Doc and the Judge redefined ‘business as usual’. They didn’t just ‘break on through to the other side’ as Jim Morrison urged in his hypnotic sixties reverie they crashed and crashed on through! They made tons of money for the grey suits that supported and funded them, and a tidy pile of cash for themselves along the way though it was truly not really about the money for them, it was about being ‘dudes’. They defined themselves daring the world to defy their ability to turn cultural trends into big money returns for the true believers who backed them. They never compromised, never shrank from a battle and never feared losing it all. Their business acumen and inherent credibility was inextricably linked to their integrity and musical and business authenticity.

Doc watched over the Judge for his own good and the Judge knew and respected his faith. The Judge was a searing, shooting star flashing blindingly across the night sky and defiantly demanding acceptance on his own terms. The Doc executed the business and kept the Judge real. They understood their roles developing an unstoppable synergy along the way. They took on the world, bought and sold it many times over laughing ALL THE WAY TO THE BANK. Doc promised the Judge’s father that he’d always watch over his son, but the Judge was restless, on the move always working hard to make his life work even as excess conspired to dispatch him before his time. He was beginning to grow up, he moved away. He called Doc to let him know he’d received a great industry accolade and wanted him to fly to Chicago for the celebration. It was the only time Doc had to say no to the Judge. Three days later Doc received a call that the Judge had died. Doc felt an inexplicable shudder at that precise moment; it was as if a piece of his spirit died with the Judge.

Doc and the Judge were raw iconoclasts. Once standing at a Dallas Airport ticket counter as the Judge upgraded them to 1st class, they hear a young boy saying, "Look at the cowboys, mommy!" They didn’t look back but were awkwardly balancing themselves in their newly purchased Justin boots. Needless to say they weren’t at all surprised to hear the mother reply "Those aren’t cowboys, son!" Funny, they thought they were. They were inseparable during the decade of the 70’s, Butch and the Kid many called them. The Judge always swore he ruled his court, Doc smiles at these memories suspecting that even now he’s hanging out with God and is slipping a wickedly powerful toke or perhaps a St Pauli’s girl to the apostles when the big ‘G’ isn’t looking.