Tom Petty
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“That bastard ran down my dream.”
~ Bob Dylan on tom Pretty
“Hey I served that guy in the Korean war! He got owned.”
~ Mr. Murgola on tom Pretty
Tom Pretty (aka tom Pretty) is a musician of minuscule talent who carries an enormous chip on his shoulder, and carries grudges for the most amazingly simple affronts imaginable. Other well-adjusted people, even some other musicians, would consider these affronts to be harmless social "gaffes" or mistakes. But not tom Pretty. Oh, noooooo — tom Pretty is the type of person who makes mountains out of molehills, because doing so gives him an excuse for his not having recorded anything decent within the past ten years.
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[edit] From the beginning
A native Floridian, Pretty was born thomas Pretty, and experienced a childhood full of extreme poverty, by American standards. According to later interviews, Pretty always felt that he had received the short end of the stick. Even his father, who worked hard and tried to provide for his family as best he could, was so poor that the family couldn't afford a capital "P" for their last name.
And ohhhhh, man — that's one major sore point for tom Pretty. It wasn't enough that he had to go through life with that weird white trash spelling of his name, but he also didn't get to live in the good part of Florida while he was growing up. And whatever you do, don't bring up his mother's cooking. When other people got to go to McDonald's for dinner, tom and his family had to "live the Campbell's life." Sure, there were people starving in the Soviet Union, but all the Pretty family had to eat was condensed soup, every night of the friggin' week... jeez.
It might have gotten freeze-your-ass-off cold in places like Fond-Du-Lac Wisconsin, but there were days when tom Pretty's Florida would get above 80 degrees in the middle of February - and in Boca, it's like 81 degrees outside, and that like, blows, because it wasn't fair, man.
[edit] Then there are his looks
While there were other kids who were just-plain ugly growing up around him, Pretty always felt that he wasn't attractive, and that he was maybe even uglier than the other kids, and dude, that just blows — because while he wasn't freaky enough to get a job with the circus, he wasn't good-looking enough to get any girls, either.
So music became his mistress, and that blows too, because while music was always there when he needed it, music just wouldn't go all the way for him, and that meant no blowjobs. Other guys got blowjobs in high school, but noooooo, not tom Pretty. He decided right there and then that he would make music his life and communicate his misery through that music and that the music would make him filthy stinking rich and that would show the people a thing or two, the bastards.
[edit] A life of crime
The first thing that tom did was to go out and steal an upper case "P" from a highway sign. With that, he went from being tom Pretty to Tom Pretty.
My, what a cathartic moment that must have been.
[edit] The oh-so-talented Mr. Pretty
So, like, Pretty hits the road, gathers up these musicians to form a band, and like they expected to get paid something more than minimum wage. And man, that really got into Tom Pretty's craw because it was like he was doing them a favor, and all they could think about was making enough money for blowjobs and cocaine. No one asked Tom Pretty if he wanted to share a couple of hookers or roll up a hundred-dollar bill and inhale various controlled substances over a mirror. Assholes.
To get back at the bandmembers who wanted to call themselves a cool name like "Thrust" or "The Tom Pretty Band," he tried naming them The Bastards. But triangle player Jimbo Wales complained to the Admin Cabal Union, and Pretty had to compromise by coming up with a new name, which SUCKS! So Pretty renamed them the "Heartbreakers," because when they didn't ask him to join in on their musicianly whoring, drugging, and enjoyment of classic Russian literature, he was, like, heartbroken, and they should know his pain — that'd show them, the bastards.
Pretty and his band of ingrates cut a few albums, got invited to open a few concerts — the usual — and then these other singers who weren't good enough to, like, ask Pretty to come over and jam with them started asking him to, like, write songs for them. This got Pretty really pissed off — like he was going to write hit tunes for them? But because he was a bigger guy than they were, he finally gave in, because then they would owe him, and OWE HIM BIG.
[edit] Almost killed by Stevie Nicks
Eventually, Pretty got to hook up with Stevie Nicks, and, like, he was cool with that because she was one helluva party broad and she could get him a meeting with Mick Fleetwood. Well, you know the story — "Tom," she whined, "can you write me a song?" Pretty replied, "Fuck no!" — for now, he was really pissed off. And she's like, "Tom, we could sing together if you wrote us a song," and Pretty was finally, "Fuckin' A," on the fast track.
First, Pretty gave the Heartbreakers the heave-ho, because they were just lampreys on his shoulder, and then he writes Nicks this bitchin' ballad about the sweet pain of love lost. Well, they get up to perform it in London in front of a crowd of 50,000 (she promised 51,000, the bitch), and the music starts and the groove is starting to go down and — WHAT THE FUCK!!?!?!??
Out of nowhere, this Stevie Nicks broad starts swishing and flapping her skirt with her right arm like her panties are on fire, and when Pretty leans in for his "share the microphone moment" with her, the bitch beans him. Well, of course, she smacks him so hard that it, like, nearly knocked him to the floor. She could have taken his eye out with all that leather and lace whipping him in the face, too. But nooooo, she just keeps singing — and even then, she's so trashed and smells so much like Jim Beam that she's just slurring the beautiful words that he wrote for her. Christ on a cracker!
Well, good for her that he survived, because otherwise he would've taken her for everything she owned.
[edit] Works with Linda Ronstandt
Pretty teamed up with Linda Ronstadt, too — before she got enormously fat. And then, after she ate Mexico, she calls him up and she's all whining like, "Tom, can you write me a song?" And Pretty tells her, "Fuck no!" because she played all hard-to-get when she was thin, but now that she's a total porker, she's like, all over him like white on rice — and that really pissed him off. And she's like, "Tom, we could sing together if you wrote us a song," and Tom Pretty was finally, "Fuckin' A," on the fast track (again).
So they go to record this song of love done wrong by man who needed to ramble the world in search of truth and wisdom and how his whining harpie of a woman couldn't live without him and wouldn't you fucking know it — Linda Ronstadt was so fucking huge, she took up the whole recording studio. Fuck that! Pretty just knew that she put all that weight on because she wanted the spotlight all for herself - the bitch.
[edit] Back with the Heartbreakers
In 2006, Pretty reunited with those miserable sons of bitches the Heartbreakers, who still wanted more than minimum wage to back him up, for fuck's sake.
So now, Tom Pretty and the Heartbreakers can be seen Tuesday through Sunday, three times daily at King Arthur's Court and Casino, Reno, Nevada.
And if you blow him off, you'll be sorry.
