The Old Rockers Podcast: The Musical Journey of Grendel kicks off with Gregor Brewster and Del Watson reminiscing about their musical past. In this humorous podcast, they share stories from their youth, the impact of rock music, and personal experiences shaped by their upbringing. The episode reveals their contrasting backgrounds and sets the stage for a ten-part exploration of their journey.
The Old Rockers Podcast: The Musical Journey of Grendel
Episode 1– A Feral Summer in Jerusalem
Two seventy-something white males, wearing headphones and speaking into microphones, are seated facing each other on either side of an oblong table. Gregor Brewster is the more patrician of the two, with aquiline features and hair that behaves. He could have been a lawyer, and, in fact, was one and still is, although he went into semi-retirement almost a quarter-century ago when he decided not to make a run for the governorship of Rhode Island.
Wendell, “Del,” Watson is clearly of peasant stock, but in a pleasant way. Slightly shorter than Gregor, a little more bald, he exudes strength and good humor. He’s a wise guy and a provocateur. Despite their differences, the two men are completely comfortable in their intimate banter.
Theme music begins:
“When I was young, my Dad used to say,
‘Son, we’re all going to die one day.
Why don’t you take a little time to do some good along the way …
Take a little time …
(music fades going into chorus.)
Gregor (low voiceover, speaking intimately into a microphone): Welcome to the Old Rockers podcast …
Del (interrupting, much higher energy) … where broken down, grizzled, garage band survivors retell the same old, unglamorous stories of being Beatle wannabees.
Gregor: I’m your host Gregor Brewster …
Del: … And I’m Del Watson. (Together) Together we’re Grendel. Where’s our musical journey going to take us today, Gregor?
Gregor: Ya nevah know. Ya nevah know. That’s actually the phrase that was tumbling around my head last night when I was fooling around on my acoustic Guild, probably on my third glass of wine, and I suddenly … I don’t know why … got sidetracked by that song Lies. Remember it?
Del: Shit, yeah … (sings a capella) Lies, lies, I can’t believe a word you say. We played that in Grendel, didn’t we? What was the name of that group? The Buckinghams?
Gregor: No, no, the Buckinghams were the Kind of a Drag guys. These were The Knickerbockers.
Del: How could I forget The Knickerbockers?
Gregor: A half-century of drinking and taking drugs will do that to you. (Both laugh.) Anyway, I’m not sure why that song popped into my head, but suddenly I wanted to play it, so I pull out my phone and say “Lies by the Knickerbockers,” and ten seconds later I’ve got the chords and lyrics in front of me. A few minutes after that I’m actually watching video of the Knickerbockers playing the original on YouTube.”
Del: You know how many years of my life were wasted playing the same song over and over to get the lyrics right. Lifting up the record arm and rewinding the turntable by hand to listen for the one phrase you couldn’t quite get.
Gregor: How many collective teen-years were wasted try to figure out what Del Shannon was saying in the second line of the chorus of Runaway? “Imma walkin’ in the rain, something-something and I feel the pain.”
Del: “I always said it as “to the ball,” that doesn’t really make sense. Not that rock and roll has to always make sense … what’s that Neil Diamond song where he rhymes “No one there, not even the chair.”
Gregor: Keep focused, friend. If we get sidetracked on dumb lyrics, we’ll be there all night.
Del: For years I thought (sings) ‘Po-etry in motion’ was ‘O-a-tree in notion’ even though it didn’t make sense …
Gregor: Earth to Del, come back to the planet.
Del: (keeps singing) ‘O-a-tree in motion, walking by my side.” So what was Del saying if it wasn’t “to the ball?”
Gregor: For the record, it’s “tears are fallin.” He had to squeeze in an extra syllable. SWITCHING GEARS … however, we have a special show tonight, as we kick off this ten-episode journey on The Musical Journey of Grendel..
Del: Ten fucking episodes! Are we nuts? Or more specifically, are you nuts? Two teenage guys buy guitars, learn a few chords, start a band, make a lot of noise, don’t become famous. End of story! Are each of these episodes going to be about four seconds long?
Gregor: No, no, no. We’re going to tell the whole story which has spanned more than a half-century and witnessed profound changes in cultures, technologies, social, even sexual mores. There may not be any bank robberies, jewel thieves, secret agents, murders, or explosions. No explosive sex, aliens, or plots to destroy the planet …
Del: You’ve lost half our audience already. Do you remember the first time we met?
Gregor: I can’t say that I do. You started at Obediah in sixth grade, right? For listeners, Obediah Brown is a boys prep school in Providence, Rhode Island.
Del: I was fresh from a feral summer in Jerusalem …
Gregor: Whoa! Back up! … This is Episode 1. Listeners have no idea what you are talking about.
Del: My mother’s parents– my Gram and BopBop– had a home, actually a converted summer cottage, on Succotash Road in Jerusalem, Rhode Island.
Gregor: Stop again. I’ve lived in Rhode Island all my life, and I don’t know where Jerusalem is.
Del: Have you been to Galilee?
Gregor: Where the Block Island Ferry comes in? Yes.
Del: If you walk past the ferry to Salty Brine State Beach and you look across what looks to be a river but that is actually an inlet to Point Judith Pond, you’re looking at Jerusalem, and the houses you see are on Succotash Road. My mother dropped me off at my grandparent’s the day after school let out in June and picked me up on Labor Day. I lived all summer barefoot and in a bathing suit and spent the summer with a pack of friends.
Gregor: Did you know Salty Brine had only one leg? But that’s a story for another time. I love that part of the world. It’s all sand and salt water and that tall grass. What’s it called?
Del: Spartina.
Gregor: There are always seagulls squabbling, and bell buoys clanging, and the blast of the ferry horn.
Del: You’ve got it. So you can see why I wouldn’t be too happy about going back to Providence and my mother’s apartment for the first day of school. Especially when it was the first day of a new school with snobby rich kids and having to wear a coat and tie for the first time in life. I remember my mother tightening my tie, and I said I didn’t want to go to school with a bunch of “little dipshits” and she let me get way with swearing.
Gregor: Hey, I was one of those dipshits.
Del: The teacher, Mrs Coffin, just referred to us as “the new boys,” and she called us that all fucking year. She never bothered learning our individual names!
Gregor: Before you get too wound up, let’s take a quick break to mention that support for the Old Rockers podcast comes from Nordic River Cruises where simple luxury is simply unforgettable.
Del: Nordic is where the river never ends. Cruising the great waterways of Europe since 1954, Nordic is coming to the New World of North America with voyages planned for the Columbia and the Mighty Mississipp.
Gregor: A trip down the Mississippi is one I’d like to check off the ol’ bucket list. Before the break, you were in mid-rant about the very first time we met. I was a little dipshit and you were a new boy.
Del: That first morning lasted for an eternity, then a bell rang, and I could feel everyone stiffening in their seats. Then the old crone said, “We’ll start here after lunch. You may go,” and everyone bolted from their seats. I didn’t know what the hell was happening, but I followed the pack. Finally I asked a guy next to me what was going on. “Sports,” he said. In the middle of the day? I’ll take it!
Gregor: Was that in the Old Gym? Tell people what that was like.
Del: The Old Gym was a weathered, brick building that had always had an acoustic backdrop of squeaking sneakers. Hard surfaces everywhere. We clattered down a cement-floor locker room where a dark-hair, heavy-bearded man was seated at a table with a checklist and stacks of gym shorts and tee shirts.
Gregor: That would be Coach Zimino.
Del: Yeah. He blows this incredibly loud whistle and shouts “OK, quiet! Listen up ladies. Today you get your locker assignments, shorts and tee shirts. Tomorrow, bring your sneakers. Today we’ll run in street shoes. Line-up and shut-up!” After a summer at the beach with no rules other than the tides, this was completely disorienting.
Gregor: Coach Zimino was a real piece of work. Calling us “ladies” was his trademark.
Del: We changed and went out to the wooden track. You remember?
Gregor: I do. It was the outdoor banked oval. There were some red flags that marked rotten boards that had to be avoided. They tore it down a few years later, but as a little kid, getting to run on it was beyond cool. That’s where the varsity trained.
Del: We got divided into six teams and ran a relay race, each kid ran a full lap.
Gregor: Coach Z. would switch things around after each race. He’d take the fast guys from the winning teams and put them on the slowest. Nobody wanted Wally Ricci on their team.
Del: Coach blows his whistle and everyone races back to the locker room. Some kids took showers. No way I was going to do that. There was one kid who already had pubic hair! I hadn’t seen that or, frankly, given it much thought.
Gregor: McGowan was the first one to sprout. For some reason his hormones kicked in about a year before everyone elses.
Del: McGowan … he was a big deal in sixth grade. By the time we graduated, however, he was just another nobody.
Gregor: I haven’t thought about McGowan in fifty years.
Del: It was completely disorienting for me … squeaking sneakers, snapping towels, the showers, Coach Z. blowing his whistle and hustling us along. I’m getting dressed and about ready to go back to class when I realize I don’t know how to tie my tie. My mom tied it that morning and I hadn’t paid attention.
Gregor: You were to busy ranting about dipshits.
Del: I panicked, froze. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I pooped my pants in front of the entire class. Meanwhile, the coach is yelling “Hurry up, ladies!” Everyone’s running out the door back to class. And I’m paralyzed. You were the only one to notice.
Gregor: You weren’t the first new boy to have a tie problem.
Del: You took the tie, put it around your neck, tied a four-in-hand knot in about five seconds, loosened it so that you could slip it over your head, and handed it back, saying “You don’t have to untie it.” Then you ran off with the other kids.
Gregor: I have absolutely zero memory of that.
Del: And I remember it as if it were yesterday.
Gregor: Let’s take a quick break. This is the Old Rockers Podcast, the stories and tunes behind the musical journey of Grendel. Del … have you ever been on a cruise?
Del: Yes.
Gregor: Did you like it?
Del: No! I hated every minute of it.
Gregor: Hated it? And why’s that?
Del: The cruise ship nickel and dimed us on everything. They advertised this low price and it turns out that’s for an interior stateroom that is like the Black Hole of Calcutta. There were days when we saw nothing but water. When we did stop at a port it was only for a few hours They served up mediocrity, but lots of it. Ever go to one of those all-you-can-eat midnight buffets?
Gregor (interrupts melodically): I hear you, man. On Nordic River Cruises, every room comes with a view.
Del (continuing rant): You want a glass of wine? That’s extra. You want to check your email? That’s extra …
Gregor: Not on Nordic River Cruises! Every meal comes with complimentary beer and wine, and there’s never a charge for WiFi.
Del: You have to get dressed up for dinner to be seated at a table with bible-thumpers and a schlocky artist whose half-assed paintings just happen to be on sale in the gallery …
Gregor: No art sales, no jewelry sales, no casinos, and no formal “dinners with the captain” on Nordic River Cruises. No endless days at sea, no seasickness, no all-you-can-eat midnight buffets of the most mediocre food ever, just non-stop comfort winding along Europe’s most pictuesque waterways. Simple luxury, simply unforgettable.
Del: You know what? I’m going to try one of those Nordic River Cruises, and you can come with us! Join Gregor and I on a special Old Rockers cruise of the Danube this coming August as we cruise from Budapest to Odessa, joined by the Monkees tribute band The Great Apes. Are we going to join them onstage, Gregor?
Gregor: Call me a Daydream Believer, but there are always a surprises on a Nordic River Cruise. But good surprises.
Del: Just remember to play loud, play fast, and (both) GET THE HELL OFF THE STAGE!
Gregor: We’ve got a very special guest today. So special that we’ve kept it as a surprise for you.
Del: Who is it?
Gregor: You’re going to love this … the perfect guest to kick off our series
Del: Who is it?
Gregor: … someone who really knows the story of Grendel …
Del: Quit teasing me! Who the fuck is it?
Gregor: Your Mom.
Del: Trudy?
Gregor: Coming to us live from Venice Beach, Florida.
Del: (imitating Cary Grant) Trudy! Trudy! Trudy!
Gregor: (singing Hey Jude) Trudy-Trudy, TrudyTrudyTrudyTrudy!
It is a telephone interview, via Zoom. Trudy Blanchard, formerly Watson, appears on a monitor, She wears large sunglasses and a bandana. She is 87 years old, but is trim, alert, and clearly cares about her appearance.
Del (subdued): Hi Mom.
Trudy: Hello, Wendell! How they hangin’?
Del: Trudy, it’s really annoying when you try to appear much younger than you are.
Trudy: You’re as young as you feel.
Gregor: Hi Trudy. I think you’re looking great. What’s happening in Venice Beach these day?
Trudy: It’s just day after shitty day in this boring paradise. I drink my coffee while looking out at the canal where the Great Blue Heron is fishing and the mullet are jumping and the pelicans are flying in formation. At 10 our walking group meets on the beach, and we start looking for shark’s teeth.
Del: What’s the count up to now?
Trudy: Last time I counted it was 823, and I found a few more recently. After lunch we continue the world’s longest running Mah Jong tournament. Then, after a late afternoon break it’s time for cocktails and the early bird dinner. In the evening we watch a lot of old movies. What’s it like in Vermont today?
Del: It’s beyond miserable. There’s something falling from the sky that we call UFC, which stands for Unidentifiable Frozen Crud. It’s somewhere between rain, sleet, and snow, and this is March! We’re supposed to be seeing daffodils.
Trudy: Oh dear. Our daffodils have already gone by. Wouldn’t you rather be poking through the sand, looking for shark’s teeth?
Gregor: Enough of the mindless banter. Trudy, today you are the guest star on the podcast of two legendary old rockers. Let me start off with a question. Why did you let us call you “Trudy” when everything else about life back then seemed so uptight and formal? I couldn’t imagine calling my parents by their first names.
Trudy: As I remember your parents were real rods-up-the-ass people. I guess it’s because I really wanted to be a kid much more than I wanted to be a grown-up. Don’t forget. I was only 17 when I had Wendell, and I had to do a lot of growing up in a very short time. Wendell’s father was never a factor, and my parents helped as much as they could. They didn’t have a lot of extra money, but they were very generous when it came to sharing their house on Succotash Road in Jerusalem. I planted Wendell there every summer, and that provided some continuity and security in his life, something I couldn’t do. For me it was always paycheck to paycheck.
Gregor: How did the job at Obediah Brown come about?
Trudy: Complete happenstance. I was working at a temp agency. My secretarial skills were good and my people skills were good. I came to the school to fill in for a gal on pregnancy leave, and while I was there a full-time opening came up in the alumni affairs and development office. I applied for it and got it. I didn’t even know that free tuition at the school was one of the benefits. But that Obediah Brown was a life changer for Wendell.
Gregor: What got Del started on the guitar?
Trudy: I’m really fuzzy on that one. One year he came back from the beach and could play the guitar. I think he was around 14 or 15.
Del: It was your Dad, BopBop, who got me started. I was 14, and still hanging around with same group of kids, but things had changed. Hormones had kicked in, so guys were more interested in things like bodybuilding, poker, and cars, and cigarettes. Some kids had summer jobs. Plus, they all went to high school together, while I went to this snooty boys’ school, so different relationships had developed. The magic of the Lost Boys was gone.
For the first time ever in the summer, I had a lot of time on my hands. BopBop had a nylon-stringed guitar, and he started teaching me some chords and scales. He also told me that women went wild for guitarists, and that was vaguely of interest. “It worked for Elvis. So, I played the guitar a lot, At the end of the summer he bought me that red Stella guitar. It was used and cost $15.
Gregor: That’s the guitar you had when we first played together.
Trudy: How did you get started, Gregor?
Gregor: It was all my older sister, Debbie. She was 17 and kind of into that bohemian, beatnik thing. Remember Maynard G. Krebs on The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis? She was into folk music, and the Newport Folk Festival was becoming a thing. She had her driver’s license, but my folks were very reluctant to let her go, but they finally agreed on the condition that she bring me along, kind of as an escort, but also as a reminder to be responsible. All day long there were these informal workshops and performances with Delta bluesmen and the up-and-coming young folkies. Pete Seeger was the unofficial king, but Joan Baez was the princess and Bob Dylan her anointed prince. You’d see these performers just wandering the grounds. They weren’t like the pop stars you’d see on Bandstand. They didn’t have slicked back hair and fancy clothes. They looked pretty much like the rest of us.
It didn’t take me long to get hooked. Pretty soon I was pilfering my sister’s record collection and whining about getting a guitar. My parents, being my parents, immediately bought me a Gibson and lined me up with lessons. I hated the teacher, but he showed me a lot of the basics, and it wasn’t hard to learn the folk songs like Michael Row Your Boat Ashore that were becoming popular.
Trudy: All I know is that one day Gregor’s showing up at our apartment with his guitar, which was fine with me.
Gregor: There’s a backstory here.
Del: Yeah, Gregor and I were always friendly, but we weren’t really what you’d call “friends.” He was in all the honors classes, while I was with the mere mortals. Plus, he was a big shot on the football and basketball teams, while I ran track, mostly so that I could hide. The only place we overlapped was on the baseball field.
Gregor: I was a pitcher and Del was the catcher. During a game I got a little wild and walked a few guys. The Coach yells at Del to go out to the mound to calm me down, but he comes out and says “I hear you play the guitar,” I say “Yeah, I fool around some,” and he says “You wanna get together sometime?” and I say, “Yeah.”
Del: And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a pivotable moment in rock and roll history!
Gregor: And let the record show that I struck out the next three batters in a row!
Trudy: All I know is that it didn’t take long for you guys to start sounding pretty good, and I loved you guys being at the apartment. It was joyful noise.
Gregor: That’s lucky, because it didn’t work at all at my house. I had ditched my guitar teacher, because he was pushing me towards jazz. My dad didn’t like the music we were playing, and mom was always asking us to play some schlocky Perry Como song. Before long I just left my guitar at your place.
Trudy: I remember the first time you played in public at the Tete a Tete coffee house.
Del: Do you remember what we wore?
Gregor: Oh gawd … I do.
Del: We wore black turtlenecks … with neckties! And we folded the turtleneck over the tie. We were so cool.
Gregor: Remember what we played?
Del: Not sure that I do, but I guarantee it only used the chords C-Am-F-G.
Gregor: We played a Kingston Trio tune called Take Her Out of Pity. Have you listened to that song lately?
Del: Not for the last 50 years or so.
Gregor: I listened to it on YouTube the other day, and you’d get crucified if you sang a song with lyrics like that today.
Del: Dirty?
Gregor: No, so sexist and patriarchal and exploitive, and about a dozen other things that are now considered offensive. The other thing I notice is that the Kingston Trio claim author credit for what is clearly a traditional tavern song.
Del: Probably still collecting publishing royalties on that bit of thievery.
Gregor: Couldn’t get away with that today. Things change.
Del: Change is the only constant in life.
Trudy: And as you boys wax philosophical, I am reminded that there is beach with sharks’ teeth with my name on it.
Gregor: One more thing, there was a snafu at our high school graduation. Do you remember that?
Trudy: Oh yes …
Gregor: Care to tell us a little more about that.
Trudy: Actually, I wasn’t there.
Del: Unfortunately, I was. Where were you, by the way?
Trudy: I was on a date.
Del: And the date was more important to you than your son’s high school graduation?
Trudy: Truthfully, yes. You seemed to be in a good place–graduating from a good school, in a band, good friends like Gregor, heading off to college in the fall. My life had been a struggle since I was seventeen and became pregnant with you. I worked full-time, had no social life, no support, and pretty soon I wouldn’t even have you.
Del: So where were you, on the date, that is.
Trudy: Lincoln Downs.
Del: The race track?
Gregor: Back to the graduation. Do you remember what happened?
Trudy: Yes, Wendell got his diploma, so he thought, but when he opened it to take a look, it was blank with a note to see the principal. It seems that even though Wendell had a full scholarship, there was an unpaid bill for supplies, sports equipment, field trips, etc. And I had let this slide for a long time. I was always juggling expenses and robbing Peter to pay Paul, and I figured that since I was an employee of the school that this wouldn’t be an issue.
Del: But this time Paul wanted his dough.
Trudy: Yup, but luckily Gregor’s Dad saved the day, by quietly ponying up the money. I always intended to repay it, but by the time I finally could afford it, he said he had already been paid. He not only saved the day for Wendell, but he probably saved my job as well.
Gregor: My dad always liked Del. And he liked you, too, but that’s another story. We’ll let you get back to the beach, Trudy. Thanks for sharing all the memories. (Trudy signs off.)
Del: What’s the ‘other story’?
Gregor: Your mom was a really attractive lady. I think that’s the development office hired her to go out to lunch with these old alums. She’d flirt with them, and pretty soon they’d be breaking out the checkbook. I remember my folks talking about your mom. My mom called her “the tart from the development office.” She was not happy that my dad bailed out your mom.
Del: You don’t want to know what Trudy called her. Hey … Do you remember the one time we almost got into a fight.
Gregor: Fight? No way.
Del: Yeah, you made a comment about my mom having a “great set of knockers.”
Gregor: Well … if it looks like a duck, and walks like a duck and quacks … ?
Del: Yes, she did have a great set of knockers, but I didn’t want to hear it from my best friend.
Gregor: Ok, I won’t talk about her knockers, but she’s still a very attractive lady. Who was the washed up rock star who said “The best thing about getting older is that the young babes look just as good, but the old ones just keep looking better.”
Del: “Amen, brother. Just don’t be talking about my mom’s knockers.
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