I just remembered an interesting thing that happened to me during the recording of the Smokestack Trilogy album at the Harefield Hospital.

Most of our recording sessions went well into the early mornings...we would really get going around 10 or 11 pm, and we usually didn't stop until 4 am or so...the early morning was best because:

the night guards would look charmingly befuddled upon discovering us stomping a gigantic bottle-cap covered boot in the auditorium at 3 am

the helicopter pad outside was less likely to be in use

the birds would start singing around 4, adding nice texture to the vocals (see "Mississippi Bound")

at the end of these sessions we would crawl into our cozy beds made out of chairs (it took 8 chairs to make a comfy bed, there were 3 of us, and there were only 21 chairs...)

In any event, after one such night we woke up around 11 or so and noticed that it was a beautiful day outside. Instead of getting right back to work we decided to go outside and get some sun. We were lying in the grass for a while, and I suppose I fell asleep.

Right after taking this photo, Michael and Cory apparently decided to abandon me.

I was gently woken up about 30 minutes later...
"hey, hey mate, you okay? hello there? you all right?"
"mffffgrrrrrzzzzzwhat?"
"you all right there, mate?"
"huh? what?!" I sat up really quickly and looked for my companions. "Where are my friends? My brother? They were just here! I'm not alone! where are they? they left!"
The guy looked at me like I was crazy. I probably looked crazy, with my hair that I hadn't cut for four months, a shaggy untrimmed beard, the wild eyes of a man in the midst of recording session, and my wild rantings about "friends" and "my brother" who were around here somewhere I swear!
"oh...okay..." He gave me a weird look. "We thought maybe you were a patient in the hospital and you'd gotten lost..."

I decided it was time to get back to work. I stumbled off to find the groanbox boys.