Don’t Pick On Me

Several of us amateur musicians were gathering to play gospel music for a “dinner-on-the-grounds” next to a Southern Baptist church in a rural south Texas town. As anyone who has been around this church knows, we love to eat and don’t need much of an excuse to have “dinner-on-the-grounds.”

Lola, Is That You

It’s the early 80’s – Parachute pants, Jordache jeans, narrow leopard print ties, men’s hair bigger than women’s and the last gasp of disco. No, that wasn’t the scary part.

A Pants Party in Myrtle Beach

I was hired to play a week’s worth of gigs in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina a couple of years ago. The management company set me up in some posh digs near the beach, and promptly left me on my own. – no car, no way to or FROM the gigs.

Maggots!

Strangely enough, in our weird little following here in Chicago, the Maggots song keeps getting requested.

Fly By Jazz

The following is what I would label “my most unusual gig:” Some years ago, our jazz trio played a wedding reception at Bay Point Resort down in Panama City, Florida. It was quite elaborate, with plenty of food and “fanfare.” We were playing outside under a huge tent next to the marina, where all of the million-dollar “vessels” were moored.

Gotta Light?

Last week, a lady caught on fire at a club. She leaned over the TABLE candle so her hubby could light her cig, and her long hairsprayed hair went WHOOSH! She was on fire. She wasn’t hurt, thank goodness.