Something Broken

Big Earl had broken a lot of things in his time. He broke toys when he was young, expectations when he was a teenager, hearts when he became an adult and all hope for the future as he moved into my senior years. And he had broken bones in all those times except his senior years. Sometimes he broke his bones and sometimes he broke other peoples. Let’s just tell about the time he got a double.

Earl’s Mom and Pop had a hard time living together over their lives. Of course, they had an even harder time living apart. As a result those two married and divorced each other about seven times before they died. Nobody is sure of the exact number. It could have been six. It could also have been eight. But seven was the number Big Earl heard most often, so seven it is. This little story happened while they were divorced and not living together.

Mom had always been interested in what Big Earl did at the bars he worked at. So one day, when he knew an up and coming band would be playing after opening for the Rolling Stones in Dallas, Earl took Mom to the bar. Earl was working but he had a couple of buddies that would help keep an eye on Mom. Between those two hulking masses of menace and several waitresses that knew Mom, he figured she would be safe and happy. The safe part was important because Big Earl worked in possibly the most infamous bar in North Texas. When you came in you were searched for a knife or a gun. If you didn’t have one, loaners were available. Earl went to work every day with a snub nosed 38 special in an ankle holster and a 45 automatic in a holster in the middle of his back, under his shirt. He carried a stainless steel six battery flashlight. He had a night stick in a holder on a Sam Brown belt. It also held a slap (eleven inches of spring steel and lead covered in leather), a sap (a foot of leather sock with three ounces of lead shot in the end of it), two pairs of handcuffs and a can of mace. Earl kept a switchblade in pockets on both side of his pants along with two pair of brass knucks. By the standards of that bar Big Earl was under armed.

The night Earl took Mom to Dallas a photographer took a picture of the bouncers, one bartender and one waitress. There were twenty nine bouncers, counting Earl, working that night. The club was less than three thousand square feet inside. That averages out to one bouncer every ten square feet. On a few nights, the only advantage the bouncers had was that they were well armed and vicious.

The happy part for Mom was from seeing DA, one of the bouncers watching over her. He had practically grown up in their house. Plus Earl got her a card that got her free drinks.

Mom started out liberally applying alcohol so she could get into the ambiance of the joint. Black painted walls with graffiti on them. Sayings like, “You must be weird or you wouldn’t be here.” Or, “Evil spelled backwards is live.” Disco balls hanging from the ceiling, strobe lights all over the place and multiple spots finished up the lighting. However, once the music started, everything else faded out. Big Earl didn’t want to say that this bar had the best band in Texas for a house band. They did, but he didn’t want to say it. They were called the “American Blues” and, after a name change, became a Texas legend and the three most famous beards in Texas. And they weren’t even the headliners. Plus, of course, the band that was coming in for a set after opening for the Stones. The music that night was out-fucking-standing.

It was even a pretty calm night for that particular bar. Bouncers were not working hard at all. There were only a couple of fights and nobody had to pull a gun or a knife or anything. Earl hadn’t even had to throw anyone out. The house band kicked off their set with “Jesus just left Chicago” and was headed for rock and roll heaven on a Stratocaster when the opening band for the Stones strolled in. Those guys weren’t quite a headliner yet, but they had just released the album that would define them as a band. Their manager told the announcer that they would play a set but that the bar couldn’t use their real band name. The manager got them drinks and girls and the band set back listening to the house band blow the doors off. Mom got to meet a couple of them. She was having the time of her life. The house band finished up with “La Grange” and the announcer called Earl to his stand.

He said, “I can’t call these guys by name. What do you think?” Now, Big Earl was a bit of a smartass and was known to be quick coming up with something to say. He grabbed the mike from the announcer. “Ladies and gentlemen I give you the one, the only: Nocturnal Canine Trio” As soon as he said that they kicked in with “Jeremiah was a bullfrog” and the festivities went up another notch. Mom was clapping and hollering and the possibility of trouble was almost to the “eyes in the back of your head” level. Something was going to blow. All of the guys who had worked in these types of bars knew it. And about an hour into what was supposed to be a thirty minute set, it did.

One of the drunks in Big Earl’s area threw a glass at the stage. Such behavior was considered a social faux pas in that establishment. So Earl went over for a short vigorous discussion of his behavior. The gentleman in question seemed to be of the opinion that Big Earl’s methods were somewhat harsher than absolutely necessary. Earl must have slipped up because, to the untrained eye, it looked like the miscreant hit Earl up side of his head. The second time the alleged miscreant tried it Earl was forced to come to the conclusion they were not going to be best buddies. He grabbed said miscreant’s right arm. In Earl’s enthusiasm to escort him safely from that fine, upstanding, low-life, dive of an establishment, it seems Earl broke the afore mentioned appendage. Just then one of the other bouncers showed up and told Earl he had seen the whole thing. And that the young man in question had thrown the glassware with his left hand. By this time Big Earl was getting a tad tired of the guest screaming into Earl’s ear that he was going to come back with his buddies and tear all of Earl’s friends and Earl to pieces. So, to make things easier for the boy to understand, Earl broke his left arm also. Then he told him if he brought his dumb ass came back Big Earl would be forced to shoot him. At this point the young man seemed to be sufficiently focused on what Earl was saying to understand what he meant. So, a couple of bouncers escorted the lad to the door and ejected him forthwith.

It wasn’t until years later that Earl found out Mom had witnessed the little altercation. She told his current wife about it and said that Earl was the only one of her sons she was afraid of. Mom said it was not just that Earl had broken the boy’s arms, but that he had been laughing and enjoying it while he did it. Earl didn’t mind that he broke the arms. That was a fun part of the evening. Earl didn’t even mind that Mom saw it, too much. He did mind that in addition to breaking bones that day, he also broke a little bit of Mom’s trust in him and replaced it with fear that Earl might hurt somebody, some day, just because he enjoyed seeing them in pain.

That is a break you can’t ever heal.