Prince of Hops

A month of grey, rotten weather served only to sour the relationship between the Prince and Henry. One particularly foul day frustrations boiled over, and the two got into a fight in the courtyard. Spastic arm swinging quickly turned into aggressive rolling on the ground and heavy breathing. Eventually, and mercifully, the two stopped. The winner clearly being neither of the two combatants, but rather the puddle of mud in which they battled. 

In frustration, Henry screamed, “I can’t stand it anymore. I hate the clothes I have to bring you, the wine I pour, the god-awful chamber music you make me play, and the miserable weather here. I quit!”

And with that Henry promptly collected his things, grabbed the maiden that loved him the most by the hand, and the two left the kingdom. After a year of traveling the globe, drinking the finest spirits, playing music, and spending time in seedy establishments, the two settled in southern California. 

Henry and his love, the former maiden, were absorbed into the counter-culture scene with immediacy and ease. As the former servant’s reputation as a vociferous and talented musician grew, so too did his interest in starting his own group. After playing with various like-minded vagrants he picked his favorite and the band was born. 

Late, late one night, after rehearsing in the wine cellar of a local Inn, and after consuming several barrels of their favorite new beverage, the West Coast IPA, the group got a little wild and began smashing their instruments into the dusty wine bottles lining the walls. At that moment Henry had an epiphany. 

He raised whatever was left of his semi-shattered pint glass and declared, “Gents, in honor of the iron chains that once bound my heart and soul in the past, and as a token of affection to my true love, we are going to call our band, Iron Maiden. And from this moment forward we will play our music as loud as we want, drink as much beer as we want, and trash whatever room we stay in whenever we want. And so it was. 

After several years Henry grew tired of his exorbitant lifestyle. Between learning the hard way that his true love was less than faithful, and had become more of a ‘girl of the group’, and him growing tired of the excessive costs of replacing hotel furniture, carpet, and drapes, the opulent leader was ready for a break. So he closed the book on Iron Maiden. 

Keeping his love for West Coast IPAs literally at arm’s reach, while turning the page on other vices, Henry began the next chapter in his musical career.  He became a solo musician, playing acoustic, family-friendly cover songs at nearby brewery taprooms. Out of a nod to his past, the Prince he once served, and the saturating weather there, he chose the stage name of Toad the Wet Sprocket. And the rest is history.