Arkansas is known as the "Land of Opportunity," but for me, opportunity lay elsewhere. I made my escape from the Diamond State in the mid-eighties, at a time when the height of fashion was Izod and multi-hued mohawks. I had from childhood a reputation for marching to my own drumbeat; from these humble beginnings an new entity began to emerge.
Bringing with me to the Heart of Texas a soul sold to rock and roll, I was fortunate enough to be exposed to not only excellent musical forms and folklore (especially in relation to my Muses Janis and Anthony, and my Uncle Jimmy), but a series of individuals who not only encouraged my natural instinct to entertain, but also to disregard any restraints of "normalcy." Through several mesalliances of varying length and the love of certain particular people (Kyle, Jay, etc.) who, as all true friends always do, loved me unconditionally, I learned and grew.
By the middle of the next decade, I found myself in a place that will henceforth be referred to as "El Jardins de Carlotta." Meldonna exploded in full force with my election as Mayor of the complex, where I was lucky enough to be involved in a community as vibrant as it was twisted. My main partners in crime during this period included Eric the Grillmaster; JonJon the Grillmaster II; the Duchess (when she wasn't busy getting married...again); a dark circle at the center of which was Oma; Ms. Dee, Royella; and mi amigo Christian, who has, alas, departed from our fair midst to the upper midwest. Somehow I don't think we've heard the last of him, thankfully. Life settled into a predictable, albeit amusing, pattern. Little did I know...
Shortly before the millennium, an event of epic proportions occurred. Quite by accident, I was reunited with a long lost sibling, my dear Gregory. We were able to trace our roots, and reclaim our rightful heritage.
Which is, of course, the Manhattan Tallulahs. |
