u/CapGrundle

I posted yesterday about waiting outside the bus and talking to (or at, more accurately) him after shows, and my brother just reminded me of this other oddity as well.

In 1996 brother was living in Michigan and I went out to visit. I intersected the visit with three Bob shows, of course. Brother is also a big fan, and we went to Ann Arbor, Kalamazoo, and Lansing on consecutive nights.

Near end of show, he and the band used to come to front of stage and just stand still there for a bit while everyone cheered. They’d strike different poses sometimes and I’m sure others here remember.

We’d always have made our way to the very front by then as things were quite loose. Anyway, he was wearing white cowboy hat and started shooting at us with “guns” made from index fingers and thumbs. Others and us shot back and he and we were acting like we were ducking behind something, or peeking around to get off another round. He was six feet from us doing this and it went on for like 30 seconds or more.

My brother thinks it happened all three nights but I’m not sure, though I definitely saw it again at least once at later dates, maybe NY or PA. This was around the time people were going up on stage and dancing too, and it was all a pretty playful atmosphere. Just wondering if others remember the six-shooters era.

Especially as he’s in his twilight, it’s fun recalling these memory snippets of interaction.

From ‘94 to ‘99 I saw Bob dozens and dozens of times between New Jersey and Maine. I lived in MA and covered nine states as an engineer for a packaging company. Traveled at least 40 weeks a year with company car and I’d schedule customer visits to intersect his shows. It was a great gig.

Almost always I’d go alone to see him. Had alot of time on my hands so got to know the band’s whole travel routine, how it all went down, who did what and when, etc.

I developed a routine wherein I’d stay outside the theater until his bus arrived and scout out where it was parked, in relation to what exit door etc. Usually the bus didn’t pull up until just minutes before they went on stage. Other times Bob might arrive incognito in a van or car with security man Barron and the bus would arrive later during the show. Those times I’d be outside waiting for the bus, hear them come on stage, and have to run inside.

I’d exit the show a few minutes before end of last song and go out to the bus. Like clockwork, within 20 seconds of the last note played, the door would open and here comes Bob. His head would be draped with a white towel, and he’d be sweating or just splashed his face with water. He’d be looking straight down, led by flashlight by Barron or bus driver. Sometimes I was the only one out there, other times there were a handful of people.

He’d pass within a foot or two and I’d offer personalized encouragement like, “That was a terrific Shelter from the Storm! You guys were on fire!”, or whatever. He pretty much ignored me, but one night they played Joey and I complimented the performance. He looked up, we caught eyes and he flashed a grin. Another time I said something off the cuff, for the life of me I can’t remember what, and he looked up and gave a little laugh. A few other times there was small reaction but I could’ve been overly interpreting too.

For a while I assumed a name, an unusual one so he’d remember it, and I’d say something like, “Hey Bob, it’s ‘name’ again. I see you guys are heading for wherever, should stop at ‘restaurant’ overlooking the river blah blah blah.” Complimented him on performing for pope, as well as random awards and things. He definitely got to know the name I used cuz I used it about ten times in a particular month, though shortly after I abandoned it.

I was never over the top or loud. Only normal voice volume was needed cuz he was right there. Tried not to say the typical fan stuff, never asked for autograph or got in the way. Some nights I just said something like, “what a memorable night! Thanks much! Drive safe!” If there were more than a few people hanging out there, I’d just skip the whole thing and wait for a more private night. Anyway, that happened and I like to think about it now and then. Wish I’d written some notes at the time cuz there’s so many little details and things I’ve forgotten.

My father has ten forks from fork trucks in his barn. They’re old, 50-60 years, so I doubt they’d fit any trucks from these days.

I know nothing about scrap. They weigh about 160 pounds each. What might I expect to get for the lot? If it’s an insignificant amount I’ll call a scrapper to come pick them up for free, otherwise I’ll load them in pickup and scrap them myself. Thanks.