We spent two more days in San Francisco before returning to the Pad. Over the next month we continued playing at the Cassandra, heading up to San Francisco once to perform at the Avalon Ballroom, and continued to record our album -- slowly. Life progressed normally . . . if you could consider the number of groupies trying to get backstage each night at the Cassandra increasing "normal."
One Wednesday afternoon in July, we were heading to the store when we found some roadblocks in place. We parked the Monkeemobile a few blocks away and got out to walk. Part way there, Micky spotted a hot dog stand across the street.
"Iím hungry! Anyone else want a hot dog?" he said.
"No," everyone chorused.
"Iíll go with you Micky," Davy said. "Come on." The pair walked across the street and bought three hot dogs. Davy was chatting with a woman who was waiting in line behind Micky when a man ran past and grabbed her purse. She shrieked and Davy ran after the man to stop him. The rest of us tried to run across to help him but suddenly the light changed and traffic surged through the intersection.
"Make us invisible Len," Mike ordered.
I looked around and, seeing no one, nodded. We joined hands and I made us invisible, flying us over the traffic-filled street and down towards where Davy was wrestling with the thief . . . but it was too late.
We were coming down for a landing when the thief pulled out a gun. Davy started to wrestle it away from him, but the gun went off . . . right beside Davyís head. He roared in pain and the thief ran off. Mike, Micky, and Peter ran after him while Isa and I ran over to Davy.
"Oh no," Isa gasped. I looked where she was pointing and saw that Davy was bleeding from his right ear.
We brought him straight to the hospital, the others meeting us there. Ericka arrived minutes after we did and went straight in to examine him. We waited nervously in the waiting room for the verdict.
"Well, the bullet didnít impact him at all. I just grazed his ear -- thereís a little scorch mark by his ear but the bullet never entered his body. But . . . the gun went off right by his ear and it punctured his eardrum, causing fluid to build up behind it and the other ear. Itís rendered him deaf," Ericka told us gently.
"Is there any way to reverse it?" Mike asked.
"Yes. Thankfully. I can operate to drain the fluid. The eardrum I can do nothing about but hopefully it should heal on its own. If not . . . well, there will be no immediate effects but sometime in the far future, his singing voice may deteriorate due to an inability to hear certain frequencies. But for now -- itís just a matter of scheduling the surgery."
"Can I go in to see him?" Mike asked.
"Yes, go ahead."
Davy went home the next morning, after staying overnight for observation. His surgery was scheduled for the 15th of August. The first day home he just moped around, napping for several hours in his room, then going for a walk on the beach. We canceled practice . . . and gigs, for the next few days. MacTavish said to take all the time we needed, once we explained the situation, and scheduled the Blues Brothers to take over our usual gig nights until we were ready to play again.
Last updated 03 DEC 98
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