Meet Stan and Balthazar Ouro. Two seemingly normal brothers in pursuit of their dreams. I say “seemingly” because it makes you question the word “normal”. It leads you to believe that they are hiding something. A secret. An aspect of their lives that will completely blow. you. away.

They’re not.

Aside from the mystery of genetics that gives Stan his luxurious Captain Kirk-style wavy locks and gives Balthazar his receding Denny Crane-style … lack-of-wavy-locks, they’re fairly regular guys. At least regular guys who have decided to pursue their dreams.

“Hey, Unnamed Narrator Guy,” I hear you say. “You used that ‘pursuing their dreams’ phrase twice. It feels kinda redundant. And repetitive. Like you’re saying the same thing over and over again. Repetitively.”

Nay, I respond with a vaguely condescending laugh (and without quotes because I’m the Narrator and I can do that sort of thing). ‘Tis not redundant. The repetition is intended to drive home the point that they are doing something that most of us are not. And by “us”, I mean “you”. After all, I’ve been dreaming of writing this comic; ergo, my gentle needling and general admonition does not apply to myself. Having allayed my monstrous ego, I shall now continue.

You see, the brothers, in addition to being follicly-gifted and or -challenged, are musicians. For instance, Stan plays the guitar. Has done so for most of his conscious and remembered life. Do you remember the scene in “August Rush” where a child who’d never seen a guitar before started simply banging on it and beautiful music came out? That has nothing to do with our story. But Stan‘s an awesome guitarist. And his voice is like an angel. At least an angel who would sing rock songs in seedy bars and lounges. That kind of angel, yeah.

Balthazar, within days of being born, discovered that his rattle made sounds. Rhythmic sounds. Sounds not unlike those that Geddy Lee would joyfully wail along to about some folk hero who tricked others into whitewashing fences. Nowadays, the ferocity of his – I believe the kids today would say, “righteous beats” – with a pair of drumsticks in his hands has even earned him a nickname: “The Woodchipper”. A former friend of the brothers who played bass with them gave him that nickname. That friend is now known as “Patch”. I will leave the details of the dramatic, heart-breaking, and really grody story behind these two names up to you to muddle out, Dear Reader.

So, with those exposition-heavy paragraphs out of the way, I now … offer you more. You see, the boys recently came into a fair amount of money; enough to sustain them for a bit of time. Simultaneously, they have found themselves without a solid place to call home. And I now turn to you to ask, and in quotes, “If you had such stunning music talents as these two, a decent amount of cash on hand, a fabulously-running van (because despite my not mentioning it previously, they do), and no place to call home, what would you do?” And without waiting for you to respond, I will answer my own question: They have decided to tour. And so, they shall…