by Rollie Tom
A three-week break followed the completion of the album. Tour rehearsals with the backup band wouldn’t be starting up until the first week in September. Josh flew to Colorado on the first flight out. Gabriel opted to stay in L.A. to do some hobnobbing amongst the teeming rabble of semi-celebrities and movie star wannabes, of which there was never a dearth. To him it seemed like every other person in southern California had migrated there from somewhere else, and they all claimed to be merely biding their time as they waited for the big break to happen in their career that was lurking just around the corner. There were rock stars’ parties, actors’ parties, record executives’ parties and rich kids’ parties where the alcohol flowed freely and a variety of illicit drugs were always available.
There was at least one soiree going down somewhere in the metropolis every night and Gabriel quickly gained a reputation as a regular.
Although they were called “parties” they were more like exclusive gatherings of effete posers and snobs than anything else. There was never any organization to the festivities and one did not necessarily have to personally know the host or hostess. If one knew that the party was on, where it was and how to get there one could consider themselves invited.
Gabriel and his pals would walk in the front door around ten or eleven and each individual in the gang would immediately scan the room to see if there was anyone in attendance that they knew. They would shout out a few hellos and what’s happenings to their acquaintances and locate the bar before commencing some serious mingling.
Gabriel, with his outgoing personality, felt right at home in this environment. Once he had a drink in his hand he would deftly drift from one conversation to another. In each small grouping he’d be introduced to one or more of the other people and identified as a genuine person-of-importance. The cardinal rule was never to talk to anyone for more than fifteen minutes at a time.
“Oh, so you’re Gabe Brewer. I’m very close friends with one of your manager’s wife’s best friends.”
“Gabe, I’ve got some songs that would be perfect for you guys to record.”
“I’m negotiating for a three album deal with Paramount but I’m not sure they’ll meet my uncompromising demands. I have my integrity to protect, you know.”
“Hey, man. Stop by the bedroom in the back. Randy’s got some dynamite blow.”
“I just adore your songs, Gabe. Your voice makes me so horny!”
“I was just telling Chris the other day about the group I just signed. They’re going to be the biggest thing since the Beatles. They’re called ‘The Pups.’ Remember that name. They’ll be huge.”
“Hey, dude. Take one of these blue pills later. I’m not sure what they’re called but they’ll sure lay your ass out when you’re ready to crash.”
“Sandra told me that you and Danielle were spotted together over at Don’s party two nights ago. I though you were tight with Mary these days.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Better yet, you call me.”
This self-serving circus would go on for hours and hours without anything of significance being uttered or accomplished but Gabriel found verbally manipulating the people he interacted with at these events to be an entertaining challenge. All he had to do was play the game correctly, meaning he had to make sure everyone he talked to came away thinking he cared about what they said. There was a different girl for the taking every night but they were all the same to Gabriel. Just a soft place to land. He’d made up his mind that there would never be another Amy so why should he bother trying to find one? He’d also decided that he would never let anyone get that far inside his heart again. Never. Once was enough.
Rehearsals had been going smoothly. The collection of musicians that were hired to back them up on the tour was superb, of even better caliber than they’d hoped they’d be able to assemble. Chris and the suits at Globe Records were antsy to release the record. They collectively felt it would be a mega seller and they were letting the whole industry know it by plastering the duo’s faces across a large billboard on Sunset Boulevard with the release date printed underneath. Josh and Gabriel felt confident about the album’s chances and were eager to see what their fans would think of Third Time’s the Charm.
On this particular night the practice session had run very late. It was just after one in the morning and Josh and Gabriel sat on the front edge of the stage. Everyone else had left with the exception of a roadie and a sound technician who were busy tidying up. Situated in the middle of Hollywood, the rehearsal hall was a vast, cavernous building and their voices echoed when they spoke.
“Josh, do you ever stop and marvel over all the incredible things that have happened to us? I mean, are we lucky or what? I constantly find myself failing to comprehend it all. Think about it. Our last album went gold and is still selling, we had two singles break into the top ten, we have thousands of fans across the country and now we’re about to knock ‘em off their feet with another terrific LP. I mean, sometimes it feels like I’m living a dream and I get scared that I’m going to wake up.”
“It is all a bit surreal at times.”
“I remember seeing John, Paul, George and Ringo on Ed Sullivan when I was a snot-nosed kid barely into my teens and thinking ‘that’s what I want to do.’ And now I’m getting to do it. Can it get any better than that?”
“It could, actually. If the album’s as marketable as Chris thinks it’ll be we’re going to end up playing the largest arenas in America.”
“Aw, hell, that’s what he said last time. Never forget that he’s our manager and it’s his job to think big. The jury’s still out. His opinion isn’t nearly as important as the public’s, even though he’d probably disagree.”
Josh chuckled. “Yeah, but he may be right on the money this time. It really is a great record so we have every right to be optimistic. By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. How long do you think we’ll have to go out on lengthy tours like the one coming up?”
Gabriel stood and lit a cigarette. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. How long will we have to regularly disrupt our lives and go traipsing all over the country? Face it, as fulfilling as the business of making music is, this part of it is like stepping onto a merry-go-round that’s gone berserk. It’s fun for a while but after you go spinning around and around for months on end you end up dizzy and sick. It gets to be too much sometimes. What I’m saying is I think we’re at our best in the studio and I’d like to spend more time there.”
“I’m not following your thought process, man.”
“Think about it from this angle, then. I guess the years have changed me some. I’m not getting any younger. I used to love to do concerts more than anything else but this traveling carnival act we have to be a part of has worn me down year after year, bit by bit. I wish we could concentrate solely on being creative, separated from all the distractions that touring brings into our core function, which is making exceptional music. It’s an exciting life, for sure, but it’s also counterproductive to our ultimate goal.”
Gabriel started to pace in front of Josh. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you?” he said.
Josh shrugged. “In a way. I’m just thinking out loud, mostly. Consider this. You mentioned being inspired by The Beatles. Well, they quit playing live shows altogether and sold more albums than ever before. More recently Steely Dan did the same thing and look how they’re doing these days. Maybe those guys were onto something. Maybe they came to the conclusion that doing an endless string of live concerts wasn’t helping their music evolve and grow. All I’m saying, man, is that maybe we won’t always have to subject ourselves to the rigors of the road.”
Gabriel stubbed out his cigarette and shook his head in silence.
“You got something to say about any of that?” Josh asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do! I think your idea stinks to high heaven. You’ve overlooked something kinda important. Me! I’ve matured and grown to the point where I love to perform in front of an audience. I live for it. I love being free and constantly on the move. And I really love being outside of claustrophobic studios and hollow caverns like this one! I had no idea that making our fans happy had become such a burden for you to bear!”
Josh held up his hands defensively. “Whoa. Whoa there, Trigger. Wait a minute. Don’t overreact. I told you I was just thinking out loud. I had no intention of trying to start an argument. I still love a lot of things about this life, too. It’s taken both of us farther that we ever imagined it could have. I didn’t say we had to stop playing shows now or next year or whenever. I was just tossing an idea out there.”
“Maybe so, but you need to get this straight in your head. I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop performing. What else is there for me? I have no home to go to. No Tenni waiting for me. Amy’s the only woman I ever cared anything about and she’s gone forever. I don’t own some piece of property out there somewhere to settle down on and, frankly, I don’t want to. I’m having the time of my life and I plan to stick with this circus, as you like to refer to it, as long as I possibly can. I see no reason to ever quit.”
“Gee whiz, Gabe. Settle down. You’re spazzin’ out over this. All I was trying to say was that someday, down the line, we might want to slow down our pace and try to live normal lives.”
“Normal? What the hell is normal to you? Sitting in front of the boob tube with Tenni, surrounded by a flock of drooling rug rats? Not for me, buddy, not for me. I know you’re in love right now but I can’t help that. This is a partnership and you can’t always have everything your way. You’re just being a selfish...”
Gabriel suddenly realized that his voice had been getting louder and louder. He stopped himself cold. There was an uneasy silence for a few moments.
Josh sighed. “Oh, dear. Our very first fight. Does this mean the honeymoon’s over?”
Gabriel snickered and walked over to lean against the front of the stage next to where Josh sat.
“I reckon so. You know any reputable marriage counselors?”
“This is so stupid. I’m tired and I’m spouting off the top of my head about things that are far, far down the road. Years away. You’re right to get upset over my childish projections into the future. No one but God Almighty knows what’s going to happen even tomorrow and he ain’t talking. What I do know is that we’ve got the world spinning on a string right now and I have no doubt that we’re about to blow a lot of minds with this new record. We’ve really outdone ourselves this time and now we’re wisely preparing to take full advantage of the situation when the public responds to what we’ve done.”
“You’re damn right about that. Sorry I freaked out, Josh. I think we need to get the hell out of this empty airplane hangar for a night and go tie one on together. We haven’t partied down, just you and me, in a long, long time.”
“Normally I would veto the very notion of getting involved in such an unproductive endeavor but, in this instance, Gabe, I have to agree with you. You’ve got yourself a deal. Let’s take tomorrow night off, hit a few of the L.A. hot spots and have us some fun taking in our competition.”
Third Time’s the Charm was released on schedule and the tour began in Sacramento on October 5th. The overall sound and presentation of Josh and Gabe packed a lot more punch and excitement this time around. They were able to headline in many of the smaller cities on the tour and in the larger ones they often shared top billing with some of the biggest acts in music.
Chris’ hard work and persistence was paying off at last. He landed them feature stories in every local newspaper and music magazine he could, set up interviews on scores of FM radio stations and coerced extensive advertising dollars out of Globe in order to publicize the album on hundreds of billboards across the country. The record began to take off. They were getting more and more airplay. Ticket sales soared. The planets were in alignment.
The road wasn’t as bumpy or chaotic this time, either. Josh, Gabriel and their band stayed in decent hotels instead of musty, depressing motels. They often flew instead of having to ride uncomfortably for hours on end on a grungy bus. And they were afforded a lot more respect from the sound and lighting crews they worked with.
After touring through the West, the deep South and Midwestern states for two months they arrived in New York for their concert at Madison Square Garden. Chris flew in to give them what he termed earth-shaking news and to see first hand how things were going. He treated them to lunch at one of the finest restaurants in Manhattan.
“Waiter! Waiter!” Chris shouted, conspicuously waving his hand in the air.
“Yes, sir?” the waiter said, hurrying to their table.
“Bring us the best bottle of champagne you have in stock. And I mean the best, no matter the price!”
“Right away, sir.”
“You mean you’re finally going to clue us in on the little secret that you’ve been dying to tell us for the last half hour?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes, as soon as he gets back with the bubbly.”
“Can’t you give us a hint? We’re not children, Chris,” Josh said, a tad peeved over having to wait.
“No hints. I’ve waited my whole career for this occasion and I want to have something special to toast it with.”
They traded small talk for a few minutes until the waiter returned with a silver bucket full of ice and containing a dark green bottle. He carefully uncorked it for Chris.
“Our finest vintage, sir. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Would you like to taste it first?”
“Nope. I’ll take your word for it. Just leave it here and go away. Shoo!”
Chris poured a glass for each of them and motioned for a toast.
“Here’s to Third Time’s the Charm, the number one album in the United States,” he said loudly.
They clinked their glasses together. Chris drained his but Josh and Gabriel only sat and stared at him, stunned.
“I beg your pardon,” Josh said.
“I didn’t stutter, my boys. The album made it to the top. Just got the advance word yesterday morning. When the new issue of Billboard comes out tomorrow your record will be number one. And that’s not all. The single, ‘Soldiers of Fortune,’ will be sitting pretty in the number three slot with a bullet. Next week it will most likely be number one, as well. Congratulations.”
“But the LP wasn’t even in the top ten last week. You mean it’s selling that fast? That’s unbelievable!” Josh said.
“Believe it, my good man. It’s a combination of airplay, publicity and concerts that’ve made it take off like a rocket. Not to mention my exquisite management skills. And don’t forget that the usually hyper-critical Rolling Stone magazine dubbed it one of the best records in five years. Half a decade! That didn’t hurt at all. Face it, you guys, you’re the hottest thing in the land.”
Gabriel still hadn’t moved or said a thing. He just sat there, staring at Chris with the full glass of champagne still in his hand. Chris smiled at him.
“Well, Gabe? Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Gabriel suddenly emerged from his temporary spell of psychological paralysis. “I just gotta say YAHOO!!!” he screamed, causing a nervous quiet to spread across the stately room. He began to bang his fists on the table and yell “We’re number one, we’re number one” over and over.
Chris and Josh just laughed while the other people in the crowded, upscale restaurant stared at the unruly trio. The mortified head waiter started towards them with his finger over his lips but Josh waved him back as he tried to grab Gabriel’s pounding fists.
“Down, boy, down! You’re going to get us tossed out of here!” he said.
Gabriel reluctantly ceased his chanting and noise-making, got up and grabbed Josh in a bear hug.
“We did it, man! We did it!”
“And it couldn’t have happened at a better time than three weeks before Christmas,” Chris added. We’re going to make a mint!”
Josh reached across the table and shook Chris’ hand.
“Thank you, Chris. We owe it all to you. You’re the greatest. Now, try and see if you can keep Gabe under control. I’m going to find a phone and call Tenni.
She’s going to flip her wig!”
Josh left the table and Gabriel turned to Chris. “The same goes for me, man. Thank you for believing in us.”
“You’re quite welcome but save your thanks for the Grammys. What you two may not realize is that this is when the work really starts. I want the LP to stay at number one for a while. Just getting it there isn’t enough. We’ve got to push it even harder now. But today we celebrate! I’ll be at the concert tonight and I expect to see you two kick this town on its ass.”
“Don’t worry, Chris. When the band hears this news they’ll be as excited as we are. You’ll get to witness one hell of a show tonight, I guarantee.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Chris said, scooting his chair back from the table and rising. “I’ll be right back.”
Chris headed towards the restroom. Gabriel then turned to the window next to their table and raised his glass of champagne to the New York skyline.
“Here’s to you, Amy. If you could only see this disillusioned dreamer now!” he whispered. “Too bad, darlin’. You gave up on me way too soon.”
After years of struggle, Josh and Gabriel had risen to the pinnacle of their profession. When it happens, it happens fast. They became intimately acquainted with the intense, unique euphoria that runaway success brings. As is its nature, it’s a long time coming and quick to fade but in that moment, day, week or however long its visit one feels a joyous sense of invincibility that is unrivaled.
The album sold at a spectacular pace, staying at number one for the rest of December and throughout most of January. At one point it dipped to number two but then regained the top spot the following week and held it well into February. Three singles became top five hits within the span of three months. “Soldiers of Fortune” reached number one in December, “Shoulda Seen It Coming” peaked at number four in January and “Maybe We Could” climbed to number two in February. Third Time’s the Charm garnered eleven Grammy nominations in an array of categories. After a ten-day break for Christmas the tour resumed and this time they no longer had to share top billing with other acts. They sold out major venues in New England, Canada, all through the Southwest and Northwest, and even in Alaska and Hawaii. In February Chris sent them overseas for a two week stint in Europe. By now the album was selling well on the other side of the Atlantic.
Gabriel loved it all. He was a bonafide star. He was the life of the concert hall. He generated infectious energy onstage and became the focus of the show while Josh, whenever he wasn’t singing, stood back from the spotlight’s glare to concern himself with the musical end of things. Girls screamed when Gabriel danced along the front of the stage and teased them. Groupies would pay any price that a roadie required in order to get backstage with Gabriel. He always had his pick of one or more of them to take back to his hotel room. At some point in the pre-dawn hours he would call a cab and make the ladies leave so he could sleep alone.
There were times when he would get mildly impatient with Josh, feeling that he was having to do all the sweaty work at the front of the stage while Josh took it easy and moseyed about in the background. The fact that they had to be around each other constantly on the tour took its toll, as well. Gabriel made fun of Josh’s devotion to Tenni, calling him a panty waste and saying things like “Yeah, I was a sucker in love once upon a time, too.” These verbal jabs didn’t make for a better atmosphere but Josh never lost his temper. He always chose to ignore Gabriel’s rude, sarcastic remarks and chalked them up as outbursts of jealousy.
To Josh their amazing success was a mixed blessing. He was as astonished and grateful for their fortune as Gabriel was but he resented the invasion of privacy that followed. It seemed as if he never had a moment to himself anymore. He had a sincere appreciation for all of their supporters but the constant attention and commotion swirling around him was just too much at times. He had always tried to live an orderly life but found it increasingly impossible to maintain one now that he’d been promoted to the major leagues.
Tenni was his saving grace. His lifeline to sanity. The sound of her voice would soothe his shattered nerves and he tried to talk to her on the phone as often as humanly possible. Despite the unpredictable scheduling they’d been able to be with each other at least once a month for over a year. After the tour began Tenni would often fly to a city somewhere along the route and hang out with him for days at a time. In turn, he would jet to Vail whenever they had a three or four day break.
Josh was determined to prevent what had happened between Gabriel and Amy from happening to Tenni and him. He sent her flowers, clever telegrams, clothes and jewelry. He wrote songs and poems just for her. And on Valentine’s Day he gave her a sparkling diamond engagement ring which she gladly accepted. He’d waited his whole life to meet her and he wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers. They discussed plans for a springtime wedding after the current tour ended but made no definite date. They also agreed to keep it a secret, knowing that Gabriel would ridicule their relationship even more if he knew.
The Grammy Awards show was held in late February. Josh and Gabriel had just played a concert in Liverpool, England two nights before. Many jet-lagged hours later they landed at LAX where Chris met them with a limousine.
“This is it, boys. The whole shootin’ match. I expect to have a gleaming collection of little trophies lined up on my mantle tomorrow morning. Then I’m going to call Charles Waters, Bob Miller, Steve Boren and all the rest of those uppity sons of bitches and invite them over for coffee. I’ll show them who’s the greatest manager in town. Take that, you suckers!” Chris gestured forcefully at no one in particular as they drove along the highway through El Segundo.
“Just get me to a soft bed so I can sleep for a couple of hours. I can’t face the cameras with a heavy dose of jet lag layered on top of a hangover,” Gabriel groaned with his eyes shut.
“Chris, make sure that someone’s at the airport at five sharp to meet Tenni’s flight. It’s number 207 out of Denver on Delta. I don’t want her to have to take a funky old cab like last time,” Josh said.
“Don’t fret, Josh. You just get some rest and I’ll take care of picking up Tenni on time. Everything is going to be perfect. Tomorrow the whole world will know what you guys have known for years,” Chris said.
“Which is…?” Josh and Gabriel said in unison.
“That Christopher Jackson can make superstars out of even the most mediocre of talent!” he laughed.
Josh thundered out a loud Bronx cheer and Gabriel threw a handful of peanuts at their manager. Chris looked down from the heralded duo to glance at his gold Rolex watch. Only eight hours remained until the presentation. Then it would be his turn to shine. His turn to gloat. His turn to revel in the moment of glory.
The ceremony was a typical Hollywood extravaganza. There were huge keg lights streaking across the sky above and TV cameras and reporters lined the red-carpeted entrance to the Shrine Auditorium, covering every moment of the arrival of the luminaries.
A refreshed Josh and Gabriel showed up in style. Josh beaming with the star-struck Tenni hanging on to his arm and Gabriel strutting proudly beside the provocatively-dressed Annie Wilson, a popular prime-time television sitcom starlet that Chris had arranged for him to be seen with. The smiling duo sported tuxedoes accessorized with matching canes and top hats. The crowd that had gathered around the entrance of the auditorium roared with approval as they waved and blew kisses to their fans.
Inside the atmosphere was suspenseful. A victory here could translate into millions in record sales and concert ticket purchases. A disappointing loss could derail the gravy train. But this night belonged to Josh and Gabriel. They won six Grammys. The first was for “Soldiers of Fortune,” the song of the year. They hugged each other and Gabriel made a short statement of acceptance.
“There are so many people to thank at this time. But I don’t want to be up here all night so I’ll just thank our manager, Chris Jackson; our producer, John Spencer; my mom and dad who are the most understanding and forgiving people on the planet; and all of our fans who stood behind us all the way here!”
He paused for a moment. “And, finally, I have to give a nod to a lady named Amy for breaking my heart. You gave me something to write about. Thank you all,” Gabriel said, triumphantly holding the statuette over his head.
Josh stepped to the microphone. “Thank you,” was all he wanted to say.
Later came the awards for best engineering, best production, best group vocal and best record. Finally Josh made a short speech.
“To borrow a line from ‘Soldiers of Fortune,’ our journey here most certainly involved a lot of ‘all night, no day, hard work, low pay’ in order to get to this point. But receiving so many honors from our peers this evening has made it all worthwhile. I don’t know what else to say but I feel like I’ve got to acknowledge a few folks no matter what. Thank you mom and dad, Chris Jackson, John Spencer, our band and road crew, all the folks at Globe Records, to B.W. back in Phoenix for letting Gabe off work so he could go to that audition at the pub with me, and to you, Tenni, for your extraordinary love and patience. Thank you.”
At the climax of the show Third Time’s the Charm took the prestigious album of the year trophy and John and Gabriel brought their whole entourage up on stage with them to accept it. Chris held the award high over his head in victory for all the world to see. Tomorrow morning Josh and Gabriel would be headline material from coast to coast. They’d made it all the way to the very acme of their profession and no one would ever forget them. What had started out as an impromptu jam session in a head shop between strangers had now become one of the most famous duos in the history of music.
After dutifully showing up at Globe’s splashy gala following the ceremony, Chris hosted a private party at his Malibu home with only the closest of his associates in attendance. By four in the morning almost everyone had left. Josh, Tenni, Gabriel, Chris and his wife Deborah sat out on his redwood deck that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.
“So this is how it feels to be king!” Gabriel said with drink in hand, a cigar in the other and his feet propped up on the railing. “It feels real good.”
“I don’t see how you can feel anything after a party like this one. I can’t tell if I’m on land or sea. My nips are lumb!” Chris said.
“Well, if ever there was a good reason to celebrate, this is it,” Josh said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so fortunate in all my life. It’s hard to believe that we just won six of the highest honors a musician or songwriter can receive.”
“Don’t be so modest. I knew you were special the first time I laid eyes on you. Scraggly beard and all! I’m very, very proud of both of you,” Tenni said, kissing Josh on the cheek.
“No one could be prouder than me,” Chris said. “We’re all sitting on a gold mine right now. From this moment on we call all the shots. We’re in the driver’s seat. No more begging for favors from conceited know-it-alls. Now I know what a wildcatter feels like when he strikes oil.”
“Yeah. Rich!” Gabriel exclaimed. Everyone laughed.
It had been a very eventful, exhausting evening that had turned into a drawn out morning for them all. Josh looked at his watch and yawned.
“Well, it’s getting ridiculously close to daylight but, before we call it a night, I have an announcement to make,” Josh said, winking at Tenni. “Tenni and I are getting married.”
There was a collective “Ahh…”
“What a wonderful surprise,” Chris said, shaking Josh’s hand and hugging Tenni.
Deborah ran over and hugged Tenni first, then Josh. Gabriel pretended to faint in his chair. He finally rose and walked over to Josh.
“Congratulations. You’re a lucky man. But I still have no idea what she sees in you.”
“What are you talking about? I’m a big star!”
“Yeah, but she’s still much too pretty for you,” Gabriel replied, hugging Tenni, then Josh. He looked back at Tenni and shook his head slowly. “Honey, I hope you have better luck at training Josh than I have. I guess you already know that he’s still not fully housebroken.” He then lowered his voice slightly as if conveying a secret to her. “He frequently makes puddles.”
“Stop it, Gabe. She might change her mind,” Josh said.
“I’ll never change my mind about you,” Tenni cooed, returning to his side and giving him another peck on the cheek.
Everyone had another drink in order to toast the bride and groom to be. Then Josh and Tenni instructed their limo driver take them to the house in Palos Verdes. Chris and Dorothy retired to their bedroom while Gabriel stayed up to see the sunrise.
He was all alone with his thoughts. He went to the wet bar, poured another glass of whiskey and went back out onto the deck.
“Here I stand. Six Grammys with my name on them. All the money and fame I’ll ever want in a lifetime and then some is headed my way and yet I feel incredibly sad and alone,” he thought to himself as he leaned on the railing. “I wonder if Amy was watching last night. I hope she was. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I did but she was supposed to be here by my side. Does she ever miss me? Any regrets? Or am I just someone who passed through her life on her way to wherever she is now? How can I ever hope to fall in love like that again? Now Josh has the love of his life with him and he’s the happy-go-lucky one. He’s got what I had once upon a time with Amy. Why couldn’t it have worked out for me that way? Why must I live without her? Why? Why? Why?”
On the biggest night of his life Gabriel cried tears of anguish.
(Hear the music of Josh and Gabe on the album "Two Old Friends" by Davis-Anderson Project at Amazon, ITunes, etc.)