At some point in our sordid past together, somewhere around 1968, White Mud
Blues Band was introduced to an alter-ego persona which lived in the body of
Vondy (14) Campbell. It eventually would become “The Leach.”
The influence of controlled substances helped to enhance
our imaginations back in the day, and it was this influence combined with the
already twisted collective personality of the band, that was at least partly instrumental in the
development of “The Leach”
Vondy actually created himself as The Leach, then the band nurtured it, fed it, and
made it an icon in the theatre of
activity that White Mud used in those days to manipulate, intimidate, and just
plain irritate people in their reach! In time, all of White Mud got
"Leachy" We grew to love the Leach!
Leaching even became part of a Hazing Ritual for new White Mud indoctrinates,
some of whom never really became official White Mud members, but we had
hours of fun "gang drooling" all over them, and then telling them that
they failed the test and would not become members of our sacred force after
all....
Sometimes the disappointed look on the face of these victims as they woke
from a post-leaching semi coma, wrinkled clothes, and mussed up hair full of
spittim and drool, only to be told that they were not fit to be in White Mud was
satisfying enough for the boys to declare the night a victory! Yeah!
Here's How The Leach Came to Be...
Vondy was 14 years old in 1967. The rest of us were 16 or 17. Vondy was
inclined
to touch a person when he was trying to talk with them, either a hand on the
shoulder or a tug on your shirt sleeve…It was just his way of talking...This didn’t bother most of us, except
for Rudy the Rocket who seemed to totally disdain any physical contact, except
from an occasional woman.
These two members of the original White Mud Blues Band Corporation were the
two most likely to kill each other if locked in an elevator or a phone booth
together, for more than 3 minutes!
These two guys were so diametrically opposed to each other in their concept
of appropriate human physical contact, that when the contact finally happened, the
results were predictably catastrophic!
So, one day…we’re all sitting in the back of The Crows Nest East,
pilfering the potato chips and fountain cola, and having a cigarette while
talking dirty and such... We all smoked Kool Menthol’s back in the day…Kools
went well, behind a smooth pipe of Hashish.
Vondy was out of cigs. It was only natural that he would start hounding one
of us, and eventually, he got around to bugging Rudy the Rocket who was not
about to relieve Vondy from his agony without a little suffering. This was the
way of White Mud you see... If a friend is in need, first... you see how much further pain
you can inflict, before showing mercy…
In fact, if a fellow White Mud alumni was drowning and screaming for a rope,
the rest of us would automatically feign “hard of hearing” until the last
moment before throwing that rope.
Vondy: "Rudy, hey Rudy...lemme borrow a cigarette."
Rudy: "No, get lost Vondy."
Vondy pursued his quest, (one of Rudy’s Kools) and then the "touching"
began.
At first it was just a simple tug on the shirtsleeve, graduating into a
desperate hand clamming tactic on Rudy’s shoulder…This was the undoing.
Rudy jerked back slightly and declared
“Vondy, Get the fuck away from me! You’re just like a
goddamned leach!”
What happened next, was more profound than watching the Frankenstein monster come
to life! Vondy suddenly realized the power he had been gifted with!
He instantly recognized the power he had, in getting one’s attention by touching them
when they didn’t care to be touched.
In seconds, "The Vond’s" mind was racing beyond the power of
simply “getting
attention”
to the
power of actually controlling people by
irritating the hell out of them with his clammy hand touch….thing! The Leach
was alive and breathing! Fucking, RUN!
You could see a glazed look in his eyes as Vondy transformed himself into a
character who was no longer human, but Zombie Like…the eyes no longer looked
directly into his victims eyes, but just slightly above them, somewhere on the
victims forehead.
Vondy's hands were now quite limp, but they pulsated, Quivering weapons of
intimidating "cigarette confiscating power!" The Leach's fingers were now slightly moving into and
out of the palm of each hand, first randomly, them in unison as if there was
some design in this protruded paw assault on humanity! Arms outstretched, and hands now pumping, The
Leach was coming to life!
In a few seconds more, Rudy was now backing into a corner as Vondy pursued his
cigarette from Rudy’s half empty pack of Kools. The newborn Leach
simultaneously added several more facets to his evolving personality.
Vondy had a rather fat lower lip, which looked like a healthy summer Michigan
Night Crawler. We often used these for bait while fishing in Lake Saint Clair, and for this we called him “Worm Lip”
(another of his nicknames) Somehow, He knew this was another potential weapon to
add to his developing arsenal, and within seconds he gently lowered this lip
into a very, very, relaxed state.
His lower (worm) lip and jaw now dropped open,
and permitted him to introduce two new
elements to his persona: drooling (all over himself) and a gentle but gradual
and increasingly irritating “clucking” sound coming from deep in the back of his
throat…
Vondy had the advantage! He was building himself into a monster who could
negotiate (by way of irritation and low level torture) anything he wanted.
The Leach began to move slower. His speech became increasingly slurred. The drool,
the soft clammy hands pulsating, the slurred speech, the heavy breathing and the relentless pursuit
of his victim in spite of any pleading or begging to stop... This all made The Leach one of
the most frightening experiences one could ever have.
Now Rudy was on a fast walk away from the direction of The Leach. The
swearing and flaying of arms on Rudy’s part were of no avail. I think Rudy was
sweating by this time, and he had a look of panic in his eyes!
Vondy was going to get his cigarette!
The rest of us were on the sidelines, totally enjoying this merciless kill in
progress. It was a bull fight! The Toreador (Rudy) was running for his life tossing
cigarettes behind him as he ran screaming…
But now, The Leach wanted more than just a Kool. He had a much bigger fix!
Our hysterical laughing only subsided about the same time we realized that
eventually…We would all be next!
The Virtual Leach Game! This should be in the the Toy
& Games Page, but it seems to fit better here!
What if we invented a game, sort of a sophomoric game where contestants had
to don a pair of stereo headphones and listen to the Leach for a timed
period...and the final winner (based on how long they could tolerate the leach
audio track) would win a trip to say...Florida or Iraq...White Mud's choice...
The losers during the competition, would have to take a shot of bad whiskey,
murky water, or a cup of coffee from the Crows Nest East coffee machine.
Call it "American Asshole!"
Of course, The White Mud Alumni would be the judges! We always win....wanna
play?
- Doctor Hormone
