🧵 Thread

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Time for another story from my days as a musician. This one is much shorter, I promise. It's about when a house literally fall on my head. 🧵 twitter.com/TrezyCodes/status/1564372400426258432?s=20&t=jDfYyLNK8COFT-xoop73mA

Okay, I've mentioned how I had basically no money at any point when I was a musician. That means we really didn't have anywhere to practice, either.

Just a few places we used as practice studios... - my bedroom (sorry dad) - an abandoned house - the barn behind my house (sorry mom) - an abandoned office building - another abandoned house - an abandoned train station - yet another abandoned house

One day we’re practicing at an abandoned house (the 2nd one). We have access because the singer, Liz, her mom was a real estate agent. She’d bought the plot with the intention of bulldozing the deteriorated old 2-story house, but hadn’t gotten around to the bulldozing part.

We had the place to ourselves. We’d practiced there 3 or 4 times already and the acoustics were... serviceable. Plus, we were all weird, moody teens, so we enjoyed the atmosphere.

The first indication that we shouldn’t have stayed there: the bassist, Ogre, had put his foot through a floorboard the first time we were there. We started putting one of the amps over the hole when we came to prevent people from tripping. 🤦🏻‍♂️

We didn’t know it, but this would be our final practice at the house. We got everything set up, goofed around a little bit, and started to jam.

After an hour or so, we took a break. We’d played through our set a couple times and decided to step outside to get some fresh air (it was hella musty in there).

We stepped out onto the porch. Ogre and our guitarist, Derek, had a smoke (🤮) while Liz and I goofed around in the yard.

There I am, minding my own business... then it happened. One of the columns supporting the roof of the porch fell directly on my head. Nobody touched it. Nobody leaned on it. Nobody even breathed in its direction. It just kinda… fell.

I was fine. I’d actually done more damage to the wood than it did to me. As it happened, the wood was so rotted out that it was basically hollow. There was a dent in the wood where it hit my head. I was absolutely shocked, but that’s about it.

We never played at that house again. Liz’s mom finally had the place torn down shortly after and thanked me profusely for not suing them. And that was it. That’s the end of the story.