FLYERAMA, PT. 3: HERE & THERE

...and here we have miscellaneous old flyers tossed together back in the day.  Self-explanatory...

FLYERAMA, PT. 2: THE PEACOCK ROOM

After Bodhisaatva's closing, the Peacock Room became the primary clubhouse for the Delusionaires' more informal, laissez-faire shows, albeit in a slightly less debauched environment (for one thing, we had to actually leave after they closed for the night).  We instantly felt at home there, and for good reason: a couple years earlier, that very location was the video store I'd worked at, in which our first few months of practices were held.  I'm happy to report the building has done considerably better as a bar than as a video store, and the Peacock is one of the few classic Dels locations to still exist in its original form.  Booking became a little trickier there after Pat Greene left; during his tenure, there was at least one occasion where we learned of the gig that very morning in the paper.  Effortless!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE "ORIGINAL" DELUSIONAIRES...

This blog's officially one day old now, so I'm gonna tell ya before we get too far in: there's not a lotta success stories yer gonna read here.  The Delusionaires just weren't that kinda band.  Which in retrospect is for the best, 'cause as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing less interesting than reading about how great a show went, or how well a record sold; failures, shames, and disasters make for much better history, and I think you'll find we've laid a solid groundwork for some riveting reading to come...

That said, this post commemorates an event that not only did NOT end catastrophically, but actually ended up as one of our more successful ventures. This, of course, could be none other than the Delusionaires' "40th Anniversary Reunion" at the Peacock Room, ca. Halloween of 2004.  The inspiration came a couple of months earlier after a show at Will's, when Jim & I shook our heads at Nadeem's semi-geriatric ensemble of high-ankled black socks and shorts and envisioned our elderly selves reuniting in decades to come, billed as "The Original" Delusionaires to differentiate us from the franchise's presumedly numerous lineups over the years.  For once, we actually followed through, and with a vengeance. Come Halloween, we were hosting our own 40th anniversary spectacular (our logic being that since none of us would be alive 40 years hence, we better play the reunion while we still could), and no stops went unpulled.  We employed a (very messy) bubble machine for atmosphere (unfortunately directly behind me & Jim, lathering our asses in a most undignified manner for a good hour straight), a nurse was in attendance for emergencies (which proved essential when 80-year-old Artie took it a little too far on the dance floor), a rousing game of Bingo provided the intermission activities (the prizes being autographed Depends diapers), and both Nadeem and Brian showcased mercilessly bald pates for all to admire (the latter slightly concealed by a first-class combover).  The years had not been too affectionate toward the boys' stamina or musicianship, but you had to give 'em credit, their stented, angina-ridden hearts were all in it...

Billed, in classic fashion, after the customary single remaining member...

Lil' Jimmy's dentures stay put long enough to finish a song...

The gorgeous and incomparable Lorna Lambey joins in for a stunning finale, while her much-missed partner and spouse Mark Wayne handles the lovelies on the dance floor.  Miss y'all hard....

FLYERAMA, PT. 1: BODHISATTVA!

Gradually attempting to gather the artifacts of the Dels' love affair with Kinkos over the years, an undertaking severely complicated by my amazing disorganization, laziness, and history of failing hard drives.  First up's a batch from the beloved Bodhisattva Social Club, our first and favoritist home-ahead-of-home, where many of our highest and lowest moments were to occur.  Hell, I met my wife there at a Dels show, thanks to Nadeem, who had invited her in the course of a Yahoo Groups discussion while she was in town on business.  We played there on their official opening night (our second show; we didn't even have a real name yet) as well as on their very last night (though nobody would know this until the next day, when chains mysteriously greeted the staff as they arrived for work).  I'll get into specific Bodhisattva stories in due time; for now, here's some of the slop we used to try to sucker people into seein' us there...

HISTORY LESSON, PART ONE

Exhumed from the wreckage of the old Delusionaires website: the uncharacteristically true tale of the Delusionaires' origin, showing us to be just as ill-planned and unprepared in birth as we would be throughout our career.  The only difference was, this time it kinda had a happy ending...