Secrets; I Tried To Keep Us Together, You Were Busy Keeping Secrets

Not Fade Away

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The barker didn't elucidate as to how one's life would be forever changed by viewing the birth defects of this poor cow, or if the prescribed change was on par with those occurring over at the Evangelical church tent, but his spiel was working, and all proceeds were going to help fund the Future Farmers of America. Sure, kids wanted to ride the Himalaya and the Tip-Top, the Rock-O-Planes and the Round-Up, and kick off their tennies and bounce in the Moonwalk, and their mothers were mighty keen to take in that Pennsylvania Dutch quilt display, but first they were going to see that incredible two-headed steer for themselves. They say he can read your mind and tell your future!

Word hadn't reached the bass player's band mates yet. They had no idea they'd be without their Joe B. Mauldin that evening or how his absence onstage would affect the performance. The drummer, their Jerry Allison, was still in his underwear back at the motel masturbating to The Young and the Restless on a TV chained to the wall, and the lead guitarist, playing the part of Niki Sullivan, was in town scouring antique shops for new additions to his hand carved pipe collection.

Kirby Huckabee, following in the footsteps of his rock and roll idol, got dressed in a cinderblock storage facility behind the amphitheater, donning that smart black suit coat and tie, patting back his curly, dark-dyed hair and polishing the lenses in the trademark black frame eyeglasses to create the haunting illusion of the legendary Buddy Holly. Kirby's own hair hadn't been any color but gray for the last ten years, and the glasses were more than simply cosmetic. But he could sing 'Peggy Sue' is a long summer-in-Lubbock drawl that'd shame a legion of Elvis impersonators. My Peggy Sue-a-ew-ew. Kirby picked up a steel drip pan from beneath a rusting water heater and checked the image in the reflection. He sang,You say you're gonna leave -- you know it's a lie 'cause that'll be the day-ay-ay when I die and strolled out onto the fairgrounds with his black Stratocaster over his shoulder. Buddy Holly's back, baby. Just walking the grounds of the O'Farrell County Fair. No extra charge, Miss Talent Coordinator. 'Cause I love you gal -- yes, I love you Peggy Sue. Hey, how you doing there? Good to see you. Don't miss the big show this evening. Eight o'clock down at the amphitheater. The Buddy Holly Experience starring me, Buddy Holly. All of my love - all of my kissin', you don't know what you've been a-missin', oh boy!

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It didn't yet bother Kirby Huckabee that this backwater county fair was the best engagement he could book for his tribute band. Or that this was their first gig since February. And that show had been a disaster. Two nights at a hotel bar in St. Joseph booked to accommodate the overflow from an insurance adjusters convention that was canceled last minute. All of my love, all of my kissin', booked in St. Joe with no one to listen, oh boy! They played to a drunk couple arguing over how to handle their wayward teenager and some rowdy guys heading home from a Jayhawks victory in Lawrence. They said, 'Play some Skynyrd!' and laughed their drunken heads off. One of the guys called Kirby Elvis Costello. Damn, that was a bad show. But ever since Big Chet Mayne at MayneStage Productions dropped the Buddy Holly Experience from its talent roster of wedding harpists, birthday clowns, cafeteria mentalists, celebrity look-alikes and tribute acts, Kirby had found it increasingly more difficult to secure gigs for the band. Ten years ago they played every weekend. All over the Midwest. Conventions in St. Louis, Chicago, Kansas City. Notable wedding receptions in Wichita, Lincoln, Columbus, Ohio. A managers meeting for the Arby's chain. Christmas parties in Minneapolis and Tulsa and Omaha. July 4th celebrations. Gigs were plentiful. Paying gigs. Buddy Holly Lives! See It To Believe It! Two weeks at a breakfast show in Branson. A couple hundred seniors every morning. A fully stocked waffle bar and a bunch of old people smiling and clapping off rhythm. Oh boy!