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Author’s Forward:
For those of you not in the know, Mike Rowe and I worked for the same people at the same time during the mid-90’s. By the end of that decade, we had both left our respective positions at QVC in pursuit of other opportunities. I moved onto the mutual fund industry and Mike took on a series of Dirty Jobs, narration gigs, and other endeavors.
One of those endeavors involves a 21st century version of Paul Harvey’s ‘The Rest of the Story’; where Rowe tells the little known nuggets which season human history’s momentous occasions throughout the years. The thing that makes Rowe’s ‘The Way I Heard It’ a 21st century version of Paul Harvey’s work is that the medium is via podcast.
In the spirit of ‘The Rest of the Story’ and ‘The Way I Heard It’, I’ve decided to tell my own version of a momentous occasion which took place not too long ago.
Naturally, I don’t expect you to believe everything you’re about to read. After all, the tale is told from my own perspective. You should know by now that when I write, I tend to add a healthy dose of hyperbole to make sure the idea takes hold with you, my beloved reader.
With that in mind, read the following story with the suspicion that not all of it could be true. At the same time, know that the only parts of this story that are not true are the ones I’ve made up.
Please enjoy.
It was a Wednesday afternoon in the middle of April.
Nestled in a bedroom somewhere in the vicinity of the Texas capital of Austin, a young man sat in front of a mirror preparing for what was potentially the most important, life changing meeting he would ever have. Later on that evening, he had planned to meet with Dave about a career opportunity in an industry in which a few doors needed to be opened. As a titan in the industry, Dave had a few keys to the those doors. The young man’s name was Yayo, and technically speaking, Dave had no idea about the existence of Yayo or the meeting that would happen later on.
Given the nature of Dave’s availability to meet that evening, Yayo had to be creative. He couldn’t just go knock on an office door or time a trip to the water cooler to coincide with Dave’s thirst. Even if he did get Dave’s attention, he also had to get Dave to give the young man a minute or two to make a convincing case that he belonged in Dave’s universe.
What were the odds of that happening?
One in ten?
Such an estimate was incredibly optimistic, as it was pretty difficult to get on Dave’s calendar.
The young man’s primary objective that evening would be to capture not only Dave’s attention, but his imagination as well.
Yayo had already figured out how to get Dave’s attention, and that’s why he was sitting there in front of a mirror on a Wednesday afternoon in the middle of April, wearing a pair of purple denim shorts and a faded black tank top which said “Motorhead” on the front. His long black hair had been pulled back into a pony tail so as to remove any obstacles from the task at hand.
Yayo was putting makeup on.
Yayo had figured out that Dave would only see him as just another face in the crowd of other faces. Dave was a busy man and didn’t really have time to acknowledge everyone who was vying for his attention. The makeup would turn the casual glance into a stare. The makeup would help Yayo get that all important meeting with Dave.
The white base went on first.
Black was then applied, first to the forehead in a triangle pointing downward. It was then added to the lips. Last of all, the most difficult part was to add black in symmetric flares around the eyes.
When Yayo was done, his face bore the resemblance of Gene Simmons of KISS.
The odds of Yayo capturing Dave’s attention for an impromptu meeting were looking better.
One in ten?
Maybe.
It wasn’t very often that an enterprising young man like Yayo could paint his face like Gene Simmons and get the desired attention from someone like Dave.
Now if Dave were a rock star and Yayo were a fan, then maybe things would be different. Yayo could make his way up to the front of the crowd at the base of the stage where Dave was performing, and use the KISS makeup to get the attention he needed. He could make a sign with a message meant only for Dave. Only a few people on the stage and near Yayo in the crowd would know what the sign said. “Hey Dave. Can I have about four minutes of your time?”
The casual observer standing on the grassy hill 100 yards back from the stage would have no idea what the sign said.
If Yayo could get Dave’s attention and make him momentarily forget the words to a song he was performing, then his work would be done. What were the odds of that happening?
One in ten?
One in ten million, maybe.
None the less, Yayo had a song in mind that had been written by Dave and a few others over twenty years ago. Just a few years prior to composing the song, Dave had beat the odds of fading into obscurity after his previous project had ended abruptly in the epitome of a sad rock and roll cliché. In the time since the song was recorded, Dave had sung it literally thousands of times during who knows how many performances.
The song was an up-tempo rock song, written in the key of B major and performed with distorted guitars in Drop-D tuning. The lyrics chronicle the disintegration of relationship. Fans of the song have characterized it as a fun little ditty with a fast riff and a lot of energy and rage.
At least, that’s what the internet says about it.
The song, and any other song for that matter, was so much more than the amalgam of monotonous analysis which could be found on any number of websites which offer up reviews and backstories about their construction. The studio recording of the song is a good one, but experiencing a live performance of it is a compulsory exercise if you’re putting down money to see Dave perform.
One of the reasons why Dave was such a successful rock star was because of his ability to convey just how much fun he was having up there on stage singing that song and every other song he had performed over the years.
Yayo was a fan of the song and could play it on guitar.
If Yayo could get on stage and play that song with Dave…..
One in ten?
No way.
Even still, that wasn’t going to stop Yayo. He was ready.
His face was painted up like that of Gene Simmons.
He had his Motorhead shirt on knowing that Dave was a fan of that band too.
He had his sign.
He had a guitar pick or two in his pocket as well.
Right around 8:20 pm that night, Dave took the stage with the rest of the band he had formed all of those years ago. Yayo stood there at the front of the stage holding his sign. Dave made eye contact several times, smirked, and proceeded to turn up the energy of the crowd. During a mid-show interlude just right before 10:00 pm, Dave began introducing members of the band and gave them an opportunity to offer up their own solos. When Dave got to Chris, the lead guitarist, Yayo got confirmation that he had been noticed.
“I bet that guy with the Gene Simmons makeup likes Alice Cooper.” said Chris. He then performed the old Alice Cooper song; Under My Wheels.
One in ten was starting to look better.
The mid-show interlude continued and coalesced into a cover of the song “Under Pressure” where the band’s drummer and the lead singer of the opening band provided the vocals in tribute to the late Freddie Mercury and David Bowie.
When the tribute was complete and everyone on stage was back in their normal place, the band was ready to move into the last half of the show. It was now time to sing that song known for its energy and rage.
Yayo had spent the better part of the first half of the show requesting that special, one-off meeting with Dave. By then, he had put his sign down and was enjoying the evening. Little did he know that Dave had decided earlier on to take that meeting.
“Hey KISS Guy. Looking at you.” Dave was now adorned with his golden colored guitar, and called out to Yayo. “Did you have a [effin] sign?”
One in ten?
The odds were getting better.
Yayo held up the sign to his intended audience. Dave read the sign to himself and then proceeded with the requested meeting. “What instrument do you play?”
A chill went up Yayo’s spine as he responded.
“This?” Dave pointed to his guitar. “Do you suck?” The crowd laughed with Dave, the funniest individual found in the amphitheater that night. Dave then provided immediate and direct feedback to Yayo’s sheepish response. “Don’t [effin] say ‘kinda’ or I won’t invite you up here on stage.” The ground began to shake as the crowd realized what was about to happen. “That’s right KISS Guy. Get your ass up here!”
One in ten?
The odds were now one in ten that Yayo didn’t get on stage.
Now one should make a note at this point that no one on stage or in the crowd at the Austin 360 Amphitheater on that hot Wednesday night in the middle of April had any expectations that some kid with KISS makeup which had been plucked out of the audience could add any modicum of value to the evening’s performance. The mere fact that Dave took the chance to introduce Yayo into the event showed the band’s confidence in their ability to play that rage filled, high energy ditty with a monkey wrench plucking the strings on Dave’s golden guitar. Even more, it showed the love that Dave had for the fans and the music he played. “Don’t get too excited yet.” Dave admonished the crowd. “He might shit the bed in front of your hometown.”
Expectations remained low as Yayo made his way onto stage and proceeded to knuckle bump Pat, Nate, Taylor, Rami, and Chris, the other members of the band while Dave tried to get his name. When he realized Yayo wasn’t readily available to give his name, Dave made business decision right then and there to refer to Yayo as “KISS Guy”.
Yayo finally made his way to the middle of the stage where Dave passed on the drop-D tuned guitar to him. “Have you ever done this before? It’s really fun.” Yayo put the strap over his shoulder and the guitar in position at his right hip. He then politely declined the guitar pick that Dave offered him and thrust is hand into his pocket to fish out his own. “He brought his own [effin] pick!” Dave exclaimed.
Dave was baffled. Was he being set up? What was going on here? Before he could even launch an interrogation of why on Earth some kid he pulled out of the audience was prepared with his own guitar pick, Taylor the drummer started a count of four on the symbols and the band along with Yayo initiated the fast, high energy riff that told everyone in the amphitheater that night that the next several minutes would be dedicated to a failed relationship. Naturally the surprise start of the song didn’t completely catch Dave off guard. After all, they had played that song thousands of times over that last two decades.
Now that we’re this far into the story, let’s summarize Yayo’s objective for the evening.
Get noticed. Check.
Get on stage. Check.
Play a song with the band. Check.
The only thing left to do was to make Dave forget the words to the song.
One in ten?
You betcha.
And so Dave sang and Yayo played.
They did the first verse.
They did the chorus the first time. Right after that first chorus where Dave expressed that he wouldn’t be a rogue element in the life of the other party in the relationship, he called and audible and provided additional instruction to Yayo. “Come on, do a solo.”
Yayo obliged with a quick little bit designed to lead into the second verse.
That of course was the verse where Dave was to lament the wasted time when amends could have been made in that ill-fated relationship from 20 years ago. That was the point where he was supposed to express helplessness around the fact that his enemies were friends and that his attempts at flexibility around that situation caused so much pressure that he just snapped in the end.
But he couldn’t.
That quick little solo that had been belted out when it was requested had impressed Dave so much that he lost his train of thought and could only laugh with pure joy over the tribute he had just received from this kid wearing KISS makeup. He tried to recover with the lyrics but just slurred his words and made a proclamation to everyone in the amphitheater that night. “I can’t even remember the words!”
Check.
When it came time to sing the chorus again, Dave had collected himself and was able to recall the words to that song. He continued to sing and Yayo continued to play.
The song itself already had the energy, the passion, and the intensity to be a fan favorite.
A live performance of that up-tempo rock song written in the key of B major and performed with distorted guitars in Drop-D tuning magnified the energy, the passion, and the intensity every time Dave and his colleagues played it.
On that night in April when Dave introduced a monkey wrench into the machine so as to show some love for his fans, everyone in the amphitheater that night got more than they bargained for. Dave and everyone else got a fan who could play that song, and play it well.
At a later point in the song, Dave gave Yayo another opportunity to belt out another solo, and the newly ordained KISS Guy obliged.
By the time the unscheduled meeting came to an end and Yayo, Dave, and the other guys had hit that last chord, thousands of souls in the vicinity who had just experienced something amazing screamed, cheered, clapped, and deployed a variety of other methods to signal the joy they were feeling at that moment. Some wondered if that had been a set-up or if it was truly organic.
In the end, Dave and Yayo found themselves bowing in reverence to each other out of respect and love for what had just happened. The crowd chanted “KISS Guy! KISS Guy!”
KISS Guy was subsequently dismissed to an area back stage. Pat, Nate, Taylor, Rami, and Chris, the other members of the band, left the stage as well. Dave stayed out there and went on to tell the crowd that anytime he’s ever pulled someone out of the crowd to play with them, that it’s never been set up. He also declared right then and there that KISS Guy was the best one he had ever pulled out of a crowd.
Dave proceeded with the concert by telling a story about a cross country trip he had made many years ago, and how he lost his wallet on that trip. The story ended with him getting his wallet back several years later. Even still, that’s another story for another time, and most likely won’t be told here.
The casual observer who may not have been at the Austin 360 Amphitheater on that Wednesday evening in 2018 would probably doubt the authenticity of a story about a fan who made a rock star forget the words to his own song. Naturally, all one has to do is a simple search on the internet to validate the ramblings of some malaprop-wielding malcontent. When you take to the internet to validate such claims, here are a few tidbits which will aid your research.
Yayo Sanchez (@yayosanchez333), donned Gene Simmons makeup in order to get the attention of Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters at a performance in Austin, Texas on April 18, 2018. He was subsequently invited onto the stage by Dave to play the song Monkey Wrench on Dave’s guitar. Yayo’s performance of the song wowed the audience, and some people are still writing about it today.
For what it’s worth, there’s less than a one in ten chance that I just made this stuff up.
Kiss Guy, U shredded into the unknown, U played with all of your heart, and inspired so many people. You became that moment @yayosanchez333 Always folliow your heart and keep doing what U love! #Amazing #shredded #guitar #kissguy #love #davegrohl #foofighters #cool #music #heart pic.twitter.com/fAt2LpykO2
— Striking Thoughts (@EchoWandering) April 26, 2018
