The Real Memphis Mike (don't settle for imitations)

 Well, here's something I haven't bitched about in a while! Our dad was a doctor. A cardiologist to be precise. For years, he was the only game in town within a 50-mile radius, so if you had ticker problems, he was your guy.  When I was about 15, I'd heard about England's National Health Service (NHS). Being a nerd with a need to know, I read up on as much as I could find in the local library about it. Healthcare for EVERYONE. Sounded like a good idea to me. So, I asked dear old dad about it.  He then fed me what I soon learned was insurance company propaganda.  You have to wait months and months to see a doctor! The care is subpar! America has the BEST healthcare ever, better than the rest of the world combined! American healthcare costs are fair! Admittedly, I thought this all sounded like bullshit when I heard it, so I looked for more and more information. Keep in mind, this was the early 1980s, the internet was not a thing yet, and looking for this information me...

 It takes a lot to make me puke. In my youth, the only things that would do it were cooked spinach or mixing weed & cheap booze. Mojo Nixon managed to make me puke.  Was it really almost 30 years ago? Damn. I'm getting long in the tooth. The Rowdy Bovines had done a show with Mojo Nixon over at Graffiti. Always a fun joint, it was a mid-sized showcase venue (for those of yinz too young or too wasted to recall). I loved everything about the place except for the load-in and the cheap beer they always gave the Bovines. Usually Iron City. On rare occasions, Bud Ice (remember ice beers?). I rarely left the gigs feeling less than fine AND dandy . This gig was no exception. Mojo invited us (and a few others) back to his hotel to party. Comfortably in my 20s, I wasn't one to say NO.  He was staying downtown at the Doubletree, which was a much nicer hotel than most musicians stayed at. The place was only a few years old at the time and was pretty fancy, especially by early 90s...