Standing on a shore of miles
appearing through the mist
My heart begins to pound, I shout
Behold! A sailing ship!
It is the one I've dreamt about
The one I've built by hand
with many friends who've built it too
It is the friend-ship, BaM
It took me all around the world
and wonders I did see
My life and love I gave to it
and some returned to me
But in my gaze; a pause - too long
the past had come about
And into mist my ship returned
to sail its final route
Although its bow has turned away
and left me on this shore
I wish it swift and fair sailing
but long for it no more
Thank you. Saving BaM's information is valuable to the PRS community.
And also, any of the more controversial opinionated posts I made while at BaM will now be as if they never existed. A real fresh start is truly a great thing.
If this thread is to be BaM's Epitaph, I would just like to say......
Goodbye old friend....... you will be missed! :cry:
Yes it's a shame to lose this media.... Thanks to Gry and Z for accepting the responsibility to host us at VR!
Disclosure** Officially a PRS Dealer April 2013 (GTRMAV)
Kids, I remember that day, granted it was not as memorable as the whole experience. . . but it was like eating Arby's shakes, it would taste great but you had to make sure you were heading home right after because it was truer to the name than In and Out's.
Maybe because seeing her, as with later encounters of those fun people, reminded me of a time that I had wished had run longer. I still worked at the store when I saw her after it all went down . . .
The young man at the counter as seen her wispy locks fluttering as she walked past. Staring down at the taped newspaper covering he remembered to put down the long soldering iron, telling himself 'You're working on a 4000 dollar instrument.' He took his time to look at her.
Her fingers gripped the chain link fence. Staring out at the old concrete bricked building. It looked the same, though the lack of human care had left long ago. The sign was missing. Burnt out metal drums hung out in the parking lot, with cakes of papers flowing around. The yellowed windows had cracks, some were smashed out, jagged shadows.
Long flowing hair, black as a raven's wing. Her name hung on the edge of his mind, her curves hidden in the loose blue textured jacket and the wind whipping the long dress around her legs. She turned, noticing the store, soft geen eyes slowly closing.
Turning around she heard the familiar clink of the shop's bell. She recognized the gray eyes, tousled hair, his freckles and pursed mouth breaking to her signature smile.
. . .
That was Mirya, the mestiza with the Russian name. Large green eyes, she had that "If she notices, avert your gaze look." Its not as bad as that sounds. It's a compliment. That amazing prettiness that cause you look away when she's about to catch you oogling her. Because cool guys are caught looking cool checking all the ladies, not just the beautiful one.
Like Phoebe Songwriter Girl, she had a bad opening experience but later her voice and playing would be redeemed as time went on. Unlike PSG her cheesiness was not due to her nature, it was she was a newb. She played with Hattori's band at the building on the BAM or 2nd floor. She played bass better than guitar but thought of herself as a guitarist. Hattori's would use her as double for rhythm or bass and later would find herself in Calvary's Song.
If you recall a few stories back, Hattori's band was not up yet but they were hanging around, and I broke two strings on my Les Paul and tried changing strings on the fly. The alcohol and stress explains the lack of sense here. Propping it on a mike stand, I flumbled and caused it to fall forward flat on its face and snap the headstock. Now I my vibe was messed up. Mayhem loves drunks, it's much easier to mess with them than sober people.
Our bass player got his Les Paul, but put it on the piano and somehow in the noise, it slid off and landed butt first, nothing to a fender, but the headstock snapped off that one. He freaked out and left. So our band was missing the bass and me. Miriya comes up, looking flustered and hands me a Custom 24, one of 24 that Hattori owned. She also had her P-bass and talked in my ear, 'Play with me.' Later and actuality it was , 'Finish with your band, we can mourn the losses later,'
That night was unforgettable. One of many at Birds and Moons.
Though our bass player was better than her, she kept up. Later I'd realized she had lost a bet / challenge accepted. And if we left Birds and Moons hanging, Hattori and his band would have to go early. Kid's don't be in that spot of doing something because you lost a bet and must accept the challenge. Losing can be harsh. Twice harsh. But for Mirya and I, it was a win win for both of us. The key thing is, she put a PRS in my hands.
After the closing of the building and the Birds and Moons lounge, most of us found each other at different places around the 'verse (university) and the town. But it was never at the level or openness that 2nd floor had, and not with all the experiences everyone had there. We all searched for something like that, until graduation had called us and a new chapter in our lives began.
Like everyone that visted the Birds and Moons lounge, it was there that I met my guitar.
In fact, the law makes your employer responsible for PRSI, though you may have to pay an employee's share. The amount of PRSI paid by you and your employer depends on your social insurance class.
Yes, I'm quite sure that Timmy likes Arbys :roll:
Fanboy of the Jester (AKA) James (Previously known as 11top)
Arby's, man, one time we all drove down to Daytona Beach for Spring Break, and stopped at an Arby's. An hour later we were all trippin out. Thinking the Arby's was spiked or sumthin. Never ate Arby's again.
Arby's is where Puddy went to celebrate his promotion at the car dealership with Elaine.
Last time I ate at Arbys I got the shitz...
Thanks for the trip down Memory Lane
I like pie.
I just realized that I have two BAM shirts. I think I score extra bonus points over here by also stating that I have at least 4 PRS shirts locked up somewhere.
Happy New Year 2013