Randy is hard at work on on his autobiography and hopes to see its completion soon!

The following is a brief excerpt from my autobiography "Who's Randy Barlow/A Journey Toward Fame." I hope you enjoy it!  Love, Randy

The Year is 1966. My drummer, Bill, another fool named Comer, and I are on a spring break adventure headed for Tampico, Mexico. We've gone from Bowling Green Kentucky (Western Kentucky University) to Houston, Texas and are heading for Monterrey and then on to Tampico.

We're in Connor's Volkswagen bus. We are 23, 24, and 25 years of age, so you can imagine our maturity and decision making skills, fueled by mucho Cuervo! We've stopped at a restaurant just outside Monterrey, which is approximately 140 miles south of the border.

The restaurant is owned by a huge albeit friendly ex-marine retired in Mexico. He will cash a check for us as he sees our need for help. So.... Once upon a time........

We thanked our Marine friend for cashing the check and the call to his friend that owns the motel in Monterrey. Monterrey is the second largest city in Mexico; only Mexico City is larger. Our chick-mobile is racing toward Monterrey at a blazing speed of forty miles per hour. Our plush seats are still bouncing and our air conditioning is working fine; as long as the windows are open!

There is an encouraging sign posted just as we enter the city limits. It says "Only six fatalities in at the last year in Monterrey." The traffic is a nightmare. It is in a state of organized chaos. As we approach a red light Bill says, "What the hell is going on up there?"

We are going nowhere, so we get out of the VW super van and move toward a sight I'll never forget. There's a mint green VW bug with its front half resting comfortably in the back of a watermelon truck.

There are about thirty people gathered around this motorized circus. Twenty-seven Mexicans and three gringos (us). The truck driver and hapless VW drivers are having a "friendly" conversation nose to nose. They are yelling and arguing and using language we don't understand. But every few sentences brings a howl of laughter from the crowd. Just when I think the whole thing is gonna break out in a fist fight the two drivers smile, hug each other and shake hands. "Amigo! Amigo! Por Favor?" 

There are six guys (we volunteered to help) on each side of the bug, We gently lift it from the truck. The engine is still running! The truck driver asks everyone to help load his watermelons that haven't been squashed back into the truck. We help and are each rewarded with our pick of the fruitful litter. We have three watermelons, a case of beer (remember the check we cashed earlier!) and a story we will never forget. Welcome to Monterrey.