CAT TALES One of the many projects Wyker had
going was his famous “Cat Tails,” stories and memories from his long career in music. As anyone who knew Wyker knows, he could re- ally tell a story. When I was publishing GRITZ Magazine, Cat Tales became a regu- lar feature and got all sorts of rave reviews. Johnny and I had spoken many times about collecting a bunch of his tales and publishing them as a book. Sadly, he never saw that particular dream come to life. As part of our tribute to Johnny, we present one of his tales that ran in my old magazine. Just one of several tales about his dear friend Eddie Hinton. - MBS
and Eddie seemed to get so upset. He said "Even kill the little baby ones too ?" They were the only friends that Eddie had left at that time. He looked so damned sad about it that I never brought the subject up again. Hinton's smell or body odor was unique
unto him, and it was the mixture of various types and proofs and percentages of whiskey
Wyker & Hinton
AN EDDIE HINTON CAT TALE In The long, hot, stinking summer of 1984
Eddie Hinton caught a Greyhound Bus back into my hardware store, Hammer Swingin' Life. This was Hinton at his worst. No nothin' - but a mean and bad attitude and a bad body odor that was a mixture of human sweat built up in layers until their was almost a fine crust on
him...fruit flies had built a few nests in his long unwashed hair, and were continuing to live and breed in his hair right before your very eyes. I said somethang about we needed to get somethang to kill the fruit flies once
(Dick Cooper Photo)
and beer and wine and
tequlia....and gin...did I mention scotch? How about bourbon? PGA? And I don't mean the Golf Tour either. You get the idea. And mix all that with the pun- gent smell of cigar smoke, the sweet stink of a big Tampa Nugget or Sublime mixed with various brands of non filtered cigarettes. Eddie was all about “Old School.” Pabst Blue Ribbon would do, but he preferred Falstaff because that's what his singin' idol Dan Penn drank. And of course the old Baseball player turned radio announcer Dizzy Dean was also a Falstaff fan. But Hinton knew what he wanted on that long hot smelly Summer day in 1984. He
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