runner-up of the OnlineRock writing contest, Chris Roseberry of www.ChrisRoseberry.com
tells a tale of finding a "perfect" rehearsal space.
native West Virginian who refused to work at a factory, I moved to
the fast growing DC area to find work as a laborer. After several
tragic living situations I found myself living in the upstairs bedroom
of a raging drunk who offered me the place at a price I could afford.
The problem was that he would be thrown into a rage whenever he heard
me rehearsing and writing my music. Out of desperation and the need
to sing, I would take my portable stereo to one of the huge construction
sites after work hours, climb into one of the large dumpsters, (the
kind that would be pulled by an 18 wheeler), close the door to a crack,
kick on the stereo, and wail to my "Twisted Sister" tapes
to my hearts content. Several times the police would drive out to
the sites answering complaints that must have sounded crazy. "Yes,
I would like to report someone out in the field near my house who
is screaming like they are being stabbed". When I saw the lights
approaching I would just pull the door closed and wait till they left
then start up again.
This went on for a few weeks and it definitely got me by until I was
in a bad car wreck and was forced to move back home with my parents
to recuperate. Nowadays when I think back about this, I could imagine
steel dumpster must have acted like a huge speaker that projected
the noise into the nearby housing developments with all its wonderful
natural reverb. All I can say is I promise never to do it again, unless
I have to, of course.
Read the Winner's Story in the
OnlineRock Writing Contest