Over the past few months, I've gotten a number of emails at the RockRoom asking if I was any kin to this yokel (see the pic on the left).
Yep, it's the (infamous, crazy, weird) Unknown Hinson -- a guy who puts the "sic" in "music".
Actually, we're not related at all (his real name is Stuart Daniel Baker).
His gimmick is his looks -- all put on (have you ever known a Hinson to look that weird?don'tanswerthat,please) The dude is quite a performer, though, and does some killer rockabilly. Plays a lot of small venues ... a little too strong for Top 40 or mainstream, though (geez ... have ya heard him??).
Another question I'm constantly asked is if I'm kin to The Hinsons gospel group. Mebbe -- I'm not exactly religious in the normal term (I have my beliefs and faith; let it go at that), but these folks are talented! And I understand they're great folks around their fans, too!
But the Relic stands on his own. I was (according to some. Well, maybe a handful. Okay ... two, then) a nearly-famous local rocker (that word, "fame", sticks in my craw. That and a buck will getcha any size coffee you want at McDonald's), decent DJ, and now overworked writer. Unless someone comes up with another one of us, that's it!
Only one Pineville-NC-bred Chuck Hinson with those creds ... but the best credential of all is that I carry my father's name. And that, my friends, is worth more to me than all the accolades I could ever have otherwise!
THE "NAME GAME" CAN BE TRICKY: A few decades ago, when I was still living in Charlotte, my buddy John got me hooked up with a part-time job. Now, dishwashing wasn't my top choice as a second income but, when you've got more "outgoing" than "incoming", you've gotta beef up the account somewhere. And there was an older lady who manned the old Hobart™ machine in the shift before mine.
I went to introduce myself to her as I arrived for my first day. The conversation went something like this:
"Hi! I'm Chuck Hinson. I'll be washing dishes on the next shift."
"I leave here early!""Well, ma'am, that's fine! I can start now and you can go ahead and clock out, I guess"
Thinking that she might not have heard me, I introed myself again ... only to get:
"I LEAVE HERE EARLY!! Cant'cha HEAR ME??"|
"Yes, ma'am. And it's a real pleasure to know you! So I guess you can go now!"
She looked at me in disgust, threw her dishtowel down, stomped over to the time clock and punched out.(rather that thing than me ...)
As she left the clock, she looked back at me and yelled, "I LEAVE HERE EARLY!"I yelled back, "AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR TIME OFF!"She cut me a look that, had it hit the dish machine, would've cut it in two ... and then turned and stomped off.
Still wanting to know her name, I sneaked over and checked her card. It said ...
"OLIVIA EARLY ..."
The woman just had an accent. And I ended up with Grade A Jumbo (eggs, that is ...) on my face ...
More later. Stay tuned ...