Biography [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Phase One began in earnest, then almost as quickly stopped in earnest. There was a problem. There was no piece of wood of a suitable size in the shed. Joining two pieces together was discussed and dismissed. If stardom was to be attained by September, they didn't have time to hang about waiting for glue to dry. No. A suitably sized piece of wood had to be found.

Now, it's been mentioned before that the first boy's Father was keen on carpentry, a skill he'd learned in school, and while in school he'd made a rather fine coffee table which now stood in pride of place in the living room. A living room in which two small boys were now standing looking quizzically at the said coffee table.

"Well, it's not exactly new, is it?"

"And they never put coffee on it, do they?"

"And people are always trippin' over it, aren't they?"

"We'd be doin' them a favour!"

The coffee table now stood in pride of place in the toolshed, while a paper cut-out roughly (and only roughly) resembling the body of a Stratocaster was carefully drawn around on its surface. Several band saw blades later, a crude but vaguely recognisable shape was missing from the top of the table, and on the workbench a suspiciously similar shape was being lavishly coated with pink primer paint. Two sawdust-encrusted and pink paint-besplattered boys stood back to admire their handiwork.

"How long do you think it'll take to dry?"

September was only five weeks away.

"Maybe tomorrow!"

They contemplated the next twenty-four hours of potential wasted time.

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