Torn from the pages of history, and picking up the torch once held by the likes of the great Lenny Bruce, the saga of Bowley & Wilson and the lovely and talented First Amendment.
These guys are friends of the family...
THE HARROWING ACCOUNT OF BOWLEY AND WILSONS' ARREST AND TORTUROUS INCARCERATION IN THE DALLAS CITY JAIL (BOWLEYS' VERSION.....WILSON TELLS THIS MUCH BETTER THAN I DO, BUT I'LL TAKE THE FIRST SWING AT IT). First of all, there had been some contact with the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission (TABC), concerning the deportment of Bowley and Wilson on stage. "A little over the line..." was mentioned. And a $5000 fine. Deal or no deal? No deal. We took it as a shakedown. Extortion even. And we were young and cocky and stupid. Stupid smart, as it turned out. So, the TABC started to send in undercover "agents" (these were guys who didn't quite get accepted to the Dallas Police Department, but still wanted to walk around with a gun. And cheap suit). They didn't own tape recorders (or didn't know how to run 'em) so they'd write down everything we said, and had a secretary transcribe it later. (BTW, I read some of the transcriptions and was reallllllly funny......where I said to some gal "Don't be such a sour-puss" in a double entendre-ish wise-guy way, the TABC wrote down "Mr. Bowley says to the young lady "You have a sour smelling Pussy"). Yikes!!!
When the TABC thought they had a tight and righteous case, they launched their invasion plan. Would have loved to have been in that meeting. The maps. The second by second schedule. Blocking the escape routes. What kind of ammunition. Hollow points??? Please please just this once??????
Now, Bowley and Wilson almost always ending the first show singing Eric Claptons' 'Cocaine'....during which the band and the whole audience would get drenched in corn starch powder, Bowley head to toe. it was then the TABC sprung their trap. The head TABC guy was named Elvis.....Something-or-other.....anyone remember to help me out here......who lead the "task-force" to the stage. Guns . Badges. Bad haircuts. The audience HOWLED thinking it was part of the show. Top gun Elvis I guess was introducing him self ("I"m officer Elvie ---------- from the TABC and you're under arrest, " or something. My ears were packed with corn starch and my eyes with the same....the only word i heard was "Elvis" and thinking someone was requesting an ELVIS song at that inconvenient moment, I said something like "f**k off, were takin a break." Yikes!! The handcuffs went on. The audience HOWLED. The fake fuzzies went through the dressing room looking for drugs, and OF COURSE found nothing. It was in the kitchen. Putzes.
Into the police cars and downtown to jail. The fake fuzzies turning us over to real cops. Please bare in mind that we knew tons of Dallas Police Officers. We'd had so many cops' bachelor parties in our place we were practically members of the union. They made sure we got home at night. They were incredulous when we were hauled in. And HOWLED.
The booking officer, whom we did not know, took our information and wanted to take our stuff. I was wearing (and still am actually) a solid gold band that my friend Jerry Forrest of the jewelry forrest had made for me and permanently soldered onto my wrist. The officer wanted to get it off me. "How do you get this f**kin' thing off? There's no f**kin clasp here? What the f**k am I supposed to do with this? God damn motherf........" He cut it off. "Now" he said "what were you boys arrested for?" "Sayin' the word f**k" we said.
Remember, we were covered head to toe in white powder. And a matter of GREAT CURIOSITY to all the other prisoners. "What's with you guys?" they asked. "Well,' we'd explain "we were making a Coke delivery in the convertible when the Cops started chasing us. We tried to throw it all out during the chase, but it kept blowing back on us." We were stars. Dollar bill were rolled, pens taken apart to make straws, and we were followed everywhere, our clothes and clouds of trailing dust sniffed, snorted, licked and loved.
Our crackerjack legal team of Kevin Clancy and Bill Bratton arrived and bailed us out. The law the TABC had arrested us under had already been declaired unconstitutional, but some prick in the D.A.'s office decided to charge us with public obscenity. Because it was already all over the newspapers and TV I guess. We were famous. And now obligated to be ten times dirtier than we ever were before. Eventually the Playboy Magazine Defense Team got involved in the case (read all about it in the 1982 August issue of Playboy Magazine). We have been in prison in Huntsville Texas ever since.
~John Bowley
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