Epilogue
So that's the tale of my first brush with Mardi Gras. I slept on the floor with my coat for a pillow, and I sure didn't make much money, but it was still a dream realized. My guerilla radio-convention showcase was a genuine success. Several of the radio guys who saw me play are spinning my record on their stations. And unlike my last trip to the Crescent City, this one did not prompt my girlfriend to leave me.
That happened later.
Laissez les bon temps roulez!
I was born a Yankee
But God was only fooling around
'Cause when I finally found my feet on Rampart Street
I knew I'd found my real hometown
And when it's time to go
I'll be going down in the land of dreams
'Cause I was born a Yankee
But you can bury me in New Orleans.
—BORN A YANKEE
Bob Malone's unpublished book, Road Dog: Tales from the Honkey-Tonk Highway, chronicles his life as an independent touring musician from 1997 to 2002, when most of the worst stuff went wrong. This story takes place in 1997. Bob doesn't do "most of that stuff" today. To find out what he does do, check out BobMalone.com, where you can hear his music or buy his CDs.
Born and raised in the New Jersey outback, Bob Malone currently resides in Los Angeles where he lives with his lovely wife Karen Nash, a very nice cat named Zulu and a furry thing from hell called Bacchus.