We had our own alternative Thanksgiving. We invited all our friends who didn't have anyplace else to go for Thanksgiving. Sandy Goodman laughingly labeled our alternative holiday 'Misfitzma', but I think our ragged, diverse group of artists and outcasts had a more thankful celebration of each other and what we had than most people attending forced-family-reunions across the country. It was kind of a stone-soup affair. Colin and I supplied the basics. A few modest staples and a place to converge, but everyone brought something they were especially eager to share with others. Priya, it turned out, is a very talented cook. She told me growing up she would sneak off and hang with the help, her family had a ridiculous number of servants. Once they got over the awkwardness of 'the golden child' hanging around asking all sorts of questions, and sensing a sincere desire to learn, not just to snoop and tattle to parents, the housekeeping and cooking staff formed a warm bond with this curious, precocious child. They eagerly shared their cooking secrets and told countless funny stories that each constituted a life lesson disguised as a cooking lesson. Priya never forgot any of that and quickly showed Sandy her skill as a chef. He was surprisingly resistant to changing his unhealthy bachelor eating habits, but eventually her persistence and her amazing cooking prevailed. He became noticeably healthier looking rather quickly, and seemed to have a lot more energy and enthusiasm for things. I'm sure I'm not the only one who complimented Priya on the positive changes on her ersatz boss and virtual ward. Well, now Priya was pulling out all the stops for our 'Misfitza' celebration. And she certainly wasn't the only one.

Some musician friends of Colin's brought over some home-made beer and wine. I was wary of it, but others declared it surprisingly good. I watched the others enjoy themselves, but stayed away from the beer, wine, and other 'recreationals' guests brought and shared.

At our meal, Sandy – who was feeling no pain – raised his glass.

“A toast. To this land of misfits and rejects.... the folks from everywhere to whom anywhere was better than where they were from.”

The table murmured its impaired approval.

“And to those who were already here, who gave us ….who let us take so much.”

The crowd raised their glasses again. Less enthusiastically. I felt the ambivalence of the room.

“Hear Hear!” I toasted loudly. After my encounter with Lorraine, my earlier encounter with N'Papwe came into focus. I carried the blood of the first people in my veins. I couldn't speak for anyone but myself, yet I saw the stumbling, often tragic, but ultimately tenacious and resilient progress of the values of the first peoples. It was often horrific and frustratingly sporadic, but the core values were being discovered and embraced by the newcomers, the interlopers, the 'conquerors'. The interaction with the wisdom of the natives altered their course and redirected their dogma.

Colin was playing with a band called “Shotgun Surprise” - they thought of themselves as a fusion of the Eagles and Emerson Lake & Palmer. Colin laughed that they were “Art Folk”, and conceded that he took the job because it was a paying gig and the band members were all old friends.... even if the band did fight like cats & dogs over the direction of the group... so they never had any real direction.... band members changed more frequently than the kids behind the counter at the local Jack in the Box, still, because of the talent involved, the band got some local notoriety and even got a record pressed on a local label.

That was really Colin's doing. Doug Cohn, the guy who slipped him the business card at Aurora's Halloween party was an advertising guy with bigger aspirations. After bringing Colin in to do jingles for a local Datsun dealer and an Amana Radar Range jingle that almost went national. Doug yearned to be the next Dick Clark or Phil Spector.... he wanted to be the “...Presents” guy behind the next big thing... so when, in casual conversation before a jingle session, Colin mentioned that he was playing around town with Shotgun Surprise and mentioned the musical pedigree of some of the other band members, Doug was eager to meet with the band and see if they wanted to cut an album.

It was recorded in a weekend in Doug's Pasadena garage studio, and Doug was pushing the hell out of it by the middle of the next week, pressuring all his advertising contacts at local radio stations to hook him up with their program and music directors and dropping off test pressings for review to local publications as he came by to place his weekly ad buys. Doug Cohn was no Dick Clark or Phil Spector, but he didn't know that yet... and Shotgun Surprise was barely even a band.... just a bunch of old musicians who got together between gigs and couldn't even agree on what kind of music they played.

Still, Doug had a few takers. A local underground FM station started playing some tracks from the album and set up a live interview with the band on their late night show “Last Call with Toby Reece” bands would often wander by after gigs and hang out with Toby until sunrise. It was very unstructured, which totally suited Shotgun Surprise, since the band themselves had no apparent structure.

Colin invited me to tag along after I finished at the lightbox. I had never seen a radio station from the inside before, and the band were all a fun bunch and we got along, so I said “sure.”

We got to the station a little after 1AM and were met at the back door by Toby Reece, who seemed really, really stoned. We chatted by the door for a while until I couldn't take it any more.

“Who's on the air?” I asked with more than a bit of concern, since Toby seemed in no rush to bring us inside or go himself.

“Nixon.” he grinned. “Malcolm X …..and John Cage.” he turned up a house monitor and a surreal montage of political speeches mixed with experimental music filled the hall.

Colin grinned to the band who all smiled back.

“Did you make that?” Lewis the drummer asked.

Reece shook his head. “Some dude slipped me the cassette at a party. Said it would blow my mind.”

“Well, your mind looks fully blown.” I smiled. The band laughed.

Reece just nodded seriously. “Totally blown.”

Colin turned back to the band, then to the DJ. “So where do we do this interview?”

Suddenly Toby Reece seemed to notice we were still standing in the reception area. “Oh. In the studio....” and he started walking.

We followed him, presuming that was his expectation. We wandered through some halls into the heart of the building and a maze of twists and turns eventually led us to a dimly lit dingy room with record racks for walls and a wraparound desk in the middle with a nasty old office chair in the center flanked by turntables and lots of stacked pieces of equipment. There were microphones on stands like luxo lamps or maybe dentists drills facing the outside of the U shaped desk. Reece motioned us to wheel in some chairs from the outside offices. The band introduced themselves but I don't think Reece actually caught who was who. He seemed to have listened to the album and to know the songs ….as much as he was aware of anything.... he was really really baked.

The band sat down around the mics and I wasn't sure where to stand to get out of the way. Reece motioned for me to come around and stand behind him near the wall of records. From his side of things it looked like one of those NASA mission control stations you saw on TV. He motioned to us, which made us all stop what we were doing and pay attention. I saw him grab his headphones and with his other hands turn down one knob. He then threw a switch and turned up another knob.... I heard the squeal from the Koss headphones tightly sealed around his head and he backed off the knob a bit. I noticed the absolute silence in the room and the dim red glow of a few bulbs that were now lit around and casting light through the glass outside the room.

“Some serious food for your head from the movers and shakers.... the best and brightest... the finest minds of our generation.... as they keep telling us.... voices of the man... voices of the people.... take it in... let it set... set deep.... so deep....”

I wasn't sure whether he was talking to the audience or himself ...or anyone. There was a LONG silence. I could see the needles on his mixer stir every time one of the band members stirred and their office chair creaked. Across the counter the band looked at Toby Reece expectantly. Then their eyes all lifted to me. I could only see his back, but all I sensed was deep breathing. I reluctantly touched his shoulder and felt his slight jump. He leaned back into the mic as his head scanned the band members facing him.

“We have some special guests tonight. They've been making some noise around town for a while now....”

The band shared disapproving glances with each other.

“...but before we rap.... let's hear a track from their debut album....”

He then turned to me expectantly. I just shot him a blank – if panicked – look. What the hell did he want? Finally he motioned to a stack of albums leaning against the record racks on the wall. I scrambled over & tore through them until I found the Shotgun Surprise LP. I pulled it from its sleeve & handed it to him along with the jacket. He placed it on a turntable and scanned the jacket.

“Lets hear ….this....” and he seemed to randomly drop the needle on the disc on the turntable.

It was 'Brother of the Bride' a not-too-subtle uptempo parody ballad about ….incest. The band cut it as a joke. The whole album had an air of subversive parody to it, but this was probably the least radio-friendly song on the album. Toby Reece didn't seem to notice or care. He just seemed to notice it was the widest band on the LP and picked it. The band shot uncertain looks at each other, which eventually morphed into mischievous grins.

“How long is this track?” Toby asked no one in particular.

The band looked at each other and finally Glen spoke up. “About 7 minutes. Almost 8.”

Toby nodded and rose. He silently walked out of the room fishing into his pocket. Before he turned the corner, I thought I saw him pull out a pipe cobbled from what appeared to be plumbing fixtures.

“Well that was interesting.” Colin laughed.

The other guys laughed nervously.

“Has anybody ever listened to this dude's show?” Alan the keyboard player asked as he darted his eyes from bandmate to bandmate. Most shrugged.

Lewis the drummer said “Yeah. A few times. ….well it was really on in the background.... he's OK. A little spacey.... but hey, it is late overnight.... I mean who the hell isn't?” The band all laughed and nodded. “But yeah.... he's ok. Sometimes he gets really.... arty.... reading poetry over sounds of heartbeats & whales.... stuff like that.... but I've never heard him be a dick to anyone. Even some folks who dropped in who really deserved it. So... yeah.... he's cool.”

That calmed everyone, so we settled in, listening to the track the band had heard SO many times during the recording and mastering sessions, and trying to imagine it blasting through car radios and stereos across the L.A. Basin as they grinned at each other.

After six minutes or so, the guys started to get restless. They sent me off to look for Toby. I got lost wandering through the hallways trying to find the outside door, since I presumed he stepped outside to smoke a cigarette ….or something else. Instead, after wandering through the office labyrinth I found myself back at the studio. I just gave the band a sullen shrug. They were not happy, but they knew I tried.

Just then we heard the 'click click click' of the needle hitting the label.

The track was done.

The guys all looked at me expectantly.

When did it become MY job to fix this mess? Sigh. …...boys.....

I looked around and saw no sign of Toby. Meanwhile the 'clicking' had been going on for about 30 seconds. I saw the meters on the mixer jump with every click.

Against every instinct I had, yet unable to come up with a better plan, I reached for the switch I saw Toby use before and pushed the button, which suddenly bathed the room in a soft red glow. I twisted the knob up to where he put it and leaned in to the mic.

“So.... that was 'Brother of the Bride' from Shotgun Surprise.... off their debut album on GCM records & tapes..... we're especially lucky to have members of the band ….hell... the whole band.... here with us tonight.” I scanned the mixer while talking and saw knobs labeled “Guest1” “Guest2” etc in Dymo labelmaker.... I quickly turned them all on and cranked up the knobs.

“Hey guys. Thanks for coming by.”

They all murmured polite replies, which I heard in an awesome stereo spread in my headphones, so I presumed everything was working.
“So..... Which one of you wrote 'Brother of the Bride? ….and is it about what I think it's about? I know they always say write what you know … so.... does anybody want to ….confess anything?” I grinned.

The group all shifted nervously, coughing self-consciously and murmuring – which actually sounded great in my headphones in that crazy stereo, until Glen spoke up.

“Uh. It was intended as ….satire....”

“You're making fun of incest?” I arched a brow and suppressed my grin.

“Uh.... no..... NO!....” Colin sputtered. “It was just... it's just..... well.... uh.... you work within the possibilities.... the constraints.... uhhh.... not everyone has the ….options.... other people.... most.... people have.”

I was surprised at Colin jumping in to defend Glen's cliched parody. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don't ….JUDGE.” he muttered.

“It was a JOKE.” Glen interjected. “....just meant as a JOKE! ….don't conflate it....”

“Conflate?” I cut him off. “....what is this? NERN? This isn't educational radio.... you mean 'Blow Up' right?”

Glen blushed. “Yeah. Blow up. It was just a joke.”

“....interesting sense of humor....” I grinned

“....Maybe.... OK.... but still.... we didn't mean any....”

I cut him off “If this record gets BANNED because of that song. ...if record stores and PTAs and church groups start pulling copies from the bins and before you know it you can't find a Shotgun Surprise record anywhere......” I grinned.

It took the guys a moment to twig, but one by one I saw the smiles grow as they realized I just dared people to go out and snarf up a copy before they were all confiscated by the purveyors or propriety.

“Well, I guess they'd just have to listen to your radio station to hear it.” Colin gave me a wicked grin.

“I'm not so sure you're going to hear much of it here either. Is the album all about incest?”

“No! Of course not.” Alan quickly jumped in. “...there are songs about.....”

I raised my eyebrow and smiled. I knew what the other songs on the album were about.

“Um....”

“OK. Let's go through the track list. 'Still outside' ….about nature? Solitude?”

Glen leaned in to his mic and cackled “It's about moonshine.”

“And this one.... 'Ozark spree'....”

“It's about a family of bank robbers in the depression... inspired by Bonnie & Clyde, only we made them a dustbowl family and gave them kids.” Alan laughed.

“So the kids rob banks too?” I grinned.

“No! That would be ridiculous!” Glen protested.

“They just help Ma & Pa rob banks.” Lewis smirked.

“Wow. This album is full of inspiration. What's... Pious Piper?” I asked innocently.

“Um. It's about this traveling revival preacher who rolls into town and sets up his tent... the whole town comes out and he tells them they're worse than Sodom & Gomorrah and only he can rid the town of vice and temptation... so the townsfolk give him everything they have to be rid of temptation... and after a fevered all-night prayer revival, the townsfolk wake to find the tent & preacher gone” Glen explained

“….along with all the young girls in town!” Lewis laughed.

“I'm sensing a theme here.” I smiled.

The band laughed. “Why don't you play another track. How about varmint soup?” Glen asked.

I shook my head. “I think the incest song was enough for one night.” I laughed.

“It was a JOKE!” Glen protested.

“Still....” I snorted “...Thanks guys... now everytime I hear that word I'm going to think of moonshine.... ANYWAY....” I corrected “I think we've had enough bad influences for one night.” I said as I reached behind me to the album pile and grabbed one at random. I grinned as I saw it, pulled it from its jacket and tossed it on the turntable. Chatting as I put it on the platter and place the needle down.

“Shotgun Surprise will be playing until Sunday at Faro's on Sunset... look for their album at your local record store... before parents groups burn them all...” I laughed. “So after Sunday, where will you guys be next?”

They looked at each other and shrugged.

“School dances?” I smirked.

“Maybe homeschools” Colin Laughed.

“Bar Mitzvas? Quinceañeras? Elks Lodge dances? Weddings?” I laughed. “I'm sure Brother of the Bride would be a huge crowd pleaser!” The band all laughed.

“Catch them while you can at Faros on Sunset through Sunday. And grab their album before its banned.” I laughed. “Now lets get back to more socially responsible music.... from Ummaguma, here's Pink Floyd.” I grinned as I started the turntable and switched off all the microphones and the sounds of 'Careful with that Axe Eugene' bathed the studio.

The band all laughed.

“Oh my God Olive. You were amazing!” Lewis beamed.

“What the hell happened to Reece?” Glen scowled.

“No idea.” Colin shrugged. “He did seem a bit ...out there.... but still....”

“I think I might know....” I grinned as I reached back to his jacket, still draped over the back of my chair and felt the pocket. I heard the jingle and reached in, fishing out a clump of keys.

The band all looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“Seriously?” Glen laughed. “Oh hell.... he's probably still out there...”

“We should probably go get him.” Colin laughed.

“Does anyone remember the way?” Lewis laughed.

“You'd better drop breadcrumbs” I laughed. “This building is like a maze. I almost didn't find my way back!”

“Thank God you did!” Glen laughed. “You saved our interview!”

“I am gonna get in SO much trouble.” I muttered, figuring I'd be banned for life after that stunt. Then I quickly calmed realizing I would never be back here again. What could they do – arrest me? I didn't trespass.... we were invited in.... then again, I thought to myself, getting pinched for commandeering a radio station probably still wasn't as bad as public exhibition of pornography. I shivered imagining what would have happened if Priya hadn't helped Sandy Goodman get the charges thrown out.

I was snapped back to the present as Lewis said “no breadcrumbs, but I have a pocket full of pennies.”

“Why the hell would you...” Glen started to ask, laughing and shaking his head at his bandmate.

“I am NEVER getting another parking ticket!” Lewis proclaimed with heat.

Glen & Colin laughed at their band mate. I just rolled my eyes and turned back to the pile of records. Pink Floyd was down to the screaming part, so I knew I'd need something else soon.

“Go find Toby” I waved to the band. “I'll stall here until you bring him back. I think I'm getting the hang of this.” I smiled as I put a Leonard Cohen album on the other turntable.

The band ventured off and I was surprised to find that I could hear the Leonard Cohen album through a tiny speaker even though the volume knob was all the way down. That's when I noticed there was a little click notch below 'full zero' and when I turned it all the way down to there I could hear the record through the little speaker. 'Cool' I thought to myself. It made it much easier to set up the next track. I transitioned... rather gracefully I thought, to the Cohen song after Floyd ended. I waited impatiently for the guys to get back with AWOL Toby Reece.

Finally a face peered around the corner. It was Colin.

Alone.

“No sign of him. The guys looked all around while I held the door. They're all going to the bucket for drinks. I told them we'd catch up.” He smiled and held out his hand.

“Doesn't seem right just ….leaving... and abandoning the place.” I scowled.

“Not your problem. Not your job.” Colin shrugged.

“I know.... but still.... it just seems ….wrong....”

He shrugged again. “So what do you want to do?”

“SOMEONE will have to show up eventually, right? Maybe we just hold down the fort til then?”

Colin scowled.

“Meanwhile” I grinned “We have an amazing record collection and the world's bitchin'est stereo!”

Colin gave me a hard stare for an uncomfortably long time then broke into a grin and attacked the wall full of albums.

We were having a lot of fun and kind of got lost in our little game of 'top this'. I had one turntable and Colin had the other. We kept trying to one up each other and playing the most unexpected but surprisingly perfect match for the song the other chose. This went on for a few hours until this guy burst into the room.

“What the HELL is going on here?” He demanded.

Colin & I froze.

“Who the HELL are YOU?” He nearly shouted. His voice rang with authority but it seemed less angry than bewildered.

“Where the hell is Reece?” He spat before Colin & I could even answer his last question.

“I have NO idea” I said as Colin spoke on top of me.

“That's what we'd ALL like to know!” he muttered.

The guy looked around, regrouped and addressed us more calmly.

“OK. I guess my first quest....”

I raised a finger and switched the song ending on my turntable to the one on Colin's. I grinned when I heard his choice. The Beatles' 'Flying' from Magical Mystery Tour flowed from the ringing guitar note at the end of the song I chose and was ….just perfect... Colin & I shared a smile then turned back to the authoritative guy questioning us.

He caught our shared smile and nodded with a smile of his own. “Nice.” He grinned. Then got back to business.

We explained how the band came in for an interview, Toby Reece stepped out and never came back, then I held out his jacket and jangled the keys in the pocket. The guy and I shared a look. Nothing needed to be said.

“It just seemed …..wrong..... to walk away and leave the place empty.... so we figured we'd carry on as best we could until someone ….you, I guess.... showed up.” I sheepishly smiled.

He nodded. “Thanks for that. I knew something was up when I got in my car and heard the radio.”

“Sorry.” Colin said quietly. “We just wanted to keep something playing.... we didn't....”

“No.” The guy held up his hand with a slight grin. “It sounded good. ...Good.” His face did something. “That's how I knew something was up.” He smirked.

His posture changed. “So where do you work?” He asked. I wasn't sure whether he was talking to Colin or me.

“Like I said. I'm with the band. We came in for our interview.”

“And I'm a projectionist at the lightbox off Sunset ....and I waitress at Quays.” I volunteered.

“No... I mean....” Then his face flashed a mix of confusion and mild concern. “....neither of you are on the air anywhere?”

We looked at each other and shook our heads.

“Any radio in college?” he asked.

Colin and I again shook our heads, not volunteering that neither of us had even gone to college.

“So.... no background.”

We shook no.

“No station experience? No third phone?”

“We don't even have ONE phone” Colin laughed. “We have to use the neighbor's”

The guy shook his head. “No. I mean a third class radiotelephone license with broadcast endorsement.”

We stared at him blankly.

“Honest. We didn't know anything about needing a license.... we just....”

He waved dismissively. “No. Don't worry. No problem. ….well.... not your problem.... I'll handle it.” He went behind the equipment and pulled out a clipboard.... looked through it.... checked some instruments and hung it back up.

“Not your problem.” He repeated. “It's Reece's problem... and I'll deal with that when I see him.”

He looked at us and smiled. “I never even introduced myself. Gerry Burke. Program Manager.”

He extended a hand. Colin reflexively reached in and shook. I followed.

“Olive. Bracco.” I said and nodded to Colin “Colin Logue.”

“So you're Toby Recce's …..boss?”

He shook his head and smiled. There was something unsettling in that smile.

“Former boss is more like it.” he said quietly. I shivered.

“Look, you said your bandmates went out for drinks? Why don't you catch up with them? I'll take it from here.” he said as he settled behind the console.

We nodded and went to grab our coats.

“And thanks.” He shouted out as we headed for the door. “....for everything.” And he smiled broadly.

Colin and I figured they guys had already left the bucket. It was a little hole in the wall place that reminded Lewis the drummer of a club in a movie called 'bucket of blood'. Everyone thought it was hilarious and that became its new nickname.... which was quickly shortened from 'bucket of blood' to just 'the bucket'. The place stayed open late, but Colin and I decided even if they were still there, we just wanted to go home.

“Well that night didn't go as planned.” Colin laughed as we snuggled against the cold, meandering home in the early morning hours.

“Still... it was fun wasn't it?” I buried into him.

“More than should be allowed....” He grinned. “At least without a license!”

I laughed. “Oh yeah. That guy said we needed one.”

“oh, man.... a FUN license.... Nixon would just love that!” Colin laughed.

“sssshhh!” I teased. “His spies are everywhere.... don't give them any ideas!”

Colin pulled me closer and we walked in silence through the near deserted streets home.

We both slept in late and grinned when we staggered from our rooms and crossed paths in the kitchen.

“Morning.” Colin mumbled, holding his hand over his mouth to cover his morning breath.

“Afternoon” I corrected, pulling my own T-shirt neck up over my nose to cover my own morning breath – and my broad grin.

We puttered around the kitchen silently, preparing our breakfasts. I grabbed a melon from the refrigerator while Colin tossed bread in the toaster and grabbed the jar of peanut butter.

“So.... I think last night worked out for the band.” I fished.

He nodded. Then grinned. “Yeah. I think it turned out OK.”

I nodded back trying not to betray any feelings or opinions on the matter.

“I had my doubts at the start.... Man, that guy was SO stoned....” Colin shook his head in disbelief and grinned. “But it turned out OK.”

“I think we salvaged it.” I nodded in agreement.

“No. YOU salvaged it. I can't believe you just jumped in and acted like you'd been doing it all your life.”

“I don't know what I was thinking.... But I know you and the band. You're sharp, funny guys. You just needed a chance to show it. It was YOU guys who made it work. I just asked lame questions. You had the great answers. YOU saved it. I was just a witness. …..and the people listening....”

“Do you think anyone was listening? And if so, were they all as stoned as Toby Reece?” Colin wondered aloud.

“We may never know.” I shrugged.

We would find out soon enough.

Silva's Stereo was a hi-fi & record store close to our house. It was also one of Doug Cohn's jingle clients. Doug had leaned on Ernesto Silva to stock the Shotgun Surprise album. He didn't have to lean too hard. He and Ernesto had worked together for years, and Doug let him have the album shipment with 90 day credit and agreed to buy back all the unsold copies. All Ernesto was really committing to was the shelf space.... Doug was taking all the risk and making it an offer too good to refuse. It was pocket change to Doug and he really wanted to start carving out his rep as a music mogul, so he gave lots of old advertising acquaintances sweetheart deals to get a foothold in the Phil Spector, Ahmet Ertegun, Don Kirshner music mogul game. I don't know if he really believed in Shotgun Surprise or just that Colin and his mates were the only 'talent pool' he had, but Doug took most of the financial risk to get his product into the market and carve out his toehold in his quest to be the next Phil Spector.

It turned out to be a good gamble.

Colin was walking me to work at the lightbox and we had time, so we wandered into Silvas. I think he was kind of psyched to see his album actually for sale in the bin of a record store.

We looked around. Checked out the “New & Hot” display.

Not there.

OK. Shotgun Surprise was new... but HOT was for Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, George Harrison, Deep Purple ….hell even Carole King! After her years toiling behind the scenes in the Brill building, she earned it. I felt badly for Colin that Shotgun Surprise wasn't on the New & Hot display. Still, most of the bands that were on that display, had years of paying their dues and multiple albums behind them to reach the 'hot' point.

We wandered over to the 'New' bin and rummaged through. Nothing. Colin then went to the alphabetical stacks. Still nothing. I could see the disappointment ...and annoyance... building on his face.

Finally, he built up the temerity ….or bile... to go up to the guy at the front counter and ask him where the Shotgun Surprise album was.

The guy just shrugged. “Sorry.”

I saw Colin tense.

“Sold out” the guy said. ...then smirked. “You're like the gazillionth person to ask today..... what's with that?”

Colin and I shared a glance. As it sunk in, a grin broke out on his face.

The counter guy was oblivious. “Come back next Wednesday. We restock Tuesday nights. Wanna reserve a copy?”

Colin grinned to me. “Nah. I'll chance it.” He smiled and headed for the door.

We walked in silence for a few blocks. I could see him churning his mind over our record store encounter and waited to see where he ended up.

“Sold out.” He muttered.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Wanna try somewhere else? I'm sure someone has a copy you can buy.” I teased.

Colin shoulder bumped me.

“He said 'the gazillionth today....” Colin grinned.

“Does that make you a gazillionaire?” I teased.

Colin smirked. “Maybe someone was listening last night.”

I shrugged ….and grinned... happy for his success.