Poverty Rocks! (Rock n' Roll in Outer Space Book 1)

by Douglas Hardee

  "No, nothing against Earth girls, or your excellent moonshine, but that's not why we're here," said Zorbane.

  (So why did these aliens come by my farm? Why me? That question will be answered later in our tale.)

  "Our access to your music cloud will disappear when we enter our planet's atmosphere. We would gladly pay you for DVDs of your music pioneers. We can broadcast them pirate-like from our spacecraft to Zeon and begin the revolt against the Shapers," said Zorbane.

  "We know how much Earthlings like to swap with your mates, so we are prepared to trade you, how would you call it, a stash of a Viagra-like pill that is an advanced super love-making aphrodisiac that will make you, Mr. Jericho, with all due deepest respects, the Superman of love in Earth Mississippi," said Trax.

  "What the hell, let me see this stash," said Jericho.

  Trax pulled out two baggies.

  "Here is another bag for your friendship," said Zorbane.

  Jericho paused, not being one to settle at the first offer, and smiled at the two aliens. "I've already got more action than I can handle. What else you got?"

  "What about your friend Haskell?" said Trax.

  "Hell, he's more of a player than I am, and that's saying something. By the way, how did you know about him?" said Jericho.

  Zorbane looked at Trax. "Well, we have researched much on our Earth database. How about a smart pill that keeps you alert and functioning at a high level for hours and hours?" said Zorbane.

  Jericho shook his ahead. "I've got coffee and Vitamin B-12 for those times," laughed Jericho, removing his red Phillies baseball hat to reveal his prematurely thinning hair that belied his otherwise wiry, athletic body.

  Trax and Zorbane exchanged smiles. These Earthlings have a strange but useful sense of humor, thought Trax.

  "On Zeon we cured baldness years ago. We have the cure pills back at the ship," said Trax, holding his breath.

  Jericho ran his hand through what was left of his hair, despite being only 33 years old. He then turned and walked back inside. "Now those might be useful. I'll be back in a few. You guys chill.” Jericho had had a feeling lately that he was being watched by someone and he was glad it was these aliens and not the feds.

  Trax looked at Zorbane like it was gift opening time on Earth Christmas morning. Trax took off to get the promised pills.

  Jericho returned through the door with a paper bag. He pulled out a few of the CDs. "I'm giving you Muddy, Buddy, Little Richard, Question Mark, Fats, Elvis, Mahalia, Cash, Patsy, and Wanda. That's an even ten," said Jericho. He handed the bag of CDS to Zorbane.

  The alien eagerly took the CDs and studied them like they were the Dead Sea Scrolls or the Magna Carta.

  Jericho smiled and took a sip from his whisky glass.

  Zorbane exchanged glances with Trax and nodded his head. He looked down to study the CDs even more closely. "Why did you select these particular musicians, when there are many who share their genius?”

  Jericho paused and looked down over to his dog, a wry grin forming on his face. "Because the ones I chose form a perfect double helix of rock 'n' roll's genes," said Jericho.

  "Ah, the Double Helix of Earth's Crick and Watson circa 1953 – these discs form the DNA of rock 'n' roll," said Zorbane.

  "But, I will say, there are others who fit the bill, but that's for the future," said Jericho. He looked out at the stars, rubbing his chin. "How did you guys learn to speak English so well? I mean, you're from Zeon or some such planet, right?"

  Zorbane took a deep breath. "Yes sir Jericho, Earth English is our third language among the planet and galaxy. We don't speak it terribly well but neither did the pioneers of your great music, correct Jericho Earth?"

  Before a smiling Jericho could answer an out-of-breath Trax returned with the promised pills.

  Jericho looked into the bag and looked up. "So this is the CURE, huh?”

  Trax and Zorbane nodded simultaneously. "You'll be like cave man, hair-wise, in a month. Like prehistory, you know, before taxes, smart phones and car traffic entered Earth's mental states," said Trax.

  Jericho looked over at Hubie, like he was seeking his approval. He stepped back and began to speak to the two guests as if they were his younger brothers. "Good luck tonight at the clubs and remember, keep your heads down and your mouths shut. Just enjoy the music. Stay in touch, and good luck with your revolution. Adios, guys.”

  Jericho walked to his door, paused and turned around. "Is it really true that you've never been hungry, or seen anyone who was?" he asked.

  "No, we have everything we want from birth," Trax said.

  Jericho shook his head.

  "We want for nothing," Trax said.

  "Except rock 'n' roll," said Zorbane.

  Jericho looked them over one more time, turned and opened his screen door and walked inside. Well, I'll be, he thought. It seems his marine drill instructor was right. Prepare for the unexpected and eventually you'll be right.

  Hubie sat on the porch and watched as the two levitated into the dark toward the dirt road.

  THE NEXT MORNING

  It was a crisp, clean morning as the sunlight filtered onto Jericho's porch. He came through the screen porch, followed by slow moving, slightly arthritic Hubie. His hand held a steaming mug of fresh coffee. He strolled over to the table with his trademark roll that he had perfected on the streets of Philly. War wound be damned, he could still roll with the best. Staring down at his table on the porch, he picked up a letter. He sat down in his chair and began to read, a smile overtaking his morning face. Off in the distance, the Delta sun began to burn off the morning haze.

  "Thank you, Jericho Bright and Haskell Land. We got first time drunk on moonshine.

  Danced with Earthy ladies and played a game called pool. Never did we have so much exciting low-down-dirty fun. Jericho, Haskell gave us the biographical facts on these pilgrim-pioneers which we will share with our planet to further enlighten and engage them into the rousing spirit of Earth Rock 'n' Roll music which may land us in jail like Cash and Merle and others too numerous, but isn't that the whole idea, freedom? Free Birds us."

  Until next time.

  S.P.

  Poverty Rocks!

  Your friendship,

  Zorbane and Trax - From Zeon”

  Chapter Four

  Inaugural Intergalactic Broadcast

  I'm a DJ. I get the party started.

  –Avicii

  FAST FOWARD TO ANOTHER GALAXY – SIX MONTHS HENCE

  Zorbane opened his sound system and checked his broadcast settings for the third time. This was it: his opening salvo in the coming revolution. He had dreamed about this day for months. Now, finally, he would be talking about his new love, Earth rock 'n' roll. The engineers who he and Trax had gone to school with set him up with this system and he would be forever in their debt. It had taken three months of installation, testing, trial and error to finally get the specs just right. And all of this was done strictly under a code of absolute silence. If he wasn't already, Zorbane would be a wanted man, and his comrades had risked a great deal in helping him get set up for broadcast.

  Then, with his fist clenched and raised above his head in a power salute, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

  "People of Zeon, I am embarking on a most exciting, risky venture. I'm going to be broadcasting music that you are unfamiliar with. It's multi groovy tunes from another planet, and I must broadcast at unusual hours so as to stay out of the long arms of the Shapers. You see, this music is forbidden. Taboo. Banned. Outlawed. So, before I begin to play you these Earth-bound songs, by a wide variety of Earthling talents,
let me give you some background, and then, in subsequent future fun broadcasts, I'll tell you about each of these artists individually, how they came to be the dynamo creative forces that they were, and always forever will be. To make the feelings and sounds and bio words have the sock they need to have, and to convey to you properly these artist trials and triumphs, I will be translating Earth words as written by Earthlings. Therefore, I will be speaking a little mangled to you Zeonese because Earth English is not your first or second language but I was fortunate to study their speech in University as a pilot to be. So, forgive my mistakes of which there may be many. Thank you.

  “Once upon a time, in a galaxy closer than we thought, on the planet Earth, which is remarkably just so similar to Zeon, an unusual series of events occurred, which for better or worse, have become wild legends. And these instigator luminaries have gone not just viral, but intergalactic.

  “Let me begin by telling you that the first pioneer collection of intrepid artists we have chosen to introduce you to have one thing in common: they all rose out of dire straits poverty to create great, enduring musical legacies that transcend time and place and galaxies.

  “I will only present the facts of their lives and the conditions in which these musical explorers, and that's what they were, not only preserved, but flourished, against all odds that you can imagine.

  “And by flourish, I mean changed Earth world and hopefully the galaxy.

  “Please know this: I'm not saying that being born into Earth poverty poor enhances creativity. I'm just saying that Earth America's foremost cultural ginormous gift to the universe, in my humblest of opinions at least, didn't spring out of fancy schmancy Park Avenue, Beverly Hills, Philadelphia's Main Line, Chicago's Forrest Park or any other of Earth America's well-heeled districts. Places not unlike where our Shapers live on the cliffs and the big cities in splendorous high-rise luxury. I think the saying is: ‘out of sight out mind.’ So yes, Earth's rich and powerful live much like our Shapers do now.

  “These preternatural musical firebrands of incandescent spirit and talent came from the 'other side of the tracks': whore houses, salons, good-time juke joints, low-down honky tonks, hotter than fire cotton fields, road gangs, alleyways, public housing, church halls. From our Zeonese experience of course, again, these places of artistic inspiration are alien to us. Get it, alien. I'm levity here, after all, its rock 'n' roll and I like it. No love it.

  “They started in the boondocks, so to speak, yet cosmic music flowered from these otherwise bleak conditions. These particular artists, who were also cut from their own mold, you will be introduced to later, and are only a small sample of this explosive army of talent. They came, they played, they sang, and they conquered the Earth as thoroughly as that planet's Alexander the Great, Caesar or Genghis Khan and various other conquerors. Get my Earth drift, right?

  “Again, I learned of Earth history in my learning studies but you know some because it parallels some of Zeon history to bestsellers sure. You all took some small smattering of Earth history in schools as what to avoid doing. Back to Earth music history.

  “This dynamo insurgency blew across planet Earth like an unstoppable cultural hurricane, and we, and the universe, will never be the same once I introduce their glorious sounds to you momentarily.

  “I broadcast to you Earthling music today right now from my space craft, which fortunately is equipped with a pro-sonic force shield that should keep me invisible to the Shapers and their rude cultural enforcers. According to them, the Earth music I'm playing today will pollute the culture of Zeon, and do irretrievable damage to our science-based belief system, which is predicated on the narrative set forth by the Early Shapers, who set up regulations and committees to prevent base, sexual, irrational thoughts and emotions to infiltrate our advanced mode of existence. They know of Earth and have no wish to explore, conquer or come into contact with such primitive, carnal and unmanageable people. So, starting today, I am busting down the sound proof barrier between the Shapers and the rest of us who would like a bit of anarchy and lust sprinkled around this perfectly run, pristine paradise planet."

  Zorbane saluted a photograph sitting on his console of a young Elvis Presley and B.B. King together in Memphis.

  "Kick out the jams, Fers!" said Zorbane with a passion not normally exhibited in fair Zeon.

  "We begin our broadcast with 'Mannish Boy', featuring Earth's Muddy Waters from the 'Last Waltz'. But before I play that classic, first I have biographical writings to share with you, from our intergalactic friend, Jericho Bright, who along with his cohort, Haskell Land, are graduates of USMC. That's short for United States Marine Corps in properly spoken Earth language, which, remember I will translate to best abilities.”

  Zorbane had never felt so sure of his purpose in life as he did now. Playing this incendiary music to his fellow Zeonese, even at great risk, was so thrilling. Maybe it was the danger he had put himself in, and the power and magic of the sounds that made him feel so alive and full of purpose. After all, as a pilot, he thrived on the possibility of danger. It thrilled him. Justice this Earth music.

  Chapter Five

  Sister Planet from another Mother

  A just machine to make big decisions

  Programmed by fellows with compassion and vision

  We'll be clean when their work is done

  We'll be eternally free yes and eternally young

  What a beautiful world this will be

  What a glorious time to be free

  –Donald Fagen – “I.G.Y.”

  To better understand the desire of these two young Turks, Zorbane and Trax, it’s time we took a look at Zeon and its culture, climate and geography.

  Zeon is a planet about half the size of Earth, with a similar climate in certain regions. The average temperature is about the same as Pittsburg, but with a topography similar to Colorado and California's Central Valley in the Mountain Region. There are plenty of mountains and cold forbidding seas, ocean and lakes. So naturally the Zeonese are excellent sailors and their diet consists of lots of fresh seafood and vegetables. The Mountain Region of Zeon, about the size of Florida, but not as warm, is far more temperate and conducive to agriculture. The people of this region are considered to be of lesser intellect and stronger physique. The Mountain People are effectively walled off from the rest of Zeon because of their propensity for overly passionate displays of regional pride and unbridled lust for sex, ritual dancing and some beer that is quite watered down. The historical equivalent would be to describe them as a more artistic and sensual Sparta, and the rest of Zeon as a less artistic, more ascetic Athens. There is but one homogenous race, white, and many of the challenges Earth faces today were solved years ago on Zeon. Heart disease and cancer were cured more than two decades ago. There hasn't been poverty for hundreds of years. Average life expectancy among the Zeonese is 150 years. The average Mountain Region person can expect to live to around 110 years old. They do not have the same access to advanced medical treatments that Zeon proper has. But they do relatively well by supplying the rest of Zeon with skilled and unskilled workers, and when you couple that with their sale of vegetables, fruits and wine to the rest of Zeon, everyone is well-fed, if not overly happy. In short, the Mountain People are the nannies, gardeners, agricultural workers, and soldiers, if ever needed, for the rest of the planet.

  In other words, they do the jobs Zeonese won't do.

  Zeon is governed by an enlightened assembly of technocrats who rationally decide policy and what is best for the country.

  You could call it parliamentary in process, with a very powerful executive branch that ultimately directs the economy and all security and information. The press works hand in hand with the executive for the overall welfare of all. What opposition there was has long been banis
hed in the name of unity, inclusion and rationality. Occasionally a charismatic leader stirs the Mountain People, but a sudden trade embargo from the Zeon homeland Shaper's council quickly squashes that nonsense.

  Picture if you will a place that John Lennon describes in his song 'Imagine', but, with certain parts of the song not implemented.

  Imagine

  Imagine there's no heaven (True – atheism is the official religion of Zeon)

  It's easy if you try

  No hell below us (True – the devil, Lucifer, is not recognized as such. It makes for less interesting songs, movies, and Sunday sermons)

  Above us only sky

  Chapter Six

  The Original 50 Cent

  Muddy taught us to take things in context, to be respectful, and to be serious about our music, as he was. He showed us music is a sacred thing.

  –Levon Helm, drummer and singer with The Band