Story Of The Month

Well, to begin this column I thought I should start with a story about the first gig I ever did with a band.  It was at the Edwards Air Force Base and I and the band (a motley collection of  musicians doing mostly rock n roll covers) had visions of our careers taking off with a bang.  Well, it sort of did as halfway through the first song we heard a loud pop and half the p.a. system went out!  Zapp!  So this is how my career was going to start.  I felt my insides grow very empty and tired as I tried to put forth my best performance regardless of the insidious weight around my neck telling me that if we only had half a p.a. we’d only sound half as good.  I could tell the others were feeling it too as the songs became more tense, sluggish, lifeless, generally crappy in every way.  I was crestfallen.  Word would get out that we sucked!  Oh no!  What happened to my career?  Driving home through the desert I had the feeling that this was a bad omen.  It’s funny how we look at things some times.

Well, no we didn’t get invited back to play at the Edwards Air Force Base again, but somehow my career survived.  I’m sure there’s not a single soul in the world that can remember anything about that night’s performance except for the five people in the band and even at that I know my memory of the night is pretty shoddy.  I can’t even recall a single song we played although “Born To Be Wild” wouldn’t be a bad guess for one of them.  And speaking of driving home through the desert…That reminds me of another story involving a band, a gig by the river, a Wurlitzer electric piano, at least one scorpion and hundreds of bats.  But that will have to wait until next month!  Keep jamming!

Rob

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