Until today, I was unable to pinpoint what exactly was missing in my life. It wasn’t pizza, I’ve been in a pizza paradise all summer long. It sure as shit wasn’t a lack of CVS brand wine, after 3 months,$66-$72 dollars, and a God-like status on the CVS rewards point system , I was able to chemically alter my blood type from O Negative to Sauvignon Blanc.

So what was it then? A boyfriend? Nah. A kid? Child, please. New episodes of Teen Wolf? No. Well…yeah. Actually that has been causing me a lot of emotional distress but there was still something else. Some type of troublesome void that needed to be filled. That is until today, when I stumbled upon, what I believe to be, evidence of Silver G back in full swing creepy action and I realized he was the missing key to my summer.

When we last left the G man he had decided to take all of the knowledge he had gathered from sitting on the couch with his mother watching countless episodes of Celebrity Apprentice, and put together a marketing plan to get him some more ETA (Elvis Tribute Artist) gigs. He did what any intelligent business man looking to further his career would do and took to Facebook statuses and Myspace notes. And when that didn’t work he did what any insane business man would do and took to the Home Depot parking lots where he trolled around scouting talent until he found a sweet little Mexican man named Frank C. Lantro (I wish I was making this up).  Despite everything he had learned regarding safety when it came to Elvis impersonators,  the promise of YouTube stardom was just too enticing to pass up. Frank grabbed his uke, finished his big bowl of noodles, chugged his 7th pineapple Fanta, and said “Adios” to his amigos as he eagerly climbed into Silver G’s chariot.

I can only imagine the strong bond of friendship formed as the two of them drove off into the California sunset, tearing ass down the mean streets of Victorville, the wind flapping Silver G’s ears so aggressively he almost took flight, stopping only for a second at a Del Taco bathroom to take a cellphone pic of themselves in the mirror to submit to the VH1 producers of Behind The Music when they inevitably would approach them to cover their story.

Like a guy bringing home his tipsy date on prom night, Silver G could hardly wait to grab a set of marracas & hit record on that 1993 JVC videotape recorder. Producing what is arguably the greatest collaboration since Rob Thomas & Carlos Santana, what happened next was straight up inspiring.

So you can imagine how heartbroken I was to discover that, after this duet leaked onto the net, no one was biting at the opportunity to hire THE Silver G, YouTube sensation, the now fucking legend amongst the Hispanic community. It’s a sick world we live in when no one wants to hire an extremely gifted middle aged man, willing to travel any distance by way of his mother’s old bang bus van, in order to provide grade A entertainment. Anyways, I think he took this pretty personally as well, that or went back to living in the van and picking chewed up gum off the metro floors to eat for dinner, because he has since pretty much disappeared. Leaving me feeling empty and void of happiness.

But talent that fucking raw cannot be caged for long. Just like a night at the Old Country Buffett, the food might change but the price stays the same. I believe the G-man is out there crooning harder than ever. My dude just realized what Donald Trump was trying to teach those celebs ALL ALONG. And that is that there is no glory to be had in serenading Elvis songs to dementia stricken cottonhead grannies. There is no recognition for having an ear for Mexican uke talent. If he was going to make it was going to have to make a change first. His real target demographic would have to be children under the age of 10 years old. So he switched the game up, found a new career path, and appears to be on the way to stardom. Some people (I’m looking at you, Don) think the music died on the day Buddy Holly’s plane went down but I like to think that is not the case. I like to think that as long as we have Silver G constantly evolving the music will never die.

Happy Birthday, Reed. This buds for you. From our dear friend, Silver G.

Let this be a lesson to anyone who felt pigeon holed into a life they just couldn’t make work. Remember, it’s never too late to get just a little bit more absolutely fucking creepy. Reach for the maracas!

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