Member Since: 17/05/2005
Band Website: swarthmoremusicstore.com
Influences: Once upon a time in a little town called Wayne in the great state of Pennsylvania there was a curly haired little boy names Al. Actually people called him "Crazy Al". When he was no taller than a classical Ibanez guitar, this new second grader and the rest of his classmates after returning from a long summer vacation were asked to introduce themselves and describe what they wanted to be when they grew up.One child began crying and bawled, "I, don’t know"! He was subsequently returned to the first grade. Ruth Feznick wanted to be a nurse. Chucky "Hopalong" Placebo wanted to be a cowboy. Nimrod Ozone with the coke bpttle bottom glasses wanted to be a science fiction writer.Finally it was Al’s turn. Standing and facing the class he began. "I want to be a distinguished musical retailer known for ethical business practices and good deals. I want to have a chain of stores. My logo will be a caricature of myself wearing horn-rim glasses slightly askew and held together with masking tape. I will be fingering a long fat cigar with my left hand and I will be holding a guitar in my right hand. I will have a slogan "Have I got a deal for you, walk with me talk with me". I’m talking franchises, quantity purchases, sales volume, stock options, leveraged buyouts, flim flams and sales training.""Crazy Al" was getting ready to explain the employee benefits package and outline his plans for warranty service centers when he was interrupted by Mrs. Flemmer smartly whacking the desk with a wiffle ball bat and screaming, "Al, you want to be a fireman when you grow up, plain and simple"!Joey Byrd’s turn. "I want to be a Doctor when I grow up." He was ready to add that his dad was a Doctor and had gone to Harvard, but one glance and hefty flex of the wiffle ball bat from Mrs. Flemner and he timidly sat down.Poor "Crazy Al". The wind had been knocked out of his sales. He just mpoed around. The other kids tried to revive his spirits by offering him jelly beans. One particularly thoughtful lad, Ralph "Fat Boy" Dorito even offered to lend Al his bike. To no avail, Al was crazed with "Retail Madness". He would wake up in a cold sweat at 3:00 AM in the morning, bumping into tables and chairs mumbling "thirty percent off! I’ll throw in a pack of strings" Furthermore, he would answer the phone "music store" at home. After awhile he was not allowed to answer the phone. Finally, his parents took him to a psychologist. For three years they paid thirty-five dollars a visit."Where did we go wrong" they asked themselves. "We did our best!" They sat him down and reasoned, "Al, you’re nine years old, it’s normal to want to be a fireman when you grow up, or a cowboy, or a football player. Maybe even Adam Sandler. Anything but a distinguished music retailer with franchis options and stock options. Al. You’re breaking our hearts and we are going broke"!Crazy Al did the best he could. He returned to drawing stick men in art glass (he got a "D".) He learned about the Lenni Lenape Indians, did book reports, played dodge ball, and wrote a five page paper on Lake Wallenpaupack. He dissected fruit flies, went on class trips, played little league an joined cub scouts. Everything you’d expect a normal child to do. His mom and dad were extremely pleased. They even started saving for his college education. They scrimped and saved and did without. They bought him books on how to score big on college board exams.Then out of the clear blue sky, he had a relapse. Beginning his sophmore year in high school, class members were asked to introduce themselves and tell the fellow class members a little about themselves. Al later said he had no idea he was going to do it. He told me "It kind of just happened". Standing and facing the class he began. "I want to be a distinguished musical retailer known for ethical business practices and good deals. I want to have a chain of stores. My logo will be a caricature of myself wearing horn-rim glasses slightly askew and held together with masking tape. I will be fingering a long fat cigar with my left hand and I will be holding a guitar in my right hand. I will have a slogan "Have I got a deal for you, walk with me talk with me". I’m talking franchises, quantity purchases, sales volume, stock options, leveraged buyouts, flim flams and sales training.I want to answer my phone "music store". I want to be asked a million questions. What does this do? How does that work? Is my amp fixed yet? Do you sell guitars? Can I try out that Scuzbo distortion pedal? I want to make phone calls to suppliers every day and ask "I order a blue guitar, any reason you sent me a red one?" And of course the sales rep tell me I have top buy twenty four guitars for the best pricing. Of course they only have a few in stock, probably won’t see most of them for six months. Three days later there’s a COD for $4,900 on 22 guitars. Surprisingly they had everything in stock except the two I originally wanted to order which of course they computer told them were in stock and you know how those computers are and blabbity blabitty, blabitty.Fifteen years later we saw "Crazy Al" in the store. "Hey Al, how are you doing?" "Okay", he answers and we hear him ask a question of a customer with his eyebrows arched in that question mode, "Strings", that’ll be five bucks.""Thanks Al."Al responds with a smile. As the fire engine screams by, Al gets a crazed look in his eyes. We didn’t ask but we think Al might want to be a fireman when he grows up.
Type of Label: Major