Now this is nothing but comedy. And it is said that the best comedy comes
from real life. And in this line of work, one can encounter some pretty weird
things. Here is a small list of stuff I've come across. Email me your stories!
If it's hilarious enough to post here I'll send you a FREE scifibassman T-Shirt!
WARNING: Some of this stuff is R rated. As true as it is, it might not be
appropriate for children under 30!
from real life. And in this line of work, one can encounter some pretty weird
things. Here is a small list of stuff I've come across. Email me your stories!
If it's hilarious enough to post here I'll send you a FREE scifibassman T-Shirt!
WARNING: Some of this stuff is R rated. As true as it is, it might not be
appropriate for children under 30!
Fall of 1999 while doing a gig in Harvard Square Cambridge I met a drunken lesbian recovering from
brain surgury!
brain surgury!
Students say the darndest things.......
I was teaching a VERY attractive 20 year old girl who was on her way to being a great bass player. I
was right in the middle of talking about a mixolydian mode when she blurted out that she thoroughly
enjoyed receiving oral sex from a guy with a tongue piercing! I completely forgot how to play for a good
20 minutes.
One kid came running into his lesson and said "Dude! My best friend went home from school and found
his girlfriend in bed with his sister!" Now how do you respond to that?
Another student would come in, sit down, look me straight in the face........and fart.
Adult students are the best! I was explaining to one woman how to tune her guitar, and in the process I
mentioned perfect pitch, and the debate about weather or not it really exists. And she goes, "Oh, like
the G spot!!!"
The same student also injured her hand and had some numbness in one of her fingers. While this would
be a tragedy for most guitarists she instead says, "Now it feels like a stranger when I masturbate."
I was teaching a VERY attractive 20 year old girl who was on her way to being a great bass player. I
was right in the middle of talking about a mixolydian mode when she blurted out that she thoroughly
enjoyed receiving oral sex from a guy with a tongue piercing! I completely forgot how to play for a good
20 minutes.
One kid came running into his lesson and said "Dude! My best friend went home from school and found
his girlfriend in bed with his sister!" Now how do you respond to that?
Another student would come in, sit down, look me straight in the face........and fart.
Adult students are the best! I was explaining to one woman how to tune her guitar, and in the process I
mentioned perfect pitch, and the debate about weather or not it really exists. And she goes, "Oh, like
the G spot!!!"
The same student also injured her hand and had some numbness in one of her fingers. While this would
be a tragedy for most guitarists she instead says, "Now it feels like a stranger when I masturbate."
In the fall of 2000 I was on a national tour with an R&B singer who loved fast food. She would go to
McDonalds and get a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin-------minus the egg and cheese. Just the slab of
sausage on the muffin.............................yuck!
McDonalds and get a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin-------minus the egg and cheese. Just the slab of
sausage on the muffin.............................yuck!
One of my Berklee Roommates had some odd eating habits. One of which was to hang a sourdough
pretzel from the springs of the bunk above him (mine by the way) at just the right position so if he got
hungry in the middle of the night he could simply wake up, sit up, take a bite, and go back to sleep.
Thing is.....he would use his earplugs (the kind on a string) to hang the pretzel on. Earwax included.
Gross..............
Speaking of gross, or more like desperate, another roommate of mine was particularly shy around
women. This in and of itself is not unusual. Thing is, he had odd ways of trying to attract women. I say
trying because he indeed was never successful. It was really too bad because our circle of friends
didn't know weather to feel bad for him or pick on him. So of course we picked on him. Anyway one day
I came home and found a soiled condom floating in the toilet. My first reaction of course was to
congratulate him on finally getting laid. And his response...."Nah, I just ran out of tissues."
Another friend of mine at Berklee was constantly accused of being gay. Funny thing is, his girlfriend
was also constantly accused of being lesbian. See a pattern here?
pretzel from the springs of the bunk above him (mine by the way) at just the right position so if he got
hungry in the middle of the night he could simply wake up, sit up, take a bite, and go back to sleep.
Thing is.....he would use his earplugs (the kind on a string) to hang the pretzel on. Earwax included.
Gross..............
Speaking of gross, or more like desperate, another roommate of mine was particularly shy around
women. This in and of itself is not unusual. Thing is, he had odd ways of trying to attract women. I say
trying because he indeed was never successful. It was really too bad because our circle of friends
didn't know weather to feel bad for him or pick on him. So of course we picked on him. Anyway one day
I came home and found a soiled condom floating in the toilet. My first reaction of course was to
congratulate him on finally getting laid. And his response...."Nah, I just ran out of tissues."
Another friend of mine at Berklee was constantly accused of being gay. Funny thing is, his girlfriend
was also constantly accused of being lesbian. See a pattern here?
15 years after graduating high school I bought a used Peter Gabriel CD at Newbury Comics that was
previously owned by a girl I was in homeroom with. I knew it was hers because her name was written on
the inlay card.
previously owned by a girl I was in homeroom with. I knew it was hers because her name was written on
the inlay card.
I was once in a band with a rhythm section lineup of Erik, Eric, and Derek.
This one ended up on Jay Leno!
Now I come from a hard working family with a long history in the food service industry. In particular, the
poultry business. But, just as in the music world, it is wise to know people in other parts of the business
like, beef, provisions, dairy, and so on. Well, through the grapevine, my grandfather hears about a
hapless delivery driver of a local beef company that was arrested for soliciting sex from an undercover
cop in a sting operation. While that must be embarrassing enough, before his arrest, instead of offering
money as payment he wanted to pay in beef! That's right, he wanted to pay in steak before playing hide
the salami. But that's not the end of it. A week later he was arrested AGAIN for the same thing! And,
you guessed it, he broke out the beef before whipping out the pork! Go find a cash machine dude!
Now I come from a hard working family with a long history in the food service industry. In particular, the
poultry business. But, just as in the music world, it is wise to know people in other parts of the business
like, beef, provisions, dairy, and so on. Well, through the grapevine, my grandfather hears about a
hapless delivery driver of a local beef company that was arrested for soliciting sex from an undercover
cop in a sting operation. While that must be embarrassing enough, before his arrest, instead of offering
money as payment he wanted to pay in beef! That's right, he wanted to pay in steak before playing hide
the salami. But that's not the end of it. A week later he was arrested AGAIN for the same thing! And,
you guessed it, he broke out the beef before whipping out the pork! Go find a cash machine dude!
I've discovered that I can tune my bass to my electric toothbrush.
While playing in a blues band on Martha's Vineyard I worked with a drummer named Jim Sturdivant.
Well we would go out there for days at a time to play several gigs and make it worth the trip. So during
the day we would just hang on the island waiting for the next show. There was a park in Oak Bluffs (or
Oaks Bluff as my retarded ex liked to say) with nice benches, picturesque scenery and so on. Many of
these benches were dedicated in memory of islanders who have passed on to the great gig in the sky.
Wouldn't you know it, one of them had a nice bronze plaque: In Memoriam --- JIM STURDIVANT
Well we would go out there for days at a time to play several gigs and make it worth the trip. So during
the day we would just hang on the island waiting for the next show. There was a park in Oak Bluffs (or
Oaks Bluff as my retarded ex liked to say) with nice benches, picturesque scenery and so on. Many of
these benches were dedicated in memory of islanders who have passed on to the great gig in the sky.
Wouldn't you know it, one of them had a nice bronze plaque: In Memoriam --- JIM STURDIVANT
Spring 2002 I was getting ready for a gig. To set this up a little, I used to drive a 2000 Ford Ranger. I
was quite proud of this truck as it was my very first brand new vehicle. CD player, AC, cap on the back,
alarm, etc.etc.etc. Well after 2 years of average use little things start to go wrong. Not big catastrophes,
just little quirks. Getting back to loading the truck, I had the tailgate down and was putting one of my
speakers in the bed. Now the battery on the alarm remote had been dead for some time. I just never got
around to replacing it. Well as I leaned on the edge of the tailgate I inadvertently pressed the ARM key
on my remote keychain (it was in my pocket). Of course there was just enough power in the supposed
dead battery to set my alarm! So there I am with an armed alarm, and no way to disarm it because my
keychain is dead! To thicken the plot, in true Erik fasion I should have left for this gig 20 minutes ago. I
have no choice, I finish loading the gear (the tailgate is not affeced by the alarm) and get into the truck.
So now my alarm is blairing away, I have really pissed off the neighbors because I make enough noise
as it is, but my truck still starts. Whew! So I start down the street. Figuring the alarm would cycle and
shut off. Nope! Every 10 seconds it goes off again! So I pull over (about 1000 feet from my house) and
try to figure out what to do. The alarm shuts off when I shut the truck off. When I start the truck it goes
off again! When we open the doors it goes off as well! So there we are, my girlfriend and I held captive
by a vehicle that I pay $300 a month for! She suggests that we call an auto parts store for help. Gotta
love the information age! The friendly girl at Auto Zone, between fits of laughter, tries to explain to me
how to manually disable the alarm. After giving me this whole song and dance, which includes such
things as crawling up under the dashboard and chanting and barking like a dog, she tells me that I still
need the battery to complete the process. And I still have to get to the gig! By this point my girlfriend
has her head in her hands, sobbing or laughing I'm not sure which. So I have to drive all through the
city to get to Auto Zone and get a battery, with this alarm going off. She is convinced we will get arrested
for appearing to be driving a stolen truck, but people were getting out of our way because they thought
we were an unmarked cop!
was quite proud of this truck as it was my very first brand new vehicle. CD player, AC, cap on the back,
alarm, etc.etc.etc. Well after 2 years of average use little things start to go wrong. Not big catastrophes,
just little quirks. Getting back to loading the truck, I had the tailgate down and was putting one of my
speakers in the bed. Now the battery on the alarm remote had been dead for some time. I just never got
around to replacing it. Well as I leaned on the edge of the tailgate I inadvertently pressed the ARM key
on my remote keychain (it was in my pocket). Of course there was just enough power in the supposed
dead battery to set my alarm! So there I am with an armed alarm, and no way to disarm it because my
keychain is dead! To thicken the plot, in true Erik fasion I should have left for this gig 20 minutes ago. I
have no choice, I finish loading the gear (the tailgate is not affeced by the alarm) and get into the truck.
So now my alarm is blairing away, I have really pissed off the neighbors because I make enough noise
as it is, but my truck still starts. Whew! So I start down the street. Figuring the alarm would cycle and
shut off. Nope! Every 10 seconds it goes off again! So I pull over (about 1000 feet from my house) and
try to figure out what to do. The alarm shuts off when I shut the truck off. When I start the truck it goes
off again! When we open the doors it goes off as well! So there we are, my girlfriend and I held captive
by a vehicle that I pay $300 a month for! She suggests that we call an auto parts store for help. Gotta
love the information age! The friendly girl at Auto Zone, between fits of laughter, tries to explain to me
how to manually disable the alarm. After giving me this whole song and dance, which includes such
things as crawling up under the dashboard and chanting and barking like a dog, she tells me that I still
need the battery to complete the process. And I still have to get to the gig! By this point my girlfriend
has her head in her hands, sobbing or laughing I'm not sure which. So I have to drive all through the
city to get to Auto Zone and get a battery, with this alarm going off. She is convinced we will get arrested
for appearing to be driving a stolen truck, but people were getting out of our way because they thought
we were an unmarked cop!
Fall 1998- My friend Justin and I were performing in a theater run of THE WIZ. One of the lead
characters had contracted a rather nasty cold. She was popping zinc tablets like they were going out of
style. Curiously, her wireless mic started cutting out in the middle of the shows. The sound man was
convinced that it was due to all the zinc running around her system!
characters had contracted a rather nasty cold. She was popping zinc tablets like they were going out of
style. Curiously, her wireless mic started cutting out in the middle of the shows. The sound man was
convinced that it was due to all the zinc running around her system!
I always tell people when they ask me how to break into the "biz" that the best way to get involved is to
pick up the phone. Answer ads, make up business cards so people can call you etc etc.
Well I once answered an ad from a rather interesting individual from western mass. He made a big deal
about paying union scale and so forth and had himself convinced that his music will sell like hotcakes.
Well when I arrived at the address specified, which I though was some reharsal studio and ended up
being his apartment I was confronted by an old man who looked like a cross between Curly Howard and
Jabba the Hutt. Just imagine him speaking in Jabba Language....."HOO HOO HOO do wadda ju nee na
du bass guitar".
This guy was just as gross. Had his ass parked on the couch, smoking unfiltered cigarettes, drinking
cheap champagne from a thermos all while coughing and hacking and spitting the phlegm into a trash
can. All the while speaking in a manner that would make even the most hardened sailor blush. My first
instinct was to get my hazmat suit. Well here is the clincher.....After finally getting to play a few tunes
between coughing fits he announces the need to take a piss. His bathroom was right off the main room
we were working in. He doesn't shut the door and drops his pants revealing his shit stained Depends
underwear, not to mention his terrible aim. At this point I proceed to set a land speed record for a 4x10
speaker cabinet as I bolt out the door! I showered 3 times a day for a week after this. To this day he
holds the rather dubious distinction of being the single scummiest bastard I have ever met!
pick up the phone. Answer ads, make up business cards so people can call you etc etc.
Well I once answered an ad from a rather interesting individual from western mass. He made a big deal
about paying union scale and so forth and had himself convinced that his music will sell like hotcakes.
Well when I arrived at the address specified, which I though was some reharsal studio and ended up
being his apartment I was confronted by an old man who looked like a cross between Curly Howard and
Jabba the Hutt. Just imagine him speaking in Jabba Language....."HOO HOO HOO do wadda ju nee na
du bass guitar".
This guy was just as gross. Had his ass parked on the couch, smoking unfiltered cigarettes, drinking
cheap champagne from a thermos all while coughing and hacking and spitting the phlegm into a trash
can. All the while speaking in a manner that would make even the most hardened sailor blush. My first
instinct was to get my hazmat suit. Well here is the clincher.....After finally getting to play a few tunes
between coughing fits he announces the need to take a piss. His bathroom was right off the main room
we were working in. He doesn't shut the door and drops his pants revealing his shit stained Depends
underwear, not to mention his terrible aim. At this point I proceed to set a land speed record for a 4x10
speaker cabinet as I bolt out the door! I showered 3 times a day for a week after this. To this day he
holds the rather dubious distinction of being the single scummiest bastard I have ever met!
I once made eye contact with Steve Harris. I can die a happy man.
I once saw a sushi bar in a ski lodge in Ludlow VT.
Did you ever meet one of these guys that was infatuated with his own penis? Well I know such a person.
To protect his identity, I will call him Bart. Well Bart was the singer in a band I was in in the early 90's.
One night we were playing a bar in Warwick, RI and he got very, very drunk. During load out, instead
of helping us heave gear, he just took out his pecker and started waving it around, much to our chagrin
I might add. Well at one point he leaned back and PROCEEDED TO PISS UP OVER HIS HEAD AND ONTO
THE GROUND BEHIND HIM WITHOUT GETTING A DROP ON HIMSELF! Now that is control. No need for the
Viagra with this man....
To protect his identity, I will call him Bart. Well Bart was the singer in a band I was in in the early 90's.
One night we were playing a bar in Warwick, RI and he got very, very drunk. During load out, instead
of helping us heave gear, he just took out his pecker and started waving it around, much to our chagrin
I might add. Well at one point he leaned back and PROCEEDED TO PISS UP OVER HIS HEAD AND ONTO
THE GROUND BEHIND HIM WITHOUT GETTING A DROP ON HIMSELF! Now that is control. No need for the
Viagra with this man....
The 4th of July 1999. I was doing a gig on Martha's Vineyard. This was the year that President Bill
Clinton was vacationing on the island, so the police presence was unreal to say the least. Now the
guitarist in the blues band I was working with had a pot smoking habit that I have never seen before,
and always had a stash on him. During load out a Mass state K-9 unit happened by. The dog of course
started sniffing John's guitar bag. That was when I headed in the opposite direction, which in this case
was the Atlantic Ocean, because I knew he had at least an ounce in there. Believe it or not, the dog
didn't alert the officer!!!!!!! When the officer moved on I told John that he needed to visit his proctologist
the remove the horseshoe from his ass.
Clinton was vacationing on the island, so the police presence was unreal to say the least. Now the
guitarist in the blues band I was working with had a pot smoking habit that I have never seen before,
and always had a stash on him. During load out a Mass state K-9 unit happened by. The dog of course
started sniffing John's guitar bag. That was when I headed in the opposite direction, which in this case
was the Atlantic Ocean, because I knew he had at least an ounce in there. Believe it or not, the dog
didn't alert the officer!!!!!!! When the officer moved on I told John that he needed to visit his proctologist
the remove the horseshoe from his ass.
My wife played violin at a wedding where the best man was a lesbian.
Lexi and I were at an Airshow in the summer of 2004. All the usual stuff was there F-18's, F-15's,
C-130's and so on. Well at one point the MC announces a flyby of the B2 Stealth bomber. One single
flyby. Well I of course was doing something stupid like looking at sunglasses at some kiosk when the
plane came by. I turn around just in time to see the B2 disappearing into the distance. I thought for
sure that the pilot would make another pass, but nope. I turn to Lexi and, out loud, in the presence of
hundreds of people, I profoundly say....."Man, the Stealth Bomber.......how did I miss that?"
C-130's and so on. Well at one point the MC announces a flyby of the B2 Stealth bomber. One single
flyby. Well I of course was doing something stupid like looking at sunglasses at some kiosk when the
plane came by. I turn around just in time to see the B2 disappearing into the distance. I thought for
sure that the pilot would make another pass, but nope. I turn to Lexi and, out loud, in the presence of
hundreds of people, I profoundly say....."Man, the Stealth Bomber.......how did I miss that?"
-Al at Gordon Music Leominster MA says: Some guy came in to purchase a guitar. But instead of paying
with cash or check or credit, he traded a valid winning lottery ticket of equal value!
with cash or check or credit, he traded a valid winning lottery ticket of equal value!
When I was a sophmore in high school I did a trip to Disney World in Florida with the school band. We
all got our shots, had chaperones, emergency phone numbers, etc to ensure our safety. But our charter
bus had bullet holes in the windows!
all got our shots, had chaperones, emergency phone numbers, etc to ensure our safety. But our charter
bus had bullet holes in the windows!
Friday, October 26, 2007
Combat Zone gigs
I just got off a rather exaustive tour with the DLB. We did Daytona Bikeweek, and then a gig in Nashville
TN. Now most of the time things run as smooth as clockwork, but every once in a while we run smack
into a situation that is so rediculous that not even the Farrely brothers or Mike Myers could script it.
I'm talking about the proverbial Combat Zone gigs. And anyone that plays in a band knows what I'm
talking about.
While in Daytona, we got asked to do a last minute gig in the middle of our second day. We find the
venue which is outdoor in a dustbowl parking lot. The stage was a, ahem, "modified" truck trailer. The
power was substandard and the PA was a glorified transistor radio. The "soundman" showed up and
proceeded to give all a big rash of shit for no reason. Like this guy had anything to brag about. 3
teeth, unshaven for at leat a week, t-shirt with holes in it, and Rolling Stone pajamas! Now there's a
fasion statement. Now I've seen this kind of thing before many times, but here is the kicker: this dude's
DAUGHTER was offering boxing matches. That's right, boxing! Ther was one of those big inflateable
jungle gyms set up along with these big padded boxing gloves. The deal was $10 to box with this girl and
$20 to box with her topless. Now remember that this is his daughter that this guy is pimping out all
while he is supposed to be running sound for us! That is gross enough as it is. But now let's look at the
girl, well to make a long story short, imagine me trying to wear my girlfriends underwear. That was her
body type. That, in addition to acne, nicotine stained teeth, and unkempt hair. I'd rather see Bea
Arthur wearing thigh high boots and a strapon.
So then we start playing. Dan immediately starts having problems with his amp due to the shitty power.
I avoided any issues because of my step up transformer built into my rack. Skip was just being a dick
all the way around as usual. And finally the piece de resitance', Dan looses a tooth right in the middle
of a song. I mean it fell right out of his head between notes!
THEN!!!! We were packing up and my phone rings. It's my girlfriend telling me that she was watching
the weather channel back home and saw a fucking TORNADO heading our way!
I am not making this up. I smell a Guiness book of records entry......
If I ever have a gig like this again I'm gonna switch careers to something safer like being a human
cannonball or something.
March 2007: I was playing Daytona Bikeweek with Dan Lawson. In the middle of a song a lovely little
lady approached Dan and asked him to announce to the crowd that she needed a tampon and was
wondering if anybody would help her out. The best I could do was to offer her earplugs.
December 2006: Upon arriving at a gig for a private function at a steakhouse in a Boston suburb, the
restaurant manager comes over to ask us how we would like to set up. Well we were figuring in an effort
to not blow the regular patrons out of the main dining area, we would set up WAY in the back of the
restaurant. But that's not the point. This lady is, in my mind, the stereotype of a restaurant manager.
Mid 50's, spent too much time in the sun, probably a smoker, too much hairspray, plucked her eyebrows
all the way off only to paint them back on, and REALLY BIG TEETH. Remember that vision for a
moment..... Getting back to the load in: We were halfway set up when this lady comes back in---wearing
a different shirt. "Oh, you're setting up here?" she says. And of course we're thinking "No shit bitch 10
minutes ago you TOLD us to set up here." "You really should set up in the front of the room so people
can see you." Oh hell..... So we drag our half set up rigs over to the front of the room. Another 10
minutes goes by and she returns. "I thought you were gonna be in the back of the room?" Is this chick
fuckin' senile! Then I realized she was wearing the original shirt she had on. You guessed it. Twins
Bazel.....twins.
Combat Zone gigs
I just got off a rather exaustive tour with the DLB. We did Daytona Bikeweek, and then a gig in Nashville
TN. Now most of the time things run as smooth as clockwork, but every once in a while we run smack
into a situation that is so rediculous that not even the Farrely brothers or Mike Myers could script it.
I'm talking about the proverbial Combat Zone gigs. And anyone that plays in a band knows what I'm
talking about.
While in Daytona, we got asked to do a last minute gig in the middle of our second day. We find the
venue which is outdoor in a dustbowl parking lot. The stage was a, ahem, "modified" truck trailer. The
power was substandard and the PA was a glorified transistor radio. The "soundman" showed up and
proceeded to give all a big rash of shit for no reason. Like this guy had anything to brag about. 3
teeth, unshaven for at leat a week, t-shirt with holes in it, and Rolling Stone pajamas! Now there's a
fasion statement. Now I've seen this kind of thing before many times, but here is the kicker: this dude's
DAUGHTER was offering boxing matches. That's right, boxing! Ther was one of those big inflateable
jungle gyms set up along with these big padded boxing gloves. The deal was $10 to box with this girl and
$20 to box with her topless. Now remember that this is his daughter that this guy is pimping out all
while he is supposed to be running sound for us! That is gross enough as it is. But now let's look at the
girl, well to make a long story short, imagine me trying to wear my girlfriends underwear. That was her
body type. That, in addition to acne, nicotine stained teeth, and unkempt hair. I'd rather see Bea
Arthur wearing thigh high boots and a strapon.
So then we start playing. Dan immediately starts having problems with his amp due to the shitty power.
I avoided any issues because of my step up transformer built into my rack. Skip was just being a dick
all the way around as usual. And finally the piece de resitance', Dan looses a tooth right in the middle
of a song. I mean it fell right out of his head between notes!
THEN!!!! We were packing up and my phone rings. It's my girlfriend telling me that she was watching
the weather channel back home and saw a fucking TORNADO heading our way!
I am not making this up. I smell a Guiness book of records entry......
If I ever have a gig like this again I'm gonna switch careers to something safer like being a human
cannonball or something.
March 2007: I was playing Daytona Bikeweek with Dan Lawson. In the middle of a song a lovely little
lady approached Dan and asked him to announce to the crowd that she needed a tampon and was
wondering if anybody would help her out. The best I could do was to offer her earplugs.
December 2006: Upon arriving at a gig for a private function at a steakhouse in a Boston suburb, the
restaurant manager comes over to ask us how we would like to set up. Well we were figuring in an effort
to not blow the regular patrons out of the main dining area, we would set up WAY in the back of the
restaurant. But that's not the point. This lady is, in my mind, the stereotype of a restaurant manager.
Mid 50's, spent too much time in the sun, probably a smoker, too much hairspray, plucked her eyebrows
all the way off only to paint them back on, and REALLY BIG TEETH. Remember that vision for a
moment..... Getting back to the load in: We were halfway set up when this lady comes back in---wearing
a different shirt. "Oh, you're setting up here?" she says. And of course we're thinking "No shit bitch 10
minutes ago you TOLD us to set up here." "You really should set up in the front of the room so people
can see you." Oh hell..... So we drag our half set up rigs over to the front of the room. Another 10
minutes goes by and she returns. "I thought you were gonna be in the back of the room?" Is this chick
fuckin' senile! Then I realized she was wearing the original shirt she had on. You guessed it. Twins
Bazel.....twins.
