June 17, 1994: I was playing with a classic rock cover band called "Heritage" at a club in downtown East Rochester.
First, some drunk local threatened to kill all of us for blocking his path to the restroom with our power amp racks. "If you guys end up sucking -- I will KILL you."
After the death threat (he seemed VERY sincere), we were playing a number, the dance floor was hopping. Then, one by one, we noticed people were staring at the big screen TV playing in the corner of the room. It showed some whack-job in a white Bronco being chased by a bunch of cops. We stopped playing, and everyone in the club was silent as we watched OJ do his little post-slaughter stunt.
On the way home that night, the aluminum cylinder head in my small Dodge pickup cracked. Spewed a mixture of oil and coolant smoke into the warm June night air.

A year or two ago, at a "BlueJimmy Unplugged" show at Eddie O'Brien's in Canandaigua:
We're two or three numbers into the first set, when one of our good friends leaps onto the stage, and hands our lead singer his cell phone. After 10 seconds (we're still playing, mind you), our lead singer screams back to us, "My house is on FIRE! I've got to go!" He throws his guitar to our friend and runs out. We finished the number somehow.
Turns out a cigarette butt placed in a planter box on the outside of his house had ignited. Luckily, a few of his neighbors spotted the smoke and quickly put out the flames.

Memories....

"Post-slaughter stunt"? I remind you all that he was found to be not guilty by a jury of his peers. I know that they were HIS peers, because MY peers would have convicted the murdering S.O.B. :D

Anyway---Steve, call me. We must discuss the weapon V 2.0