What was your strangest gig?

[David Ball]

My strangest gig was a banjo gig, not steel but...

There is a nudist camp in Crossville, TN. They hired us to play a nude contra dance. Seemed like something we should do just to say we did.

We showed up at the place, and the campground was full of megabuck motor coaches, pretty much exclusively. The first people we ran into was a couple of fellows with big bellies, no pants, but golf shirts. Guess the bellies shaded the parts below, but shoulders might sunburn. Not a great start to our experience.

Next we ran into a genuine nudist volleyball game. Dang--I had always though that was urban myth or something. But no, it was real.

Finally we get to the dance hall. Plexiglas floor with the dancing "love lights" underneath that moved with the music. Whoa. We played the gig--pretty much like any other dance we had played except everyone was naked. I wore my banjo like Jimmy Page wears his guitar--slung real low. Not easy to play down there, but I guess I still have some modesty.

Years later, I was playing a show at the Charleston South Carolina Museum on the anniversary of the firing on Fort Sumpter. I was playing with a classical violinist, a flutist and a classical guitar player, along with an artist who had painted a series of paintings depicting Civil War battles. We were playing Civil War era music as background to the lecture about the paintings. Driving from Knoxville to Charleston, we were all comparing notes about our weirdest gigs ever, and I told the story I told above. The violinist chimed in that she had played there and they tried to pay her in comps to the camp! But the guitarist said that he plays there every year. And in tails as he always wears for performing. Everyone else in the raw. We had all played that place!

Anyway, I've done it and feel no need to play it again. But you can't un-see the sight on the disco dance floor.

Dave

[Charlie Hansen]

Played drums at a women’s pen one time. Just glad to escape with everything intact.

[Dave Grafe]

I was contracted to provide the sound system for the first Ross Coleman Invitational benefit PBR event at the Molalla Buckaroo grounds. A few days before the show I received a call from the leader of the band that was coming in from South Carolina to play at the show, and when he found out I was a steel player he hired me on the spot to play.

Day of show the band shows up and I discover it's some sort of country-rap thing with a vocalist playing an acoustic guitar, a drummer, and a guy with a drum pad triggering all sorts of odd samples. The drummer was the only experienced musician in the bunch but they had written and recorded a rap song about Ross Coleman conquering a famously "unrideable" bull, and this had inspired PBR's head honcho to book them for every PBR event of the season. Courting the youth market

We were on the back of a flatbed truck with three 10'x10' pop-up tents, one of which was the "lounge" for the riders, and it soon transpired that the band had played all three songs they knew, twice, and with hours yet to go the singer started winging it with scraps of songs he remembered all jumbled together, the drummer and sound effects guy dutifully following along. It was entirely horrid but I was doing all I could to introduce musicality into the mayhem. Just about the time I thought it couldn't get worse I realized the beer zone from the riders' lounge was slowly spreading my way, first on the floor, then on my cables, then on my amp. With nothing remaining to soak but me and my guitar I turned to the Brazilian cowboy who was nearest and asked if they could try to keep the beer off my gear. "Oh, I'm sorry sir!" he says and jumps up to get the rest of the guys to keep it chill.

This is the same guy I had just watched come off the field and poor an entire bag of ice down his shirt because a bull had just stomped in his chest. One of the most bad-ass dudes on the entire planet but his mama taught him proper manners before he left home.

One of many bizarre days in the life. I can't say it was the strangest but at least it's one I still remember.

[Bruce Bjork]

Played at a bike fest in Laconia, NH 1st time I ever performed for the Hells Angels, great crowd.

[John Cadeau]

We played at a women's prison. We were setting our gear up in an outdoor area. One prisoners looked out the window and turned around and she yelled out hey you bitches there are four big hunks of meat on the patio area.

[Dick Sexton]

Rio Grande Valley Texas, 60s started with a cue stick over the owner head and two women stomping each other in a gravel parking lot, Carousel outside of Brownsville. Once played a Hoe House in Matamoros Mexico, short but memorable gig. Service clubs on Okinawa, always weird but fun! Miles of drunks! Then there was that special New Year's Eve where the waitress poured a Rum and Coke all over the top of my almost new Marlen! Took a likin and kept on tickin!

[Charlie Hansen]

We played at a women's prison. We were setting our gear up in an outdoor area. One prisoners looked out the window and turned around and she yelled out hey you bitches there are four big hunks of meat on the patio area.

Sounds familiar.

[Fred Treece]

This is turning into my favorite thread. Even better than Nothing.

[Steve Cattermole]

Chino Prison with the Anderson twins, everything went fine.Still play with one of the twins once in a while

[Paul King]

It may not be the strangest gig but it was the most blessed I have ever been playing steel guitar. Our church played a gospel singing at a ladies prison east of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma several years ago. I still remember the response and that lady using a walker in prison.

[scott murray]

probably a common occurrence for some, but I played the Barley's in Knoxville when it first opened (late 90s) and a guy got stabbed as we played Folsom Prison Blues. I think we just kept going til one of us noticed the pool of blood

a few years ago, Ron Jeremy showed up at our country karaoke gig and got onstage to play Oh Susanna and Oh When the Saints on harmonica (the only 2 songs he knew)

I also played dobro at a place called Fiddler's Dream in Phoenix that was totally acoustic, no mics or amps

[Chris Templeton]

I did a prison tour of the federal & state prisons in New Mexico, in 1983, playing steel with a jazz band from Taos, called Crossroads.
I dipped tobacco at the time and was "packed" on my way in the Santa Fe federal prison.
I was waiting in line to get searched and had nowhere to spit, so I opted for the right pocket of my nylon sport coat
After the others in the entourage made it through the line and it was my turn, the officer told me to take off my belt and wanted to check my nylon sport coat. He reached his hand in the spit pocket, pulled out his hand, brushed his fingertips together and took a whiff. He asked me what it was so I told him.
He didn't say a word and motioned me by.
We opened with "All Blues" and we hadn't played but several bars and everybody was on their feet and clapping. So starved to hear live music.

[Chris Templeton]

If anyone wants to check out The American Blind Bowling Association, here is their website: https://www.abba1951.com
I'm guessing some of its members wear the bowler hats to go with their outfits.

[Olli Haavisto]

Playing on the roof of a public toilet, accompanying an off road truck competition.
That might be business as usual for you, but it's strange in my book.

[Robert B Murphy]

I have to keep a hanky handy to wipe away the tears from laughter. Some of you guy's stories: Five guys on a pool table, Ronald, Tiny Tim, Jimmy Page, playing on a potty...

I have some friends who played for Richard Heyman, America's first openly gay mayor. They had a string band, Solares Hill, in Key West. Richard hired them for a 'Hillbilly Halloween' party. There was a long bar set up in his back yard and the bartenders were big guys who looked like Lil Abner but were dressed up like Daisy Mae: ultra short denim mini-skirts and red bandanna half shirts with the tails tied in a little bow over their breast bones. At one point they start playing a particularly fast fiddle tune and suddenly the bartenders came from behind the bar and stood in front of the band and started clogging like they were on the Opry! Then they started flipping their skirts up at the audience. My friends, troopers that they were, said it was all they could do to keep it together but: "Those guys were good! They could dance!"

[Don R Brown]

I have to keep a hanky handy to wipe away the tears from laughter. Some of you guy's stories: Five guys on a pool table, Ronald, Tiny Tim, Jimmy Page, playing on a potty...

Absolutely! I think we're part way to a good book. "Tales From Behind The Fretboard". Or maybe "Seen From The Steel". A collection of all the various stories would be quite entertaining!

[Roger Rettig]

Not a strange gig, but an odd session:

You'll some of you remember Neil Innes, co-conspirator in the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, collaborator with Eric Idle on 'Rutland Weekend Television' (a six-part series) and, of course, the composer of all the 'Rutles' material, with songs coming eerily close to various Beatles tunes.

He also had his own series: 'The Innes Book of Records'. He'd routinely use me in the studio on guitar and, very occasionally, on steel. Neil was quite capable of scoring out what he wanted to be played by all instruments so I was intrigued to be handed my 'steel part'.

The music was to be an accompaniment to a cartoon video of a young tearaway marching down the street but being constantly 'buzzed' by this tiny little biplane.

You've guessed it: the steel guitar was to provide the sound of the aircraft swooping and diving around the cartoon teenager.

Neil, in addition to his many talents, was a brilliant graphic artist (you should see the exact copy of the Mona Lisa that he once painted on the crown of a bowler hat!) and, when I opened my chart, I saw this beautifully executed Steerman-like aircraft, drawn in Indian ink, but with it's rising and diving indicated on the appropriate measures.

Apart from that (with distortion added), I didn't play an actual note of music all morning. It was for network TV, so the pay was good. That is one hand-written chart that I wish now that I'd kept!

[Bill Cunningham]

My buddy, the late Tommy Dodd said when he moved to the Atlanta, GA area from South Carolina the first gig he had was with another departed friend, Billy Puckett as the leader. They provided entertainment for a major beagle field trialing event. He didn’t mention if the hounds howled at the sound of the steel guitar so I guess all went well.

[George Redmon]

George's Strange Gig, just a nice afternoon read.

Several years ago, been told it was in the late 70's early 80's, I got a call to help out a "Variety" type band on a decent paying New Years Eve private party gig. Of course right away i'm digging out my mom's obnoxious Robert Goulet, records. On New Years Eve up 'round these here parts, bands git paid double for New Years Eve. So being caught without a job, broke, starving, no beer, gas, Mary Jane or cigarettes (I was a 2 pack a day type guy back then, today I neither drink nor smoke,) I said sure.

Now this gig was at an exclusive private yacht club, just members and guest, and only by reservations. I wasn't married at the time, and still ain't married. But they told us all no wives or girlfriends. We couldn't eat and had to purchase our drinks. The dude that hired me told me the club wanted us there in the afternoon to do setup & sound checks, as not to be interrupting their members and guest. We all met up there at around 4PM or so. I could see waiters, delivery drivers, cooks, decoration hangings, like right out of one of them there action movies..... yup oh Georgie boy's got the right dive...oops I mean Venue... wow Great. This unkept, haggard looking, out of place guitarist, was most obviously completely out of my "normal" environment of misfit like musicians. Remember that episode on The Beverly Hillbillies, when they got to their new mansion? How they looked all around the place? Even the ceiling? That was me.

The smell of Lobster Stuffed Rigatoni being prepared right in front of me was a crime against humanity right there, and was starting to git to this under fed young 20's something ragged guitar player.

Well we had to unload through the service garage door, and drag that stuff (our equipment) through the lobby, up & down steps, long hallways, across the main ballroom, to a tiny portable speakers platform, hardly a stage. These fancy rich folks wouldn't even let us use a hand cart, or dolly. The drummer? (a snare, bass drum, 1 cymbal, high hat) as I recall had to set up on the floor to the right of the small speakers platform. If anything could go wrong... just wait... it's about to git worse. We managed to set up, do our mic and sound check, after the guy who first met us at the door, came running up to us, and decried "you guy's have electric guitars & instruments, I was told you were an orchestra???" (One of those uninformed, thinks he's important, club managers).
Excuse me a second I told them all loudly (I was pissed ok?)... gotta use the restroom... actually at this point..I just had to find a beer. The lady bartender asked me if I was a member, I said nope...and proudly stated " I work here sweetheart." Next thing I heard was $8 please huh? 8 dollars for the beer sir, I'll give it to you for your employee discount. With tip, there went my last $10 bucks....damn the luck.


After we calmed the club manager down, the guy who thought he hired Guy Lombardo for the evening, we were finally done & sat up, and after deciding on a meet up time for that evening, we all left.

It was your typical winter in Northern Michigan, I think the temperature that New Years was around -19° below 0, it was so cold that evening, and snowing like a blizzard on the big Lake Michigan shoreline. We returned about 6:30PM or so, as we were to start at 8PM. Well right away things took a turn for the worse wouldn't you just know it? I parked in the employee parking lot as instructed earlier, my Gibson Les Paul, and ES 335 were laying on the back seat of my old Chevy Nova, wrapped in an old sleeping bag, i slept in while being briefly homeless in Nashville one summer, and it was actually filthy. Motor idling loudly, as my heater was up on high heat, and I'm still freezing. The sports coat I borrowed, slid out of the plastic bag, and ended up on my filthy car floor among cigarette butts, empty beer cans, and almost empty Jack Daniel bottles, I was getting really bummed out.

Well the others pulled up into the rather full employee parking lot, and I noticed the door guy starting to help rich folks out of their cars, and into the club. I grabbed my two Gibson's and we all walked together towards the club, about a block away. Now I think my old Les Paul was around 7 or 8 pounds plus hardshell case. My 335 Was pretty heavy with case as well. By the time I made the door, I was almost on my knees... they were heavy after a block folks. My mother gave me an old pair of gloves, only ones I had. I wore my warmest coat, my pale green Carhart work coat. Big mistake guys, everyone in the place stared at me like they've never seen someone in a Carhart before....sheesh. Well as we approached the entrance, I heard a Security Guard asking for reservations as we patiently waited in line, instruments clearly visible in hand. The security guard asked us for our reservations. We politely informed him we were the band. He replied great, now your reservations please. We again reminded him who we were. He said I don't care if your God himself, no reservation, no admittance. I asked for that hyper little crazy guy who thought he hired Guy Lombardo. We were told he was done with his shift and went home. Now what, cain't ya call'em? I was so cold. I was all ready to say goodnight to them all....but man I needed the money so desperately ya know? A manager or someone that was in authority told this clown to "Let the band inside man". So we were finally allowed to enter....at this point, I was having difficulty even walking I was so cold. Man my hands ya know, It was passed just blowing on them.

As I entered the club, I could smell the cigars, "Ben-Gay" and food as soon as the snooty idiot door man opened the sliding glass doors. Sure enough here come dudes in suits. They ushered us through a back entrance to the main ballroom. Now... man if it's one thing I am expert at... is mingling at a party.... show ole george to the spiked punch bowl & beer for some friendly conversation, while I check out which ladies don't have a date. All in all it finally turned out to be an OK evening...rather boring actually. But we all talked the next day, and we just laughed at how fancy folks behave. It was quite the gig.

Special thanks to Bev for transpo....transposi.....typing this fur me. You are a special person Beverly. Hugs

[Don R Brown]

Loved it, George! Thanks for posting!

[Samuel Phillippe]

great story, thanks for posting. Kept me interested all the way to the end.....is that all? (LOL)

Sam

[Robert B Murphy]

And I thank you too, Beverly.

[Steve Cattermole]

I was playing a gig when two girls asked me to introduce them to the bandleader, so I did , then went my own way. The next night I comeback to play,and notice the bartenders mouth is really swollen, and he has a tiny band aid on each side of his face(little round ones like when you get a shot). When I asked him what happened he told me that when he told those girls that it was closing time one of them pulled out a pistol and shot him in the face. So now I don't talk to strange girls at my gigs

[Jeff Peterson]

In '77 or '78 in Houston I was doing a square dance session at Sugar Hill when Huey Meaux got a call for an organ player to sit in at a gig for Percy Sledge. I was using a steel through a Leslie model 900 for some time by then, (after listening to Rusty Young for years). Huey came to me and told me to go do it, I didn't want to so he guaranteed he'd pay me whether he used me or not. I got there, set up, Percy walked in and said 'where the hell is the Hammond?'. The band leader pointed at me and Percy said 'Hell no!'. Band leader just said give it a chance and kicked off When a Man Loves a Woman. Percy listened for a minute and said, 'Ok, but that's the only damd song he's doin'...and had me move my gear behind a big planter on the side of the stage with that big model 900 in front of it and me. What was hilarious to me, was he did that dang song 4 times during his show..so I just ran back and forth between the bar and the planter trying not to be too obvious. Strange gig indeed!

[Edward Dixon]

Not strange and not a gig but I did a charity benefit back in '99. 6 hours in front of the Wal-Mart at 81st & Lewis in Tulsa. It ended up raising $13,200 for a women's shelter and got me a trip to Washington D.C. where I met Colin Raye and had lunch with Miss America, Heather French. The details are too many to list here and I don't care to type it all out. I'll just say "It was a God deal".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T33_xzFz2wk