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More about Troubadour and The Waiting Room
 Excerpts From The Waiting Room
Chapter 10
“When Angel complained about her aches and pains, I remembered the doctor’s comments about her episodes being stress related. Our family doctor was the first of many doctors who simply did not believe that Angel was suffering from a disease.”
Chapter 19
“Diabolical forces had come through the locked door . . . .I had failed to protect my daughter from the worst evils imaginable: a faulty heart and cancer and a profoundly compromised immune system.”
Chapter 31
“ . . . he was built like a greyhound. . . I could easily see him dressed as an Egyptian prince in a flowing thobe with a gutra framing his hawkish face and obsidian eyes.”
Chapter 33
“. . . the only way I could keep from losing my sanity was to pray hard and repeat the whole pray . . fifty times in a row. There was no chance that I could put two words together of my own in an attempt to pray to God.”
Chapter 46
“Why is my daughter shackled?” I asked Tom as I started to pull apart the sticky wrist cuffs.”
Chapter 48
“God, You are asking me to do the one thing that I’ve never done. You are asking me to surrender to Your will. . . . . If I wasn’t the watchdog who protected my daughters, they would have perished. Now You’re asking me to surrender to Your will?”
Chapter 49
“Querido Senor, el pesar de mi corazon es inmenso cuando miro a esta inocente nina, un Angel, que sufre tan considerado dolor. Una vida la espera y si tu pudieras garantizarle tan solo tu amor y Tu merced. Amen.”
Excerpts From TROUBADOUR
 Chapter 2
During the evening, the volume of cigarette smoke and loud, drunken voices became distracting, which caused me to lose some of my concentration. Uncle Charlie stayed in his musical zone and I did my best to play along with him.
Above the noise of the crowd, two female voices were screaming at each other about their mutual boyfriend. Suddenly, the crowd parted as tables, chairs and glass flew through the room and shattered. The enraged women tore at each other’s hair for control of the fight. Finally, a couple of bouncers were brave enough to cuff each woman’s hands behind their backs as I heard sirens approaching the club.
.... After the club closed for the night and we were tearing down our instruments and amps, Uncle Charlie said, “That fight was your initiation into night club work. Drugs and alcohol bring out the worst in people and fights are common every night. If it bothers you, you’re in the wrong business.”
Chapter 10
While I was in Alaska, Linda worked as a packer at one of the local fruit warehouses [in Yakima] and fell in love with the male supervisor. . . . We’d been through thick and thin together for twenty-two years, lost our baby girl and were raising our two beautiful, healthy children. Now our love and efforts had come to an end.
Since I was singing mostly country songs on the weekends, the lyrics about heartbreak and betrayal made me realize that I was singing about my own life. I finished my obligations with my group of musicians and absolutely could not bear to sing for another five years or even listen to the radio.
Chapter 12
On my first airplane ride to Johnston Island in 1988, I didn’t know what to expect. Paradise? Prison? Army training camp? Suddenly, the island peeked over the horizon like a floating lily pad. I looked at the other men to see what their reaction to landing on Gilligan’s Island was. When they looked back at me, I could tell we were thinking the same thing. “What the hell am I doing here?”
Chapter 13
We resembled Pillsbury Dough Boys or astronauts in our full body suits . . If any of the agent got on a team member’s skin or if they breathed agent, they could be severely burned or die.
Chapter 18
In song writing, you have this great inspiration that comes into your mind - this drive, this inner voice - and your inner spirit is what writes the song. It’s very mystical. You can’t force it. It’s got to come naturally. To try to put that dream song into words of explanation so that the other musicians can understand the arrangement in your mind miraculously works sometimes.
Chapter 22
In meditating back on the forty-one years that we had been together and the times that we had been apart, I was so thankful that I was finally able to give [Linda] the few things in life that she wanted: a home of her own, a place for the family to gather and a secure nest for our grandson. [Before her passing,] Linda had the aura of an angel . . . and the tender heart of a little girl.
Chapter 24
Just like a shotgun blast, a series of events came at us that were alarming and required quick action and many prayer sessions to repair the damage. . . I was stunned by this turn of events and could hardly put two words together much less think clearly enough to settle the financial mess. [Suzanne] attacked the problems like a prize fighter, which revealed to me I’d found a true and loyal friend.
Chapter 28
While on my honeymoon with Suzanne in south Louisiana, we two-stepped and waltzed to rollicking Cajun music. . . . My dream was to bring authentic Cajun music to Yakima, the music of my heritage. Since my name means river in French, The Bayou Boys was a natural choice for the name of our band.
Chapter 31
Monday, 10 a.m., October 2, 2006 I had a recording date at Master Trak Enterprises in Crowley, Louisiana.
Mark spoke to me from the sound room: “Larrah, we g’on start out nice and easy wit’ Luzianna Man. Just sing wit’ the beat and watch me for your signal to come in.”
Suzanne’s song, Gator Woman, was the final song. [She] wanted the song played in a minor key including a gypsy fiddle and a voodoo, jungle sound. . . The gypsy-fiddle and heavy percussion would give it a voodoo touch. “Big L” kept that jungle beat going throughout the song and knew just when to pull back and let the vocals take center stage . . The end result was pure magic with lots of spooky overtones.
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