on Phish

Brad Wilson lied to his girlfriend about the veraciousness of his nightly reading. This is according to one Amy Oberhelman. Amy, given her status as Brad’s aforementioned girlfriend and present wife, was a reliable witness. She’s also from Indiana.

It was just a playful moment over drinks. I don’t remember the bar’s name but the lighting was great. We may or may not have been cramped around some oddly small side table-type thing covered in cocktails, sitting on a mish-mosh of chairs of different heights. That’s kind of how I remember it. There was good music, but it didn’t hamper conversation which is exactly the decibel level every restaurant needs to put a piece of masking tape next to. Amy was charmingly holding court. Speaking - with great recollection - about how Brad (allegedly) gave her the impression that he turned into an early 2000s version of Wordsworth when the clock striketh seven every night. Brad defended his (alleged) ruse with a well-timed one-liner or two and eventually someone else took the floor.

It’s really a forgettable story. Just one of those things that randomly comes up and it happens to be that couples’ time to take center stage for two minutes during the evening event. But, we like stories where we can identify with a flawed, yet likable protagonist which is what we all essentially are. So, when I think of Brad Wilson, this little vignette is one of the first things that comes to mind.

The other is the Disco Biscuits.

In the late 90s, the Gamma Xi chapter of Kappa Sigma threw a 40-keg rager in a random field miles away from bucolic Denison University. Brad was the late-night founder, tireless promotor, treasurer, logistics manager and security director of this risk management nightmare. The Disco Biscuits were the band that jammed, noodled and set a collective contingent — of which I was included - into absolute orbit.

And, while I don’t keep in as good of touch with my friend these days I did text him a screen-grab of my car radio sometime during the heart of the pandemic while I was waiting at a light after dropping one of my girls off at soccer. The Disco Biscuits were on. Brad called me minutes later.

It was good to catch up. Again, nothing really remarkable to report. But, I mainly enjoy these random connections we have every 2-3 years because at some point near the end of the call someone inevitably says So, what’ve you been listening to these days?

Then, sometime over the course of the next few days you’ll be in a car rushing to or from work-school-practice-grocery-wherever and you’ll remember that there’s an album your buddy says you should check out.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to a ton of Phish lately. And, Phish drummer Jon Fishman hosts a show called “The Errant Path” that is the most incredible musical curation I’ve ever heard. That alone is worth the Sirius subscription.