A how-to guide

Wolf Redboy

PART ONE

Chapter One

“The Descent”

8.10.06

It was sweet of Ed to drive down with me all the way to Las Vegas. It really was. Because he didn’t have much time left in the States. Soon he’d be going off to Iraq to report on the war for the New York Times. So I wouldn’t be seeing him for awhile. It was sad, but all the same, he had no business commenting on the smell in my car.

I gave him a look to show I didn’t approve.

And the conversation continued like this for about 1200 miles.

“No longer are you a student at some college,” Ed said. He held his nose. “Now you are a teacher … This is a big step for you.”

“Ya I know,” I said. “But you know me. I really want to be playing music. As I always talk about. But, on the other hand, you’re right. At least this will be a nice stepping-stone toward the rock band. Sting was a teacher.”

“And Vegas will be cool, too,” he said.

“Do you think?”

I looked at him. He looked away.

“Listen,” I said. “Just so you know, the idea of Vegas makes me want to vomit. The only reason I took the job, again, is because of my Dad. He likes the heat. And they’re desperate for teachers.”

“Sure, Las Vegas man, is a city that is growing like, what did you say, three thousand people per month?”

“Ya. Three thousand new people per month. That equals thirty new schools per year. And they have a huge budget because of the gaming industry.”

I looked out at the passing mountains. Sharp and jagged brown rocks were everywhere. A dead animal was on the road being picked apart by lizards.

I continued, “And it’s true that I knew that it would be easy to get a job. I mean, why apply everywhere when you get can paid fifty grand, which is so much for a teacher – in Vegas?”

“Maybe there’s a reason they’re paying so much.”

Ed stared ominously.

“Don’t say that,” I cut in. “Believe me I would rather not be in fucking Vegas. I want to be in Portland.”

“Oh, I’m just joking,” he said, looking away.

“No you’re not. You can’t believe I’m moving here. And I can’t either.”

Suddenly, I felt my legs paroxysm. My lungs tightened. “Please somebody shoot me. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No,” Ed interrupted, patting my back. “It’ll be cool man. Think about it. It’s a city of 2 million people. 2 million. That’s a lot. There’s gotta be people who are just like you there. I mean, there’s the strip, right, but people who actually live in Vegas never go to the strip, I hear. It’s a completely different world. I don’t know why you’re not excited.”

“I just feel like I should be up in Portland, driving pizza, following my bliss, and slaying my inner dragon.”

“Well you can do that here, too.”

“Do you think so?”

“Are you kidding? Of course! And think of the women!”

“Ya I know.”

“So just imagine what it will be like in Sin City! Imagine what they’ll ask you to do.”

“Ya,” I said, relaxing a little at this news. “That’s a good point.”

“It’s heaven,” he said, “A virtual nirvana.”

I smiled. “Ya, what was I thinking? I guess you’re right.”

“Ya man. All that money you’re going to make. Fifty THOUSAND dollars. Try to imagine.”

“Ya.” Ecstasy ripped through my body. “I couldn’t afford a cup of coffee and I got all those women. Try to imagine what it will be like if I have money for the first time.”

“I’m telling you, man.”

“You’re right, you’re right, Ed. As usual. This is going to be awesome. Get the band going, meet all these beautiful women!”

“YES!”

“Teach, which is such an ethical thing to do.”

“You couldn’t pick a more ethical thing to do.”

“This is going to be amazing.”

At this point, Ed tried to hang up an air freshener.

I slapped his hand away.

For more, search Wolf Redboy on  Amazon.com

Nickell’s Bag,
Music, art, and life in Missoula

Wolf Redboy, in the company of literate oddballs

October 15th, 2009, by Joe Nickell
“With a voice so pinched he sounds like he’s being strangled after inhaling a helium balloon, Wolf Redboy will never count among history’s great smooth crooners. Rather, his voice – both lyrically and musically – falls in the long line of earnestly oddball singers who’ve given grain to the glow of American popular music over the past half century: the Dylans and Reeds, Byrnes and Youngs.Maddening men all, with their squeaking voices pronouncing profound thoughts, sometimes only barely keeping a tune, always commanding attention. Redboy, a Missoula-raised musician who has played his original music around town for the past several years, may not yet stand shoulder to shoulder among those greats. But he undoubtedly walks in their footsteps, as made evident on a new, three-song demo CD that he and his new band will release this Friday night, Oct. 16, at the Badlander….”

Read the full review on Joe’s blog here