric sphincter for failing to open. Anyway, Swoop played lead guitar, and Sloth was our Roadie.

Member #4 -- Bongo

Now Bongo was a talented drummer and an excellent singer. Truth be told, he probably should have been the lead singer and Giggles merely the hapless, drunken roadie. But Bongo was also an arrogant, effeminate little jagoff with a set of goofy, fake dreads and a love for Cat Stevens and reggae songs every dumbass white guy knew. At our first show, he actually asked if the drums could be placed center-stage, while the rest of us stood behind him, obscured by his beauty and transplendence. [And I use that word incorrectly]. Fortunately, the soundman just looked at him and asked Big D., 'Who is this little tit?' Sweet. Bongo played drums and sang a couple of tunes.

Member #5 -- The Wildman

The wildman was a guy who lived on Big D.'s floor in the dorm, and desperately wanted to be in the band. So much so that he consistently allowed himself to be photographed with a pair of male genitalia dangling precariously above his head. In each snapshot, despite the presence of Big Steve and the Twins, the Wildman just grinned widely and proudly. [I have the proof if you would like to send away for a copy. Two bucks.] Anyway, the Wildman asked if our band needed a bongo player. Since we played REM, the Byrds, Echo & the Bunnymen, Hoodoo Gurus, and Beatles tunes, of course we said, 'Yes, of course, we must have bongos.' And bongos we got. But we got more, much more...

Member #6 -- Germanica

Now begins the true idiocy of this band. You see, Big D. had a thing for Germanica. However, since he was to much of a chicken to talk to her, he had an intermediary ask if she would like to play tambourine and sing back-ups in our band. She, not willing to give up this chance of a lifetime, agreed with only mild trepidation. Her skills were few: she was tone deaf, could not dance, and always hit the tambourine on the off beat. But, hell, she looked great. Did Germanica ever get from stage to Big D.'s workbench? Another story, perhaps.

Member #7 -- Brussel Sprout

Much like Germanica, the Brussel Sprout was a beautiful young co-ed. However, it was the Giggler this time who fancied this lass. Given that he, too, was afraid to talk to the girl, an emissary was sent to ask if she would like to join the band. She was more than happy to comply. However, just like Germanica, she was tone deaf, could not dance, and hit the tambourine on the off beat every time. These girls were so spazztic, in fact, that we had the soundman turn off all their mics when we played live. No matter, they sang, danced, and beat on without knowing or caring.

Together, these folks made up what could have been the worst cover-band ever to overfill a bar so badly that the entire three front rows ended the night with slashed hands and chests from all the broken glass and bottles, and to sell so much beer and hooch that three bartenders quit before the night ended. But, even to this day [it happened last year in Boston, in fact] I am approached once in a while by someone saying, 'Excuse me, but weren't you in Five Shy Guys? You were the best band EVER.' Seriously. Now that is what I call an extended hangover...