This Old Clotheshorse has been moderating the Keeper of the Boneyard's Forums. Here is the latest dialogue:
Tom Waits is probably the most underrated songwriter & musician of my lifetime. He’s one of the most wonderful there is. I, uh, thought his wife was from Illinois? (And a different song) Or maybe that’s a different wife. Or she moved, who knows. Tom Waits is a jersey girl? Well there you see the perils of rewriting the last half of a paragraph without looking at the first half. G’night folks! Tom Waits is an over rated pianist or should I say penis! Leon Redbone. I play with the current bass player for Tom Waits. Waits is an interesting guy. Bless you Tom. Tom Waits has more talent in one finger than everybody else on the current Billboard Hot 100…have you ever seen him in concert, this guy makes the hair on my neck stand up…I have every CD he’s ever made. To me he’s up there with Dylan…He should run for president with maybe Paris Hilton as his vice president…they’d make a lovely pair..Personally, I agree w. everyone here that Waits is a national treasure. Closest I ever got to him was sharing a baggage carousel for a NY/LA flight that got in around 3AM LA time. I thought that was appropriate considering he’s the king of the night owls.
My Gravelly Voice
There's no one really in show business in my family but there were two relatives who had an effect on me very young and shaped me in some way. They were Uncle Vernon and Uncle Robert. I always hated the sound of my voice when I was a kid. I always wanted to sound more like my Uncle Vernon, who had a raspy, gravelly voice. Everything Uncle Vernon said sounded important, and you always got it the first time because you wouldn't dare ask him to repeat it.Eventually, I learned that Uncle Vernon had had a throat operation as a kid and the doctors had left behind a small pair of scissors and gauze when they closed him up. Years later at Christmas dinner, Uncle Vernon started to choke while trying to dislodge an errant string bean, and he coughed up the gauze and the scissors. That's how Uncle Vernon got his voice, and that's how I got mine
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"On Sundays, we'd always visit Uncle Robert, who was the organist at a methodist church in La Verne, California. Uncle Robert had a pipe organ in his house that went right through the roof. When he would play he would smear all the notes together like hot melted crayons and the whole house would shake.I remember his house was a complete mess; his clothes were everywhere, his bed was never made. "Now this is show business," I thought to myself. I asked my mom why I couldn't keep my room like Uncle Robert's, and she said, "Tom, your Uncle Robert is blind."
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