Our good friend, Rusty Burns from Point Blank, in his 
home recording studio.

Savvy was unique in that most of the really BIG things that happened for us were the result of events we were supposed to play - but didn't get to. The 1980 and 1981 Texas Jams were prime examples. Opening for Heart on July 16th, 1981 had made up for a lot of the bad breaks we'd been through so far. There might have been bigger places to play than Hemisphere Arena, but bands just didn't come any bigger or hotter than Heart! We'd considered that show to be a big success and major milestone for us. Savvy was definitely on top of the world, stoked, and ready to take on the Houston Agora again, fresh from our recent big show. We didn't even think about the fact that the Jam was coming up the following day, or that we had been mercilessly cut from two Jams in a row. Instead, we basked in our own good fortune and looked forward to using the residual good energy to put on a killer show in Houston.

The local radio stations had been talking about the Jam situation, almost identically to how it had gone down in '81 at the Cotton Bowl. People in Houston were hearing about how Savvy had been cut by the Eagles in '80, and now by REO Speedwagon in '81. The Agora was playing it up in their advertising trying to fill some seats. It worked, and as a result of it all we  had a packed house, and a few special visitors too! 

It was Friday night, July 17th, 1981 -- the night after Savvy had opened for Heart in San Antonio, and the night before the big Texas Jam at the Astrodome that we'd been bumped from. The Houston Agora was filled to capacity and there was an unusual excitement in the air. The band was feeling triumphant and looking forward to rocking the house down. Our first set was hot and the crowd was letting us know they supported us by their extended whistles, cheers, and applause after every song. When our first 45 minute set ended, we all went back to the dressing room to dry off; we were all soaked with sweat. As a special courtesy, the Agora had provided a really great layout of food and drinks for us that night. Then just a few minutes into the break, the Agora security staff brought in a couple of very special visitors. Two members of Heart had dropped by to say hello! 

Howard Leese and Steve Fossen had seen our opening set the previous night in San Antonio and had heard about us getting cut from the Jam. Howard did most of the talking.  He claimed they'd really been impressed with us and hoped that a little jam of our own at the Agora might cheer us up. Leese (Heart's guitarist) reminded me of our laid back friend, Rusty Burns. He didn't have the superego that comes with a lot of people in his position. Fossen had founded Heart and was their bass player. Both were soft-spoken and were exceptionally kind to us. We took an extra long break and enjoyed having a chance to visit with them for a while.

There would be times over the years when we'd have local musician friends visiting in a dressing room when celebrities dropped in. Some kept it together, but there were also some who would immediately turn into obnoxious, stalker-like, time-monopolizing fans that would send the celebrities running for the hills. One thing I could really say for Savvy was that when celebrities were around, we were pretty good at "keeping it real."  Thank goodness that everyone in our band got it, and realized that these folks were seeking refuge in our quarters, and we had to give them their space; let them open up and chat if they want to chat, and leave them alone if they aren't in the mood for it. That philosophy never failed us.

We've also had "celebrities" who were jerks that invaded our dressing rooms in big clubs and literally take over, leaving us more or less feeling like peons in our own domain. But the guys from Heart didn't come all the way over to the Houston Agora that night  to jack with us. Steve and Howard were going out of their ways to try to make us feel better about getting cut from the Jam, and to make sure we understood they had nothing to do with the politics. We REALLY appreciated them stopping by, and as far as I was concerned, they'd more than  made up for the lost gig. But with all that aside it was time to get out there on stage and jam! Steve, the bass player, opted not to sit in, but Howard Leese strapped on a guitar and was ready to rock and roll! 

The lights were down on stage as we took our places. Even thought there hadn't been an announcement about them being there, the word must have leaked out because a cluster of curious fans had gathered at the foot of the stage. People were paying unusually close attention to our bustling in the dark on stage, perhaps trying to get a look at who was coming out. The Agora DJ introduced SAVVY --  without mentioning Howard, but as soon as it was turned over to us, a single spot came on and Ricky stepped up to the mic, into the light, and introduced our special guest. A wild cheer went up, and the guitars seemed to scream right back at the crowd as Ricky and Howard traded licks on the opening of Aerosmith's rock anthem, "Train Kept a Rolling."  We'd been playing it as a closer, and sometimes as an encore song since joining Savvy, so we had a tight arrangement. Howard seemed to be having fun with it too. I was singing lead vocal.

It was one of those nights when everything just seemed to be golden. Having a big-timer like Howard Leese on stage demanded the attention of everyone in the house, whether they were Savvy fans or not. The song allowed Ricky to show his stuff up next to the real deal, and he did a remarkable job. In fact, when I saw guitarist Steve Vai on MTV a few years later, I was reminded of how Ricky looked and sounded when he was really tearing it up like he did that night with Howard. It was a great night! In fact, things had been going just a little too good. That was about to change for me.

"Train" was a long song. Between the 2nd and third verses was a never-ending section that contained solos for all the guitars, keyboards, and even a drum solo. Usually, I would slip off to the dressing room during this part of the song and get a drink, towel off, work a crossword puzzle, read a chapter or two from The Lord of the Rings, or just kick back and take a little break. Even having Howard Leese from Heart sitting in on that song wasn't enough to keep me from following my old habit, only this time I would pay a price for it. A door led directly from the back of the stage out into a narrow, brightly lit hallway. Because the stage was raised higher than the floor, there was a small landing with a couple of steps leading down to the floor of the corridor. As I closed the door behind me, I ignored the steps and attempted to STEP off the 3' high porch. Unfortunately, I led with my right leg -- the one with the bad knee -- and my leg buckled and gave out underneath me!

I fell hard and my head hit the floor with a thud, and my leg popped so loud  I heard it over the music. The pain was more intense than anything I'd ever felt and I couldn't move. So there I was, curled up in a fetal position on the floor of the backstage hallway of the Houston Agora while my band played for a packed house, and a world-famous rock and roll guitarist was sitting in! I usually knew what to expect when the knee got injured, but it had never been hurt like this before. I knew there was a good chance I wouldn't be able to get up off the floor, let alone make it back to the microphone in time to sing the third verse. This was a serious predicament in more ways than one...

I shouted for help, but everyone was out front watching the show. The music only drowned out my shouts anyway. As the fluid in my knee caused swelling, and the overextended cartilage burned like fire, I realized that whatever happened next would be up to me - and me alone. I tried to get a time check in my head to see where they were in the song and judge how much time I had left to figure something out. The guitarists were having a field day and the crowd was eating it up so they went longer than usual, and under my breath I thanked them for it. I rolled onto my back and a tidal wave of pain shot through my entire body. This was going to be much harder than I feared. The leg actually felt broken, as if only muscle held it in place, but I'd experienced that before and knew it wasn't likely broken, but couldn't be completely sure of anything at that moment. 

Oh God! Dan was going into his keyboard solo! I tried to raise up in an attempt to look around in desperation for somebody -- anybody to help me -- but my head was pounding and for a moment I thought I was going to pass out. "SHAKE IT OFF!"   I knew that if I could only get vertical somehow, I'd at least have  a better chance of making it the rest of the way.  In a last ditch move, I accepted that nobody was coming and allowed myself to open up to the fear that had been trying to take over since falling. What would happen if I couldn't make it? How embarrassing would it be for me? Could I allow that to happen? 

I was trying to freak myself out but the adrenaline wasn't coming. I'd hoped to be able to invoke the same power that causes 98 pound weaklings to carry refrigerators out of burning buildings. I thought maybe fear would help me get up off my ass and back out onto that stage. 

Drum solo! Crap! I took a bandana (one of several I was probably wearing that night) and stuffed half of it into my mouth to bite down on. Then I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and forced myself to stand up, even though every force of nature, and my brain, told me to lay back down. But I'd done it! I was up and holding onto the small landing area. My right leg felt like it was dangling like a dishrag, but I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me. It was actually swelling and locking into position, with a slight bend at the knee, the way it had done when I had to limp around Corsicana in a clown costume all day. Hopping hurt, but hobbling was even worse.  I hopped to the door, opened it, and tried to take a step - but quickly found that wasn't going to work. So I hopped out to the mic on one leg, as discreetly as anyone had ever hopped before.  

I guess in the middle of a rock and roll concert, hopping about on one leg isn't all that noticeable.  I was somehow able to finish the song -- and the night.  Nobody was the wiser about my fall until Ricky noticed me "hopping" back to my amp to put my guitar on for the next song as Howard accepted his kudos from the adoring audience. "Oh man, did you hurt your knee again?" Ricky asked as we huddled near the amps, him stealing a quick sip of Perrier through a straw. The Rockin' Reader's Digest version of the accident would have to do at the moment because we had a few more songs to play before we were done. 

After our set, Howard and Steve met us back in the dressing room again to say their goodbyes. I packed my knee in ice from the big cooler as everyone else toweled away the drenching sweat they'd worked up on stage. The knee problem was becoming a common occurrence for me and I was, as Rich Mauch would've put it, "Sick about it!"  A little jealous that I couldn't be huddling up with Howard too, I could only watch as Ricky talked shop with the famous blonde guitar player - the same one who'd played those famous guitar riffs in songs like "Barracuda", "Magic Man", and only recently at the time, "Bebe Le Strange". 

The club was having a banner night and the management was ecstatic. That meant the rounds of shots would keep coming - and coming - and soon I was feeling no pain. The bad news was that I would have to be practically carried to the car that night. The good news was that Howard had personally invited Ricky to be his guest backstage at the Jam the next day, and Ricky invited me along too! Technically, Lou Messina had already invited us all to the Jam, but Howard's invitation to be HIS personal backstage guests at the event took our expectations to a whole new level. At least now we had a real reason to be there, beyond just as a consolation prize. 

The next day I woke up with a splitting headache, but I was in luck that the quick ice pack the previous night had kept the knee from swelling as bad as usual. There was definitely a "hitch" in my "get-along" but not much more than a minor limp. None of the other guys in the band seemed interested in going, so Ricky and I took off alone. We headed to the Agora where we met up with Dee (manager of the Agora), Gary Becker, and someone named Dwana. They had all been invited by Lou as well, so we all went together.  The excitement of just getting to hang out backstage at the Texas Jam inside the Astrodome with some of our favorite bands was keeping my mind off of any physical pain I might have had. We got in without a single snag or hassle and even managed to get a great parking spot inside the VIP area. It was a short "hobble" over to the massive backstage area, which looked like a scene of a futuristic city out of a Mad Max movie. The backstage area was literally built beneath the catacombs formed by the girders of the giant stage. There were trailers  parked around the area, and because we were inside the Astrodome, it seemed gray, like a cloudy overcast day. 

At that point, Ricky and I split off from the rest of the group. They were all meeting other friends at the Jam, so we were free to mingle about and see if we might happen upon our legendary and gracious host, Howard Leese.  There were several dozen big road crates sitting around in stacks, any one of which probably held more sound equipment than we had to our entire name. There were tables and booths set up everywhere with all kinds of catered food and drink. Roadies and sound tekkies were bustling about trying to get things ready to go. It wasn't long before we ran into Howard. There is always a moment of truth in those situations when the famous person will either recognize you and follow through with their offer to hang out, or ignore you all together. I knew by Howard's smile and demeanor when he saw us that he wasn't going to blow us off. Instead, he waved us over to where he was and welcomed us. Big shows like this were a way of life for him; he was the picture of calm. 

We followed him to a large trailer being used as his personal dressing area. Inside was a crate, larger in size than some of the other trailers parked outside. The crate was like a big room sitting in the middle of a bigger room. He reached over and pulled a door open to reveal the most amazing collection of guitars I would ever see. I don't recall if I counted, but there had to be at least twenty guitars on stands sitting in that crate. They'd been strung, tuned, polished, and were all ready to go. 

I laid back and allowed Ricky and Howard to talk serious guitar stuff. I played a little guitar in the band, but as I always say, it was more of a prop than anything else back then. I didn't want to get in their way. It was actually Ricky's moment much more so than mine anyway. So I sat on the couch and ate fruit that I'd collected from a food service table outside until it was time for Howard to get dressed for the show. We thanked him for everything and slipped back out to see who else we might run into on the rock and roll midway.  

After finding a comfortable spot with a panoramic view of the whole backstage area, we recognized the REO Speedwagon guys as they went by. I thought I saw some of the members of Foghat too, but they could've just as well been roadies. As the show was about to start, we found a place near the stage entrance and positioned ourselves there, hoping we'd be able to pass ourselves off as crew, management, or maybe even lesser known band members. It worked. Nobody asked to see our credentials all day.  

Then a funny thing happened. Someone shouted, "Make way! Make way! Band coming through!" As the call was still going out, a group of 7 or 8 very short, Hobbit-like men paraded by us. Some carried guitars and one was rat-a-tatting everything around him with drum sticks. If it hadn't been for their moustaches, tattoos, and adult like voices, I would've thought they were children. But it wasn't. It was Blue Oyster Cult making their way to the stage to play. As they filed by, Ricky and I made eye contact a couple of times as if daring each other to try to keep from laughing. No disrespect to BOC, but we just hadn't known they were such small dudes. There had been something very surreal about it and we'd been caught off guard. But once they were on stage playing their hits, they were definitely looming large and were in charge!

We'd pretty much done what we'd come to do, and that was to hob knob with Howard. Neither of us cared about spending the entire afternoon there, since we had another show to play at the Agora that night ourselves. As we made our way back to the car, the familiar opening riff of Blue Oyster Cult's "The Reaper" echoed in the air. Despite a painful knee incident, it had been a really monumental trip so far. Just two days earlier we'd opened for Heart in our biggest concert to date. The night before, we'd actually jammed WITH, and met Heart's guitar player and bassist. And there we were at the moment, driving out of the VIP area of the Astrodome after being given a personal showing of Howard Leese's guitar collection, in his personal dressing trailer, beneath the stage of the Texas World Music Festival! And we had one more night at the Houston Agora before we headed home. As much as we loved playing the Houston Agora though, we both knew the gig that night would most likely be a little anti-climactic after what we'd been through the past few days. Boy, were we wrong! 

CHAPTER 23: Speedwagon Goes Slumming With Savvy 

SAVVY STORY INDEX

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