So many parallel weirdnesses inform this story that it's going to take a huge juggling act to even TELL it, much less convey a sense of what it might have been LIKE.....

Starting at the beginning. "Cavestomp!" is an annual three-day lovefest of "garage bands", old and new......bands which, to oversimplify, either SOUND something like the Standells or actually happen to BE the Standells......well, that's not really fair, but it's a good start if you need a good start. The event is brainfathered by one Jon Weiss, a stalwart of the Mid-80's Non-Hair-Band scene in New York (read: GARAGE BANDS)--who has since gone whole hog on the Non-Hair concept and forcibly removed all his own hair. Not that you need to know that. Yet.

Jon was with the Fleshtones briefly--(the prototype for this kind of music in the early-to-mid 80's, and still going strong today) and soon after, formed his own band, The Vipers. Although the Vipers split up ages ago, both those bands performed at this year's Cavestomp--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

We had yet to ATTEND a Cavestomp, though it's been going on for a few years....there was always something else going on at the time....last year it was Moby Grape, and who in his right mind would miss THAT? Even though last year's Cavestomp boasted the first modern-day reunion of the Pretty Things, and also Mark Lindsay singing with the Chesterfield Kings.......tough choice to make, but we made it, and that's that. I had it in the back of my mind, though, that THIS YEAR we were gonna make it to Cavestomp. SOMEBODY good was bound to be playing.

Ha!!!!!!

So, backing up again, I hope if you've read this far and not just drifted in from elsewhere in the cosmos, you're aware of The Monks--and the near-obsession that I and all right-thinking peoples have with 'em. If by chance you are outside this particular loop, for Prawn's Sake CLICK HERE! and go catch up. It won't hurt much and the rest of us will wait for you over by the third oak on the left, I promise. Okay?

Back already? Fine. Now. You may have noted that in the Spring of '99 I was inspired to create a fake Monks' Xmas Song, which you can find elsewhere at this site. I was rather proud of the way it turned out....so proud that I crossed my fingers and sent copies to all the Monks themselves, hoping that I had not managed to find the one thing they had no sense of humor about. I needn't have worried; they loved it, and each one called to tell me so. And I thought, at that time, that "it don't get much better'n this." Having your ego pumped by your idols is extremely refreshing, especially when you spend your entire day at work being treated like something your customers want to scrape off of their shoe. Yes?

So, anyway.....concurrent with this event, an interesting and very disparate (not "desperate", mind you, although maybe we were that as well) Motley Group of individuals, myself included, had been pelting the message board at the Monks' website with heartfelt pleas for a reunion of some sort. Not necessarily a tour, but maybe a one-time thing......maybe in front of an invited audience, even, for maximum comfort and minimum jitters.......professionally video'd so the REST of us would get to see it.........remember: not only have the Monks not all been in the same room since 1967, but they NEVER PLAYED IN AMERICA, or even the U.K.

Well, you've already guessed how this ends up, of course, but believe me it was a tremendous bombshell when we heard rumors that the Monks would be playing Cavestomp 99. Such a bombshell, in fact, that the aforementioned Motley Group started making plans, on the message board, to converge on NYC in November from literally all over the world.

Cavestomp has traditionally been held at Coney Island High, a marvelous little dankhole on St. Mark's Place. But, early this Summer, we read that the place had been shuttered; railroaded out of business by the usual Forces Of Evil in this age of Giuliani Sunshine--and, by the way, am I the only one who has noticed that Rudy Giuliani is the closest living analogue to a Hirschfeld drawing? Anyway. No more Coney Island High........

Then, Midsummer, Jon Weiss drops his bombshell: a posting on the Monks' Message Board concerning Cavestomp 99--with the Monks playing TWO nights out of the three; once as headliners, and once as second banana to......the ACTUAL STANDELLS? EEEEK! And wait...you need more? What about the OTHER totally impossible, don't-even-bother-wishing, "You'll-Never-See-THIS-In-Your-Lifetime-Bucky" Sixties Reunion......The Chocolate Watch Band? ???!!!!????

I promptly inform Wendy that we will need to take the entire weekend of November 5-7 off from work. Upon seeing the lineup, she needs no further convincing. I also note that this year's shows will be at the Westbeth Theatre Center, a place I'm familiar with.........more on that later.

Meanwhile, things are not yet firmed up with the Monks.....I know for a fact that at least Eddie and maybe others are not keen on the reunion concept.....that music made by fervent young men with fire in their bellies is sometimes not so well reproduced by men who are kicking grudgingly at a door marked "60". I, and others, took pains to make clear that--while this objection was an excellent point--the Monks had nothing to live up to, never having played here before--and any shot was a good shot. For US at least. And, what went UNSAID was that they were not in a position to procrastinate, given that door marked "60."

It was time. Time to pick up some old weapons and blow some new holes.

So negotiations continue......and then, one day, a posting appears on the message board, from someone whose name I can't recall, saying something to the effect that he had heard that Gary Burger was dragging his feet on the commitment and that he should get off the pot, or some such words...........I'm sure I wasn't the only one who panicked upon reading that, imagining what would go through Gary's mind when he saw it......so I poured some oil on the waters, and E-mailed Jon Weiss (whom at this point I still don't know from Adam) about the posting. To my surprise, I receive a frantic return E-mail from Jon, asking me to call him. So I do. He wants everyone to know that it'll all work out. Of course it will, I tell him. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, who the f*** am I??? Guess I'm just a fan and he wants the word out to the fans. And he wants to make sure, I guess, that I don't post anything that'll make it WORSE. Point taken. Not that that was gonna happen anyway.

Right around the same time, I read about the REST of the lineup.....among others: The Fleshtones (whee!), Jon's reunited Vipers, and one of my new passions, the Loons.....the band fronted by Mike Stax of Ugly Things magazine, a truly head-spinning band who manage to find a triangulation point between Arthur Lee, the Pretty Things, and the Small Faces......yipes. Yes please!

So, on a midsummer night when we are heading into NYC to purchase tickets for September shows featuring David Bromberg and The Good Rats.........ON THE SAME NIGHT in two different venues.......we decide to head toward the Westbeth Theatre Center and see if we can score the hat trick and procure Cavestomp ducats as well.

The Westbeth takes up an entire city block, between Bank and Bethune Streets, smack up against the West Side Highway and the Hudson River....and "JOIZY." There are several theatre spaces in the complex, and about a zillion rehearsal studios and recording studios in the basement. Also, a huge block of "Artists' Residence" apartments. It's a very interesting pile of rock.

The theatre's entrance is on Bank Street. Throughout the Summer of '99, Margaret Cho is doing her "One-Cho Show", I guess, in this theatre. So I postulate that the box office will be open as we drive up, at I guess about 8:45 or 9PM. I step up on the sidewalk (while Wendy drives around the block) and note the Cavestomp advertisement on the door. I hear the sounds of much Cho-ing and the accompanying gales of laughter inside. As I walk in, there is a woman at a desk to my left. I ask her if I can get Cavestomp tickets here, and she looks down her UPSCALE MANHATTAN NOSE at me and says "Cave-WHAT???" Crusty hippie beneath-her-notice piece-o'-crap, me. She is just barely helpful enough through her Curtain Of Disdain to inform me that the box office is only open from 2 till 6. So we go home.

We procrastinate until early September, when we take a weekday off and go to Other Music, where they HAVE tickets and don't care whose money they take. We get a small stack of one-day tickets for a few friends, and I take the opportunity to purchase all five of the Os Mutantes CDs. Don't ever call me Late-For-Dinner, but I'll admit you can sometimes call me Late-For-Sub-Equatorial-Psychedelia. Better late than never. And anyway...if YOU don't have 'em yet then I'm STILL way ahead of YOU. I recommend you start with the first three and play 'em all at once. Or, you can do what I did.......slam all five of them into the CD changer at work, hit the REPEAT button, and let 'em play non-stop through five days of Post-Hurricane Customer Panic. Very soothing. Ha!!!!

We still have to go back to the Westbeth, though, because for some reason Other Music sells only the SINGLE-NIGHT tickets, and we gluttons want the special three-day passes, which save you a little bit of dosh if you are intending to blow your ears out FULLY. So back we go to Bank Street. Wendy drives around the block, since there is no available parking, and I head into the building, through the SIDE door, and follow a handwritten sign up a flight of stairs. (I mean, not the sign ITSELF. The sign just SAYS.......ah, forget it.)

What was I talking about?? Oh, yes. I go up the stairs, and there on the second floor is a long hallway, with several dressing-room-lookin' kinds-a-places, and right in front of me is the box office. It takes the Box Office Guy quite a while to figure out just how to sell a three-day pass (which turns out to be three separate, regular tickets--just for less money) so I spend the interval just gazing around the immediate environs. Kind of a foyer/lobby sort of an area, with what looks like the remains of a balcony/projection-booth section--this must have, once upon a time, been the upper floor of the theatre downstairs, and it's been sealed off and made into an actual second floor. Very weird. Never seen anything like it. And right in front of that are curtained alcoves that appear to be auxiliary dressing rooms. Very interesting-looking place. Little did I know that that exact spot, which I never expected to see again, would be the site of some thoroughly amazing and totally unpredictable events for me........be patient, dear reader........

The suspense builds throughout September and October. I speak and/or E-mail back and forth with Gary, Eddie and Dave, just to reassure myself that it's actually happening. Gary, meanwhile, answers his "critic" on the message board, with a diatribe that nearly melts portions of my screen......and points out that what he was "holding out for" was more rehearsal time, in New York, with the instruments they'd actually be playing with.....in order to assure that we'd all get the best show we could get.

The importance of that extra NYC rehearsal time turned out to be monumental.....albeit in a very different way than anyone thought. Especially me.

In the interim, all us rabid Monks fans, message-board stalwarts, and web-site administrators, are sending giddy E-mails back and forth through the ether.....no, let's make that aether.........there, much better. The additional bonus, of course, is: not only are we gonna see The Monks, but our little Motley Cadre are all going to actually meet face to face--another prospect that would have very recently seemed impossible.

So, with the show only a few days away, the website flashes the news that--in addition to the Friday and Sunday shows, there will be other stuff too. Eddie will be reading from his book on Thursday, and on Wednesday all five of 'em will be at the aforementioned Other Music to meet, greet, and sign things. Triple cool. Because I had had some trepidation that we might not get a chance to actually meet them amid all the bustle of the live shows. Even though they had all made a point of telling me to make sure I introduced myself. And the mysterious Alex, from their website, has asked me to contribute a review of the new CD of early Monk demos, Five Upstart Americans, which I promise to deliver on a diskette on Wednesday.

In an unusual stroke of luck (for me), I am idly reading the huge block of useless text that AOL piles on to the end of my E-mails, and I note that "Alex" is actually "Alexandra" BEFORE meeting her, rather than DURING. So that was nice.

SO...........finally, here's Wednesday night. I have a love/hate relationship with Signings, as I'm sure you do. If the event is sparsely attended, you feel awful for the Celebrity Guest....(unless, of course, it's Michael Bolton--back when he was "Michael Bolotin", and you worked in a record store, and NOBODY SHOWED UP!! HA!! HAAA!! All true.) Conversely, if the WHOLE CONTINENT shows up, it's ALSO a big drag........you wait all night for your MOMENT, the Celebrity Guest is trying not to get cranky but is clearly cracking and steaming at the seams, and it is virtually impossible that you--the fan--will be able to come up with anything interesting or even remotely non-imbecilic to stammer out when you finally lock eyes with said Celebrity Guest. Which, of course, does not stop EVERYONE ON THE F***ING LINE FROM TRYING, does it? I have a vivid memory of waiting patiently to talk to--gasp--Captain Beefheart, at the edge of the stage at the Stanhope House in 1980--just behind a tall, wild-eyed, impossibly skinny Junkie Type. When said Junkie Type got his Moment In The Sun, he was gonna show Don that he was his Biggest Fan, etc..........and all he could come up with was, I swear, "Fast And Bulbous, eh?" (Don replied, gamely, "Always.") THEN, there was the time we went to Brian Wilson's book-signing at Tower.......now THIS was gonna be something. Bonus: on line in front of us.....Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore. THERE'S a line I can stand on. So we finally get face to face with the genius of geniuses......and he smiles that slightly crooked smile and asks our names so he can sign the book for us. As I am rattling off our names--(from MEMORY, mind you. I can DO that)--his face goes dead. he manages to finish signing, but then lurches out of the chair, mumbling to his "minder" about having to get a drink of water....and there's a bottle of water right in front of him. It occurs to me, much too late, that "Mike" and "Wendy" are two bad names to say to him at this particular moment in history, for two very different reasons. Well, who would've thought? Would YOU have made that leap? In time???? It was really miserable, though.......just watching the curtain swing shut in front of his eyes.........lights out.

So ANYWAY.....this brings us back to the Other Music store on Wednesday. Other Music is, by the way, a neat little emporium if you haven't had the pleasure......it's across the street from Tower and caters to a perhaps more discerning, left-of-center clientele. Suffice to say: if (I say IF) there's a 12-CD box set of somebody banging a severed head on a copper pot, this is the place where you're likely to find it. Is that a good thing?

As we trudge up the street at precisely 8:05 PM, we note no line outside. This is good. We're just hoping there is a suitable showing INSIDE. And there is. Lots of people milling about. The Monks are all at one long table just inside the door--except Eddie, holding court down the end, on a stool. Luckily, although a CONSIDERABLE amount of time has passed since the pictures on the album cover, they are all recognizable to us. We wander around for a few minutes, listening to them talk to the other folks, and then we get on the line.

I catch Gary's eye first. When I identify myself, he almost leaps over the table. So do Dave and Roger. Remember when I said "....it can't get any better'n this"?

There's a camera & sound crew recording the event. They, of course, are thoroughly puzzled now. Who is THIS guy? Is he important?? Should we film him?

I wouldn't find out till later that the cameraman was Dietmar Post.....the one person whom Eddie had told about my Monks Xmas tape WITHOUT informing him that it wasn't real.........and Dietmar had contacted me frantically, several times, to get a copy.......once he GOT the tape I never heard from him again. So I assumed he was not amused. That's okay. Germans are known for beer and sausage--not for their sense of humor.

While looking around the store trying to figure out which of the Unidentified Lurking Humans are people that I KNOW, I happen to notice a familiar face--Dennis Diken. Well, of course! Where ELSE would he be? We talk for a couple of minutes.....turns out he thought the Monks were going to PLAY here tonight. Now THAT would have been interesting.

Anyway--in the next hour or so, we spend several very pleasant moments chatting with the Monks, getting our picture taken, and meeting various people with whom we've corresponded.....among them Alex, and her partners Jerod and Jo, who all seem like nice enough people. Well, WHO--among Monks Fans--would NOT be?

We hang around for a while, get our pictures taken again, and stand there trying to look humble while Eddie tells everyone within earshot about my tape. He introduces me to Johan Kugelberg of Omplatten Records, who is quite happy to hear me gush about the Os Mutantes CDs I have recently picked up in this very spot in which we are standing. Eddie, of course, gives him a copy of my tape. I also take my first opportunity to stand and chat awhile with Larry--the only Monk with whom I had not yet actually spoken. All in all, it was great. The Monks were, as we knew they'd be, just wonderful......very accommodating to any and all comers. And I, unexpectedly, am treated as a Minor Celebrity in the presence of Monks and high-ranking Monks Fans.

Remember when I said "....it can't get any better'n this"?

Soooo, this brings us to Thursday night......and Eddie's Book-Reading appearance, at Shakespeare & Co........interesting that, in this big ol' city, all these events are within a block or two of each other. Unfortunately, we have a Nephew's Birthday Party happening on this same evening, so it's decided that Wendy goes to the party and I go to the reading.....and maybe I'll get back early enough to catch the tail end of the party as well.

The trip to NYC is, for some reason, bumper-to-bumper deadness all the way, and I arrive late. Eddie is midway through his dog-and-pony, and there are just a couple of seats available. I elect to stand in the back so as to cause as little commotion as possible. I again scan the room, trying to figure out which of these audience members are people I know. I have still not met Jon Weiss or the mysterious Will "Shade" Bedard, who has written much if not most of the material on the Monks' website (under about thirty pseudonyms) and is also a Lowry Hamner fan--he, Wendy, and I are possibly the only three people who can claim an acquaintance with both Lowry AND The Monks; and that alone would make him worth talking to, in my book.

During the Q&A, surprise audience member Dave Day (Roger is here as well) stands up, and takes a few questions too....and, in answering one of them, makes a brief but truly heart-rending speech about his extremely difficult Post-Monks experiences living in a tent in Germany, and constantly pulling up stakes (literally) to stay one step ahead of the police......and eventually being found and brought home by his worried brother, and virtually having to be re-taught his own native language.......a goodly part of the audience has not yet read Eddie's book, of course, and so this is the first time they're hearing that story. A lot of jaws drop, and there is total, respectful silence. A very moving moment in a weekend loaded with much noisier Moving Moments.

Post-reading, there is of course a protracted period of book-signing. As prearranged, I buy another copy--for the Frankel/Wooley Family, who'll be at the Sunday show (so we think)--and Eddie says, "Friends? Do you love 'em?" Following my puzzled but affirmative answer, he grins mischievously and inscribes, "To Mike And Sue--Mike Fornatale loves you both, Eddie." So now THAT'S been notarized.

During a short Break In The Action, as Dave is sitting next to Eddie, Eddie leans over to him with a grin and says quietly, "We be Monks." Dave laughs and answers, "That's right!" Normally that wouldn't be worthy of inclusion, but I still feel the need to take pains to point out how far away these guys are from the bile-spewing Princes Of Evil that many of their fans expect them to be.

As the milling-about continues, I meet Kelley Stoltz, just off the plane from San Francisco--he's a Telegraph Company Artiste (one of only TWO, apparently) and he's written on the Monks' Message Board several times. I also find out that the fellow I've been standing next to is Dave's son--he does bear a striking resemblance. I also meet the redoubtable Sherrie, whom Eddie has previously described as his "girlfriend"--how cute is that?--and shortly thereafter I am introduced to Jon and Will. The Telegraph Trio are beside themselves--they now have practically the entire Fan Cadre in the same room. And all of us getting along famously, with no one Jockeying For Position the way fans of ANY OTHER BAND would be doing. Know't I mean? This was special. This band is special. These people are special. But you knew that. Right?

Remember when I said, "It can't get any better'n this"?

Jon announces that he is taking Dave and a few others over to the Westbeth to have a look-see at the venue. I silently hope for an invite, and elect to shut up when I don't get one. Just met the guy, after all. Besides, I have to get home and try to catch the end of Nephew's birthday party. I do remember thinking, though, that I'd like to go over and have a look at the theatre before the show.

Ha!!

I am now knocking myself for not getting pictures of all these various and sundry folks, but there was so much going on......(though, if you ever require an excellent shot of the back of Kelley Stoltz's head, he's right in front of me in that first picture, in the tan jacket.....) However, it would turn out to be quite fortuitous that I met all of 'em that night instead of the next day, as you'll see........

The last little group of us leaves, and Eddie, Sherrie, and the Telegraph Folks are going to take refuge in a corner bistro, and they ask me to come along......but I have to try and catch the end of the Nephew Party....duty calls, and besides, I do love the little dickens. So I pump out a few regrets and sprint up the block, drive home like a maniac, and lo and behold I don't make it. Everybody's gone. I go home. Well, frankly, I've had more fun these past two nights than I have any business having.

Remember when I said, "It can't get any better'n this"?

I have written considerably more about all this minutiae than I had expected to, but all these details become mightily important, as the story takes a truly bizarre twist-o-rama.....

You'll recall that we have elected to take the entire weekend off from work. I figure I can get a lot of work done in the yard, and also I willl be Good-To-Go if any Monks should call and invite me to look in on any final rehearsals.

So we get up early--because we are, after all, fine upstanding citizens, even when we're sitting down. At any rate, I'm sitting at the kitchen table at 8:45 AM, reading the paper and having coffee, when the phone rings. Who in the world????

The entire text of the phone call--which, believe me, is burned into my memory as indelibly as my own name--follows:

"Hello?"

"Mike?"

"Yeah."

"Eddie Shaw."

"Hey!"

"Uh.....you got any plans for today?"

"Oh...the usual. Raking leaves and seeing The Monks."

"How many of our songs do you know?"

(pause)"All of 'em......I guess..........................why......?"

"Gary has laryngitis. He can't sing. He can't even talk."

"................"

"Do you think you could come to the Westbeth at 3, for the soundcheck?"

"............yeaaahhhh..........."

"Okay, look, we're gonna present this scenario to the promoter. One thing though: we've changed the keys on a lot of the songs, and lowered them.....can you sing them in the lower keys?"

".........sure......I guess.......whatever works for you guys......."

"Now that's the kind of f***ing singer I LIKE."

"........[strangled chuckle]........"

"Okay. You're a Monk. See you at 3."

".......'kay......."

Wendy re-enters the room and notices that my face is a greenish blue and there are sparks popping out of my ears. She deduces that something unusual has happened. I relate the story, as best as I can. It sounds to me as though my voice is coming from another room.

I call Frankel--I had been meaning to do so anyway, to tell him I got him his book--and I inform him of what has transpired. He makes a noise into the phone which is not unlike that of a very large macaw being strangled.