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How much can one fan of OKOM (Our Kind Of Music) accomplish in just a couple of years? Plenty, if it's Rockzilla, aka photographer Michael Johnson. From 2003 to 2005, was a chronicle of the scene from a uniquely Texan perspective. But all good things must end, and Rockzilla has retired from the online 'zine scene.

This mirror site was copied from the site with the express permission of Rockzilla hisself. If you don't believe me, go to the KHYI-Fans email list and ask him! Buddy will back me up, too.

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Yet Another Mindless Thought
By David Miller

Lay-offs. Some are good and some are bad. Like the time I worked for that Internet company that was sold. That was a bad one. Or the time I worked for that record store. That, too, was a bad one. So was the computer company (twice), and the software company. All bad.

However, this little lay-off between columns has been good for me. I've had time to reflect on the state of things, do some soul searching, and to really get to know the inner me. Want to know what I have found? Of course ,you do. Otherwise, you would have already punched out. Settle in with a Colorado Kool-Aid (sorry, I guess the ghost of Johnny Paycheck is hanging around) or some other beverage of choice, and let's get right down to it.

First things all the soldiers currently and formerly engaged in making the world a better place, thanks. We wouldn't be here without you.

I have spent a lot of time recently listening to a gentleman by the name of Chris Wall. Originally from Montana, but as he sings, "I'd rather be a fence post in Texas than the king of Tennessee," Chris garnered (underground) fame and (a very small) fortune with his Grammy-nominated tune "Trashy Women." In keeping with the reflective mood of this piece, let me give you one of my favorite lines of his: "Crazy idea about the windshield and the mirror / The meaning's clear, one's the future, one's the past."

It's such a perfect example of life that whenever I hear that line it gives me a chill. Just like a windshield, the future is big in front of you, tons of curves, turns, and potholes, but moving inevitably forward. Your choices are infinite; you can keep straight or you can exit, and there's always going to be another road to go down. But the mirror that looks behind you can only show you exactly where you have been. You might be able to see the exits you missed, but no matter how much you want it to that mirror can't show you where they lead. Its field of vision is too small.

One of these days I will learn to spend more time looking out the windshield instead of staring in that mirror.

Some of you may not know this, but I once sang at the Grand Ole Opry when it was at the Ryman Auditorium. No, really. I have a picture to prove it. Ok, I was five years old, and my Dad (who looks seriously crazy in the picture) had to hold me up to the microphone, and my brother is standing there laughing at me like an idiot, but still that's more than some of you can say. The embarrassing part, besides those really ugly tennis shoes, is that I sang "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys. What I wouldn't give to have that chance back. "VietNashville" from Houston Marchman might be a good one to go with, or "Tennessee Highway" from Owen Temple (just 'cause it mentions the Ryman).

We used to spend our summers in Tennessee. If any of you can remember Jacky Ward (Jacky was one of the people to get Reba McEntire's career going, and sang a couple of duets with her, "Three Sheets In The Wind" and "That Makes Two Of Us"), we stayed at his house for a couple of weeks when I was about seven. We would sit outside and catch fireflies, and my mom would pull their butts off and I would wear them on my finger like a "Big Blue Diamond" (don't worry if you didn't get that was another Jacky song). The greatest part of that trip for me was when Jacky's daughters took me to Pizza Hut with them for supper. I was a cute kid and they just loved me. They were hot, too, if my memory hasn't just made them that way, and always laughing and having a good time. If only I could be that little kid again.

Damn it...I have got to stop looking in the mirror.

Until next time, hope for the best, expect the worst, and you'll never be let down.

Contact David Miller at


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