Juan Corbett Biz

Malibu Bobby sang his blues.

It was the Winter I was hanging out around the west side of California when I meet Robert (Bob). At one of those typical West Hollywood parties, lots of hot crotch and silicone breasts. These parties have more pretty blonde people in one place than any other place on Earth. In the corner of the game room he is pick'n and grin'n a sweet six string, a handful of folks, half-ass paying attention to his impromptu performance.

I slide in sideways for a closer look see and to hear the boy. Is that Adrien Brody I ask my gal pal. "He gets that all the time, don't mention it, he gets pissed". Ok. I'm a big fan of all kinds of music. I can't play any instrument and am in awe of those that can do it well. Bob played a couple of tunes, then disappeared.

In the next two months there was a party happening every other day at someone's house. A friend of a friend of friend, all were having parties, L.A. to Malibu and back again. During these weeks, months our paths crisscrossed and I became friendly with Robert or Bob, his friends called him Bobby, his stage name was Malibu Bobby.

Shoot-em up Sally.

 A big loud boom, another big boom shakes my tent, jolts me from my slumber, my heart is pounding. A few feet away, again boom–boom, followed by a giggle. I look at my watch its 4:15 AM, who is out there firing off high powered rounds? I'm in no hurry to find out, I'm a snug bug in a sleeping bag with a hang over. I chamber my trusty side arm just in case and roll over for forty more winks.

Just as I'm drifting back into darkness, again boom–boom. "Wakey wakey boys, hands off snakey". Thats a women voice out there! What is a woman doing out here in the middle of nowhere, in a pasture at early thirty,? Its 4 in the freak'n morning. "Y'all get your tired asses-up, the coffees on." I had to bounce out and see who this crazy lady was. What a fun way to start the day.

There she was, sitting in lawn chair with a double barrel shotgun across her lap, a cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. From the small campfire her grin lit up, "you must be Juan Corbett". "Yes-um I am ma'am". "and you must be Sally, the unfortunate lass to have married that hairy legged beast still sacked out in his tent". We are laughing it up when Luke stumbles into the fire to join us. He introduces his new bride, she rises up out of the chair, extending a hand to shake. Wow, what a hand-shake that woman had, I'll never forget it. I've shaken hands with some pretty big boys whose grip wasn't this firm. With a grip like hers, you knew she could hang-on to any thing, for however long she wanted.

Rode a roller-coater in Sweden.

Her name was, or it sounded like "Hi-Lite," or maybe it was the incredible hair coloring she had. Met her after a great roller-coaster ride in Sweden, she was a portrait sketch artist at the park. Drawing only in red pencil on brown paper (a shopping bag), were like none I'd ever seen before. A sexual joviality about her that was hard to resist.

Sure, I have been heckled for admitting to liking some of Abba's songs. So when a Abba reunion concert rumors were growing on the web I became curious. As a disinterested fan of theirs the buzz on the net was renewing my interest in their music. Its been said they are/were, "Sweden's greatest musical gift to the world." A once in a blue moon event was just a rumor, or not — a maybe happening? Reportedly at one of those out of the way places close to the seaport of Gothenburg.

Rodeo run with Buck Del Rio.

One Spring afternoon while wetting hooks in the Rio Grande, Buck got this crazy idea he was gonna rodeo to the North and play all the way back to Texas. Houston to Calgary, Canada. With stops in San Antonio, Cowtown, Oklahoma City, Tulsa, Kansas City, Omaha, Denver, Cheyenne, Billings and some how fit a couple of stops in the Dakotas. How would I like to tag along? Welp, I'm not much of a real cowboy, let alone rodeo material. I can half ass the roping, riding and wrangling at times. Buck was the read deal, saddlle bronc was his specialty. I could help work the chutes as far as Denver, all the free-time I had available. It all sounded so adventuresome and you can bet where ever Buck was there was a good-time around the corner.

Let me tell ya a little bit about Buck. Not sure when or where we meet, not sure where he went. I suspect he is some where South of the border, maybe even South America. Where ever machismo is still acceptable. On numerous occasions he has said America is becoming to serious and sissified. Irish American with a sprinkling of Cheyenne blood, says thats why he is so good with horses.

Not one to talk much about himself, and we know its not polite to ask questions of a personal nature. He was beloved in the community, always ready to lend a hand, a quick shit eat'n grin and a great sense of humor. He couldn't sing worth a damn, but that never stopped him when the mood struck him he would let it out loud and proud. He has butchered more song than a slaughterhouse has beef. Bless the knuckle-head.