According to Paul - Chapter One

In the early months of 1980 I worked at Windy City Pizza parlor that was then located in Belmont, California. On a daily basis a local transit bus would stop at the stop, just outside the entrance to the establishment. Down the bus stairs and out of the swinging bus doors would bound the driver, a well tailored driver wearing perfectly creased slacks, a pressed work shirt and an appropriate neck tie, complete with clip.

From the neck down he was what Ralph Kramden would have looked like if he was in perfect health. From the neck up was another story. John Morrison had blazing red shoulder length hair and matching bushy mustache which verged on being a handle bar. He wore wrap around sunglasses which were so dark you would have to guess at the color of his eyes. If memory serves there was some sort of beaded necklace.

On our very first encounter John was all smiles and warmth, a characteristic which he carries with him to this very day. After a brief introduction John informed me that the owner and he had come to an understanding regarding his need for occasional re-hydration during the course of his work day.

As I recall it our first conversation went something like this:

Paul: "Hi!"
John: "Hi! Can I get a glass of water?"
Paul: "Sure."

(Paul gets a glass of water and hands it to John. John leans the glass back and drains it in one long swallow and hands the empty glass back to Paul)

John: "Thanks, My name is John. I'll be in here a couple of times a day seeing as it gets pretty hot out in that bus."
Paul: "Cool, My name is Paul. Nice to meet you."
John: "Yeah, nice to meet you. Bye."
Paul: "See Ya."

With that John bounds out the door, up the stairs of his bus, into the seat and disappears in a cloud of blue smoke.

That was my introduction to John Morrison just over 25 Years ago. I bring up John first because he was the last link in what has now become known as;

WITHOUT MIRRORS

In the months just prior to this chance meeting two long time friends, Steve Sullivan and Jeff Duchmann had made the decision to form a band. Steve and Jeff had worked musically for some time and had a rather successful local band named "MSD" (Music, Sex, Donuts);

At the time I had almost no musical experience and absolutely no performance experience but they wanted to keep there next project on a much more of a friendship level so it was decided that I would pick up the bass playing duties and learn as we went along.

Flash back to Windy City Pizza a few weeks after Paul and John are first introduced to each other.

Local transit bus screeches to a halt. The driver bounds down the steps and in through the doors of the pizza parlor and the following conversation take place which is destined to change history FOREVER;

John: "Hey Paul, what's up?"
Paul: "Not much, you?"
John: "Not much, a little tired. I was up late playing music with some friends."
Paul: "Oh yeah, what do you play?"
John: "I'm a drummer."
Paul: "Cool! My buddies and I are puttng a band together and are looking for a drummer. Would you be interested in getting together to jam?"
John: "Sure, sounds good, but I got to run. I'll get your number later. See ya."
Paul: "Alright, see ya later."

With that John slams his glass of water on the counter, runs out the door, onto his bus, and is gone in a flash.

Yes, it is true. This may seem anticlimactic and lack compelling drama. But once again I remind you of the historical implications and the ripple effect on current world affairs, that this event was in fact the flashpoint which brought about the nucleus which is now;

WITHOUT MIRRORS


A Brief History of WITHOUT MIRRORS
Chapter Two According to Paul

I can't even be sure which year I started first grade without really doing the whole counting backwards from high school thing but I would guess it was more then likely 1964 although I do recall a dream I had where it turned out the Beatles were close family friends and I was allowed to bring them to SHOW AND TELL in kindergarten so it must of been 1965,....... yes, 1965.

I also can't seem to recall any teacher names but it seems that as I went through school the teachers I had were always leaving the profession at the end of the year I was in there tutorage, Hmmm?

First grade is where I made my longest life long friend and it happened right in the first week or so. I know this because my oldest friend is Jeffery Duchmann and his birthday in September.

I know this because the very first conversation I had with Jeff was in regards to his birthday. Our school had two kindergarten classes and Jeff had been in the other one so we really didn't know each other in those first few weeks of first grade but that was soon to change. Our teacher, whose name escapes me, was telling the class one morning that Jeff's birthday was the very first in the class and that we should all wish him a Happy Birthday, If we sang I don't recall, but I do recall our first conversation going something like this:

(The teacher, Mrs. Whatsserface has just made the announcement about Jeff birthday. I raise my hand and the teacher calls on me.)

Paul: "What type of cake are you having at your party?" Jeff: "Chocolate." Paul: "Chocolate!!!!!!, I love chocolate cake! Can I come to your party?" Jeff: "No!!"

There you have it, our first conversation, short and sweet. How we became such close friends after that first encounter I really don't have any recollection but within a few months we where pretty much inseparable.

Every day after school I would walk home from school with Jeff and seeing it as Jeff's house was at the top of the hill and we would get first there I would more often then not be able to get some sort of snack from Jeff's mom or grandmother before I stated out for the additional snacks I could muster when I got home.

The one thing I remember about Jeff's house that always impressed me was that just to the right of were you entered the living room there was a great big organ and that Jeff could actually play the damn thing. I liked to just sit there and make all sorts of weird noises on it but even at that early age, Jeff was already able to make music. I always thought that was so cool.

I suspect that that might have been the spark that brought the magic of music to my attention.

Every school day morning I'd start my walk to school by heading up Roxbury Lane, the street I grew up on, over one street to Tarrytown, Jeff's street, and up the hill to his house. I always remember thinking it was unfair that I had to huff it all the way up this steep hill, stop and get Jeff and we would go one more house and we'd be at the top of the hill. Man, was I getting screwed or what!!!

Some where in the early part of second grade I started my daily grumpy journey up the hill to get Jeff and when I got to his house I was met at the door by his mother who told me Jeff was sick and wouldn't be coming to school that day. The next day was the same story.

The next day I was told that Jeff was in the hospital. After that I didn't see Jeff, My very best friend, for a very, very long time. To tell you the truth I'm not sure how long Jeff was in the hospital but to a boy of 7 or 8 years

It seemed like forever. I didn't know what was wrong with Jeff and if I recall correctly for awhile neither did the doctors who were treating him. I do remember that I knew he was very ill and there was a chance he could die and that I wasn't allowed to go see him in the hospital.

I don't recall if we were allowed to talk on the phone, I think we did once or twice but I can't be sure. After what seemed like years but must of been several months I was told that Jeff was going to be brought up to my house for a short visit, that he was very weak and he wouldn't be able to run aroundand would need to stay very calm.

When he arrived to my house I remember him needing to be helped inside and he looked very pale. Everything about him was so slow, like an old man in a boy's body.

After being at the house for just a short time Jeff asked his mom if we could go up to the school and hang out. I remember his mother being a little concerned about this idea but after some thought she said we could if we promised to just sit on the grass and talk.

Our mothers drove us up the hill and I helped Jeff up to the grass field and we just sat there and talked like adults would. I remember thinking we should be running around, being crazy, throwing rocks, playing games but we sat there and talked like we were adults.

I don't know if this is the way Jeff remembers this but to me that day Jeff and I developed a bond that can never be broken. After that it took some time and Jeff recovered and we continued our friendship and life went on.

I really don't know why but Jeff and I have never really sat down and talked about this, but recently when it comes to my mind it always makes me cry.

I'm crying now.

A Brief History of Without Mirrors - According to Paul
Chapter 3: Sven and the Big Apparatus

I always hated high school. I was really excited about getting out of middle school and getting to high school but pretty much from my first day, my first walk from the school bus to my locker it was decided, in my head, that I didn't like this place.

Subsequently I didn't spend much time there. There are tons of stories I could tell you about what happened when I should have been there and perhaps some of them will come to light in future chapters but for now let's just say I always hated high school. By the mid point of my sophomore year I think the teachers and administrators were getting a little tired of me too. Once again I'm sure there are some stories that could come if we followed this line but that should be saved for a later date. Lastly I don't think my parents were too enthralled about the amount of dialogue which came about between them and school administrators which was directly related to my complete and utter loathing for high school. I always hated high school.

So right in the middle of my sophomore year it was decided by all parties mutually that I should leave the school and I could finish my studies at the local adult night school. Yes, these were the good days. I started working full time as a busboy at a local restaurant and going to school at night. This was much more to my liking.

It was just about this time that I became aware that there were alternate ways of viewing the world around me and that many of my peers were investigating these alternatives as well and not one to be left behind I to began to experiment right along with the vast majority of the people which made up my social circle.

It was at this time and place, just outside the back loading dock at the restaurant that I was employed, that I made the acquaintance to a person to whom I am eternally grateful for not only being a lifelong friend from almost that very moment forward, but to whom I owe a life time of gratitude for his help in shaping me to a point were I feel comfortable calling myself a musician, and for this I will never be able to thank him enough.

This meeting came about partly because of the new way in which we viewed the world. I had a friend named Peter (we'll get to Peter later, I promise you) that was still going to the high school to which I so loathed and he had been telling me about this new kid who was falling in with the folks that made up our social circle.

Peter had called me at work to see what time I would be getting off because he wanted to introduce us to each other. In a related twist, in addition to the wages I got from my job I found that I could occasionally supplement my income by working with the wears that were directly responsible for the new way in which I viewed the world.

So at the end of my shift I exited the restaurant and saw my buddy Peter standing by his parents old beat up Baron Le Sabre or some damn thing and with him was this kid.

Two things struck me immediately:
1. He looked just like Dennis Wilson (the drummer from the Beach Boys, complete with the striped surfer shirt) 2. He had a full on four O'clock shadow. THIS GUY COULD BUY BEER!

The following is an excerpt of the first conversation between me and Steve (Sven) Sullivan:

Paul walks up to Peter trying to put on an air of importance.
Paul: "Hey Pete what's up?"
Peter: "This is a friend of mine from school. Steve this is Paul."
Steve:"Hey."
Peter: "Steve is a little interested about what we talked about on the phone, is that a problem?"
Paul: "Nah, Let me show you what I got."

With that they all walk over to Paul's old Plymouth sports fury, opens the trunk and then opens a wrinkled old shopping bag and they all stare into it.

Paul: "Three fingers, ten bucks."
Steve: "Wow, can I pick the one I want?"
Paul: "Sure, why not."
With that Steve rummages around inside the bag for a few minutes and then quickly stuffs something into his pocket and hands Paul a ten dollar bill.

Paul: "So, what are you two doing with the rest of the afternoon?"
Steve: "No plans, really." Paul: "Well you know what, I just happen to have a ten dollar bill in my pocket. What do you say we go and get some beer?" With a heartfelt agreement all around, the three pile into Paul's car and start down the road to the nearest market.

As they pull away Paul pushes his 8 track of "Magical Mystery Tour" into the player and the music blares out of the speakers. Above the din this little snippet of conversation could just barely be made out as the car rapidly disappears down the road:

Steve: "You like the Beatles??!!!"
Paul: "OOOOOOhh YYYYYeahhhhhhh."
Steve: "You ever hear of a band called King Crimson? There is this guy at school who.............................................."

The History of Without Mirrors - According to Steve
From Peter to Paul

'Peter Kirchner, the guy I met in Mr. Harney's Business Math class the prior year - my freshman year, had somehow learned that I had obtained the Business Math "teacher's book" with all the answers to Mr. Harney's cleaver little (and not so little) quizzes. Over time a friendship developed between several offers of some kind of deal for Peter to borrow the coveted book.......

This same Peter drove me to a place called "Rubin's" parking lot high upon the CSM Drive hill in our native San Mateo for another kind of deal, a deal involving a guy who worked high on the hill.

As we continued up the hill, into the parking lot, just at the crest, the place of food worship appeared under the oncoming marine layer of the Pacific, something I've never seen before, something blue, with deep craters appeared, parked in front.

Peter pulled his mother's car up along the side this blue, dented monster and said: "I'll go get him...".

I, being a very naive little kid who had just 10 bucks to my name & pockets, just waited outside in the wind chill.

Emerging from the majestic palace was a lean, black haired fellow with glasses who walked with a real jest for life (and money).

With a stiff, cold wind in my face, my ears heard Peter's words: "this is Paul."

Steve: "Hi..."
Paul: "Hi..." While opening the trunk of this blue war time veteran machine...

With the trunk opened, Paul turned to me and said the most obvious thing one could ever say under the situation: "which one do you want?"

I observed a green ocean of 3 to 4 fingers.... while fishing one up I learned something... This guy knows something I want to know.

After 3 generations and countless sets of guitar strings... I'm still learning from him' --- Next: "From Peter to Paul to Jeff to The Images of Change"

The History of Without Mirrors - According to John Prelude

"It was Windy City Pizza and Belmont Urban Service plus Bank of America or Hewlett Packard coincidentally throwing all original members together for an experimental ride into the land of; Without Mirrors

From the SF Peninsula rock, jazz, blues and folk meltdown with the band Vancouver played the popular venues 1980-1983.

Then, exploded into further incarnations and individual pursuits over the ensuing decades until Steve, Paul and John's collective unconscious came together again, demanding compositions reflecting the passion and changing 21st century we all are leaving artistic marks upon.

This is a reunion of faith and expression like those cyber jams of old where the transport is the trip, and the messenger is the message.

Follow the titles and we'll take you home. There will be more. Music is the greater vehicle."