It wasn’t a packed night. It was one of our first shows.
We were a few hours into a long set at Blarney Stone — the kind where you stop checking the time and just keep playing.
He showed up late.
Older guy. Cane. Didn’t look like he belonged there.
But he stayed.
And he moved — not just watching, actually moving like the music meant something.
When we finished, he came up and asked:
“Will you play Francis Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle?”
Full title 😂
We’d had already played it….didn’t matter.
We played it again.
He was stoked.
After that, he kept showing up — different shows, same energy. Commenting, following, coming back.
He was the first person who felt like he wasn’t just there for a night.
He was there for us.
His name was Todd.
Then one day, he stopped coming.
No announcement. No goodbye. Just… gone.
Not long after that, a skeleton started showing up.
First on a flyer. Then another. Then eventually on stage.
We needed a name.
We already had one.
Months later, at Santa Fe Springs Swap Meet, he showed up again.
Same guy. Same energy.
And for the first time—
Todd met Todd.