A small boy sits on the steps leading down to "Sonny's", a juke joint extraordinaire if the smell of stale beer and sweat is your Chanel No.5 and Hank and Buck are your Wagner and Puccini.

Little "Crash" Gordon Johnson hugs his hand-me-down Roy Rogers guitar, eyes boring a hole into the soles of his cowboy boots.  The pint sized hipster, transfixed, rides the wave of Cliff Gallup’s revved-up hep-cat riffs jumping off the Blue Cap's fret board, cooool Gene Vincent howls and croons from Sonnys' Wurlitzer.  Little "Crash" sees and hears the light early.

Night.  Candy Apple Red '67 GTO.  Blazing inferno Jersey Turnpike.  Kicking out the molten windshield Gordon emerges from the wreckage of the "Highball Trio" without spilling a drop.  Fanning the flames with his swinging Telecaster "Crash" mutters in a low growl "BURN BABY BURN!" and shuffles down the long ribbon of highway.

Hitching a ride on "Crash's" Orange Gretch, hanging onto the whammy bar like two high-wire flyers, bassist Scotty Fender (Blowrods) and drummer 'Immortal' Rich Cahill pour rocket fuel over Hank covers and 50s' Rockabilly classics.  Gordon touches the glowing match head to tradition and the self penned.  Sputnik is launched!

Sputnik re-enters the Earth's atmosphere in the fall of 2003 with the self-produced "Crash Gordon" CD tangled in its 'chute.  WATCH THE SKIES!