Albums, Poems, Stories, Instruments, Animals.

This is one of the basses I made before concentrating on my albums. Click on the Bass to see the other instruments I have made. My albums will take you - well, to my albums!.

KILLING VICTOR WOOTEN Victor Wooten, bass player for Bela Fleck and The

It was 2 pm in the afternoon. An afternoon like any other in the beautifully colorful yet sometimes decrepit days working with people who think they are the mother of Ex President Clinton, or the illegitimate son of Ozzie Osborn. I must confess that I believe my brains defence mechanism when faced with TOO MUCH craziness, crazy people, or psychiatrists, is to fall asleep. Matter of fact, I'm famous for it - a moniker I do NOT wear with pride. I once visited a poor fella in jail who was quite angry and delusional (He was just recently released from restraints for playing dodge ball with his own waste.). I couldn't help it. When such pathology is married to vast echo's against concrete walls embracing jail cell doors, I'm out like a light. Not all was lost though. This great person became completely stable and objective when in a fatherly way he said, "Paul, I think you'd better go home and get some sleep."

So here I am driving a 5 thousand pound Plymouth cannonball out of my parking garage when I see him jump before me like a meteor hailing through the ether. A sauntering walk with a body wrapped in swathing coats seemingly talking to nobody in thin air with headphones jammed in both ears. CHRIST!!! I slam on the pedal and am rocked by intermittent antilock brakes thudding to a stop. "Whew!! God, I'm glad I didn't kill that guy!"

I need to be more better sharper!!

This parking deck is adjacent to our mental health center where I see these beautiful people hanging out nursing cigarettes like long lost lovers. Someone more cynical might think, "Good, one less person to deal with," but I know better. Many of these folks are more dear than the majority of the ten toed double fisted brief cases that walk along Jefferson avenue on their way to a seperate reality.

THEN, my eyes tell me, in a motion quite slow, that this is not a "consumer.". . THIS is someone even MORE sinister. MY GOD. This is a MUSICIAN ("That's right," says only I, to me and myself, "Bela Fleck is in town tonight!!"). AND, not only a musician, but perhaps one of the greatest musicians in the world. I roll my window down and ask quite meekly, "Victor, is that you?" This poor fella, just realizing he IS NOT going to die this day, slowly nods his head yes. I sense the adrenalin slowly dissipating from his central nervous system, and ask the only important thing I CAN ask. "Can I have an autograph?"

Now, what are the chances that I am going to almost kill Victor Whooten - one of the greatest bassists in the world - in Peoria Illinois? I guess statistically, there's a greater chance in Peoria than New York. After all, there are more people in New York.

We all want to leave a stamp on the world. We want to make a difference. We want to be hero's. I have gained another new life experience, and the knowledge that the world is going to continue to be a better place because I did not kill Victor Whooten - this day. Bela Fleck and the Flecktones will continue to tour and make many people smile. Many more jaws will continue to drop in amazement at the sight of such virtuosity. I am powerful, and I have made a difference. And I am awake!

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