The Steel Guitar Forum

While attending college full time in the late 50’s and early 60’s I played the local night clubs in and around Louisville, picking up any one-night gigs that came my way. I got a call one day from a lady who played banjo and was quite well known in that area. She had booked a company banquet at one of the nicer hotels, and asked if I would play the job. Of course, I said, “Yes,” and was glad to get the few bucks it paid.

The instrumentation consisted of bass, guitar, fiddle, banjo and steel. The musicians were good at what they did, but it was pure, old-time country. Everything went well for the first hour or two, until someone requested “Stardust.” The leader/banjo-player looked at me and said, “Do you know Stardust?” I said, “Yes.” That was my first mistake. Then I added, “I play it in Db.” That was my second mistake, and I knew I was in trouble when she said, “Where is Db?” Quick as a wink my nimble brain went into action and I said, “Let’s just play it in C.” She said, “O.K., count it off and call the chords to us.”

Now, my thinking was that it wouldn’t be a problem just to transpose from Db to C – just play everything one fret lower. That was my third mistake. Did you ever try to play something like Stardust in a strange key, think of the next change coming up, consider the transposition, figure out the best substitute major chord that is not a sharp or flat, call it out to the band just before the change, and play a recognizable melody – all in tempo?

I will always believe that the person who requested it was a musician who did it just to have a little fun at my expense.

Roy - that's funny!

Many, many years ago we played a function where we were happily taking all and any requests. Drunk on our success up to that point, we undertook 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'. Now, this is not a difficult tune - true, it has the odd augmented, but it's pretty straightforward.

The problem, basically, was that half of us were counting it as follows:

'They (two), asked us how we knew (two),' etc

and the other half of us (no names here) were counting it:

'They (two, three, four), asked us how we knew (two, three, four)' etc...

Chaos quickly ensued, but the ultimate put-down came from the drummer, for once blameless and by now cringeing with embarrassment, who shouted, "Come on, boys - play something you know!"

It isn't often that the drummer gains the moral 'high ground' in the band.....

RR

I got asked to play in a wedding. I went to the rehearseal the night before and practiced with everyone else. When I went to the wedding I started to play and nothing would come out. So here I am in front of the audience playing and no sound coming out. I was so embarassed to say the least. I went home and set up my steel and it was if nothing had ever happened. I could not get it to act up and it never did it again. Some things are hard to explain.....Paul

Several tossups..

One recent near miss was our drummer starting out "together again" as a waltz at an outdoor large crowd deal. Came off without a hitch.

One reccurent one in Canada was when a couple of the "natives" would get up, want to sing a song, and for some particular reason, could not "get" the waltz beat. I merely told the guys to play four beats, and it worked out perfecty.

Miserable? Maybe it was the one in Astoria, where Old Chuck Williams drank a half a bottle of jack before the second set, and I slept with my dog under a canvas at the Astoria Moose. We'd been fired, but the "let" us play out the weekend. I didn't have enough gas money to get home. He got drunker the next night.

It might have been the one with Bob MAchado where he had hocked all but the tweeders on his PA and played his bass through them as well as sang, because his bass amp had gone up his nose, and then clipped the band for the wage of the "fourth and fifth pieces".

Maybe it was playing at the North Jetty when at the end of the night the owner came in and said that it ws "too bad" that nobody showed up and we wouldn't be getting paid. Bobby Throckmorton paid me out of his pocket, after my insistance, but I always felt lousy about that one.

Then there was the Eagle Caps band at Tiny's in St Johns ( thanks again Harley) with a slamming plexiglass door and freezing weather..

Did I mention the log cabin four room, four track recording session on a farm in North Plains doing Jim Reeeves tunes with Gary Sanderson, the singin sax playing bus driver with ulcerative colitis?

Oh, and Les Pollard that got so drunk that he wasn't stepping on the bass progression pedals. When he screwed up Waltz across Texas, that was it. I called up the next day for the only time I can remember doing so, and quit.

Then there was the Kenny Bennett gig where he, myself and a keyboard player played along with a Neil Diamond Voice erased 8 track at the Astoria Eagles. Same tape repeated each set. The keyboard was unplugged. What was scary was that they wanted us back.

Boy. This is getting depressing.

Then there was Elko....

These were mostly 15-20 years ago. THe names have not been changed because there are no innocent. Mostly they're dead or in jail.

I'm glad things have gotten so much better.

I thought I had some classic ones, but after Eric's I wont bother mentioning them.

I once played a gig for a political bigwig at a Napa valley winery. Beautiful setting on a sunny afternoon. As I was setting up, someone put a stool and microphone next to me. They explained to me that this was for the host's lawyer, who happens to also be a country musician. What does he play? I think you've guessed by now.

I grinned like an idiot for four hours, in front of the most distinguished guests in the state of California, with a b@nj0 pointed directly at my right ear. That's one reason why I'm not a "professional musician" any more.

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<small><img align=right src="http://b0b.com/b0b.gif" width="64" height="64">Bobby Lee - email: quasar@b0b.com - gigs - CDs
Sierra Session 12 (E9), Williams 400X (Emaj9, D6), Sierra Olympic 12 (C6add9), Sierra Laptop 8 (D13), Fender Stringmaster (E13, A6),
Roland Handsonic, Line 6 Variax

Have you thought about getting some counselling after that, b0b? Maybe talking it through would help....

RR

b0b:

Did the b@njo player know "Stardust"?

Roy

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Edited to spell "b@njo" correctly.<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR="#8e236b"><p align=CENTER>[This message was edited by Roy Ayres on 07 March 2003 at 04:48 PM.]</p></FONT>

Looking up from playing (somewhere outside of Nashville around '74) and watching through the front window of the bar the constant rounds of fist fights outside.

Joining with the lead singer (Rick Dyson from somewhere, Texas) to pick up chairs and usher a drunk with a knife out the front door (Broadway Club, Nashville).

You can tell by the class of joint how good we were. The Opry crowd never found these places. But we had a good time playing, so maybe this doesn't qualify as miserable. And at least there warnt no banjos. Our biggest competition was a one-man band (Chuck something) who only had a couple of fingers on his left hand, played electric guitar with a volume pedal and a tremolo handle, and could do more pedal steel licks than I could. Man it was tough playin' a gig after him.

The summer before the last presidential election,I was asked(and paid very well)to play at a "Pat Buchannon for President" rally and fundraiser up at some ultra right wing rich guy's estate over in Glendale.I had no problem with that because I knew Pat didn't have a Chinaman's chance of winning the election and even tho the band was not so good,I thought it might be fun to meet him. When I got there,they were still building the stage which was out in the middle of a vast 2 acre front yard and up against the fence at the front edge of the property. I set up,tuned up,the band was pretty much ready to play and they were still hammering away building the backdrop for the stage.Eventually we were told to go ahead and start and so we did - even though we were competing with nail guns,skill saws,clouds of sawdust in our midst and guys tromping around behind the backline accidently unplugging our amps. Soon we were roasting alive in the blistering sun because nobody thought to put a lid on the still ongoing construction site. Then we had to back up Patsy Montana who handed us a cassette of her piano player playing
"Don't Fence Me In" in free time in some unknown arrangement and wanted us to play it thru the PA and then play along with it while she did rope tricks out front. I thought it was a bad idea and I was right because the cassette was somewhere between C and C#. So that was a spectacular nine-way trainwreck for all kinds of reasons - all to the accompanyment of the carpenters hammers.Not too long after that,the ultra-left wing Jewish Defense League agitator,Irv Reubin set up shop on Foothill Blvd right outside the fence - right behind the stage and commenced bellowing anti-Buchannon slogans thru a bullhorn whilst we played "Good Hearted Woman" and other beer joint standards. Soon a car horn honking contest took over and finally completely drowned out the band.After a short break while the cops cleared the area and we had beans and pork ribs,it was time to butcher the Star Spangled Banner.The band consisted of some not particularly accomplished musicians and when they plowed through our national anthem it was virtually unrecognizable. After a vain attempt to drag the band through the tune,all I could do was stifle a grin,stare at my strings,back off my volume pedal and pretend to contribute to the symphony of incompetence - and hope no one I knew was in the audience.At last,Pat took the stage and gave his standard speech about how we should close our borders before Mexicans take over the world,etc,etc. Afterwards I had a beer and a chat with Pat and in spite of his bizarre views,I liked him ok. When I got home,I realized one of my knee levers was missing and had apparently got loose and fell off somewhere along the way...... -MJ-

Dang it. Why can't I get some of those organized gigs?

Man you guys sure are funny!

I really needed to laugh after a hard day at the ofice and you guys did it.

I'm prayin' for you and keep up the humor!

May GOD bless you all!

Woody

The all time worst gig was when I played a trailride in Southern Kansas. I still get mad thinking about it, so I won't go into details except we were playing on a flatbed trailer and it was pouring down rain. All of a sudden the tarp above the bandstand broke and the whole band was flooded with water. Obviously we quit playing and we were freezing. The National Guard was helping out on this gig, and told us that there was no way we could leave because the roads(paths) out of the area were basically turned to swamps. I can remember shivering, cursing and wondering how I ever got into this mess. I have never seen so much mud and of course I was covered from head to toe by the time I had all my gear packed up .We thought there was a break in the weather so our band crawled into the back of an old troop transporter and we tried to tow one of our vehicles behind it to try and get to the main highway about a mile away. We finally made it and instead of towing the vehicle behind us, we were literally dragging this car sideways at times through all the mud (no the car didn't make it)....Just try and vision your equipment,steel, seat, amp , everything (including yourself) covered with mud & freezing in the pouring rain. We were dropped off at an old gas station and I managed to get all my stuff home, just to spend the next few days sick as a dog and trying to clean my equipment. Fortunately, I saved it all including myself. This my friends, was the worst of worst gigs.

I have soooo many bear tales about stuff what we done to each other over the years. We had a blind German feller drumming for us for several years, man he was a good drummer, looking back I am so ashamed of some of the things we done to him that I will not post them.

And, if I was to tell you the good stuff, you'd all call me a liar anyways....

But, just one tale, we was playing USO shows and fronted for Tammy Wynette once, we had to set up out of her bands way and were waiting for her to complete a sound check. She finished, we were goin' out to do our thang when our lead singer said something about (how do I put this delicately) comparing the feminine endowments between Tammy and Dolly Parton.... She heard it, and she fired our @$$e$ right on the spot. It was a rather short gig, and we had a hard time earning a reprieve from the USO....

I could go on but I'll spare you all.

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"Stump" Reeves


<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR="#8e236b"><p align=CENTER>[This message was edited by David Reeves on 08 March 2003 at 04:51 AM.]</p></FONT>

Paul

The same thing happened to me the first time I played on TV back in the early 50's. They didn't have all of the fancy "stuff" they do now-days. Everything was "live." Anyhow, everything checked out fine before we went on the air, but in the middle of the first song, when it was my turn to play.......no sound. Someone off camera had un-plugged my amp for some unknown reason. Needless to say, I got a "rush", and was quite embarrased. I would have to say that was my worst playing experience.... ever. They did fix it after the first song was over, and the rest of the show went off without any problems.

Happy pickin......Harry

There wasn't much humor in this one. One busy Saturday nite in a club in Vancouver, we got a bomb threat and had to evacuate the club into the pouring rain outside while they checked it out. They let us back in and when the nite finished, I went to talk to the sound man and discovered a guy had his jugular cut with a broken glass. They had him standing up and with a rag around his neck. I went home, woke up the wife and talked for a few hours about that one.

I can't tell you about the worst one - it would be offensive to a race of people (I'm serious), but I'll tell you about another. How I got into this is not important - let's just say that it was a "favor".
I went with a bunch of guys that had stabbed around for years at trying to have first one band, and then another together. Nothing ever worked out very well for any of them, and I'm sure that by now you can figure why.
Four sets at a V.F.W. - We played the first one, and I don't think that we did anything right in anything. Somewhere in the second set, we did "Green Green Grass Of Home" - in 3/4 time. That's O.K. though, as in the third set, they did "I Always Get Lucky With You", and tried their damnedest to do that in 4/4. In the last set, the "singer" was going to do something, I don't remember what it was, but it was just an old 2/4 country song. Right before we started it, he turned around to the drummer and said "Speed it up a little bit - about 3/4 time!!".
This was just about ten minutes before the bartender and the commander got into a fistfight. The bartender knocked the commander out and left, the one waitress was drunker than 700 dollars, the cops came and shut the joint down, and guess who didn't get paid - although I did get paid later. I could haved lived with ALL of that for the sake of being done with the whole mess, but of course it didn't end there. Before I could go home, I ended up having to go to the "gay" bar next door - going from table to table to find out which one of THEM cats owned the black B.M.W. that had my old Ford truck blocked in!
Oh well - it's like a man once said. "This is the best life I've ever lived! Hell, all I do is have fun - and they're payin' me for that!"

Jimmie

The "Mud" gig and the "Jugular" one brought back some more buried memories, as well as the blind drummer..

Danny was blinded just after birth when a nurse replaced boric acid with HCL. I played with him for a couple years. He was afraid of heights. While playing a free OSP Prison gig in 86 it was a hot miserable day. Some guy ODD on heroin on friday nite, and because of some guard conflict they had left him to stink in his cell till monday. It was Sunday Afternoon, and over 100f. They had set us up a band riser about 12 feet up. The drum riser was even higher. Danny always trusted me. when he felt the end of the way too shallow drum riser, he kind of freaked out. Not having his cane he couldn't check to see how far it was. I told him it was 2 feet,and to MAKE SURE he didn't scoot his chair back. I'm glad he listened to me. That was the last Prison gig we did.

Wet? Well nothing like the "jeep" gig, but we played a Robinhood Festival one July where it rained like a cow on a flat rock. The bandstand had a "moat" around it, and I looked up at the tarp over the bandstand, and it was bulging downward. We emptied it and shorted out Ronnie's old Standel. ( One of the pre 3000$ models)

Cold? Well I played a halloween gig at a Mule farm in Battleground. I was dressed in Drag. It got really cold, and while waiting for people to show up we all huddled around a "smudge pot". Couldn't feel my fingers after the first song, and the coffee would't stay hot long enough for me to use it to unthaw them. Then the "hostess" went all nutso because nobody showed up, and them that did didn't like her, grabbed a mike and told everybody how much she hated them, while I sat freezing in my dress. We waited til midnite, tore down and finally her dad came out and paid us.

I'm NEVER going to wear another summer dress to an outdoor gig..

The colors weren't right for me anyhow.

I played about 30 years before I did my "most miserable gig". In fact, it was only a few years ago...excuse the length of my elaboration....

At first, I thought it would be great...I was playing (sitting in, actually) with a young local (who shall remain nameless because I like the guy), and we were the warm-up band for a ton of big stars...Collin Raye, Martina Mcbride, Diamond Rio, LeeAnn Rimes...you get the picture. The gig was outdoors...at an airport, with an expected crowd of 30,000-50,000 people.

Oh yeah...it was in August.

Now, I don't have to tell you, there <u>ain't</u> much shade at the average airport! This one was certainly no exception. By 11:00am, it was 90 degrees, and by showtime it was 97.

The setup was like this, we were to go on at 3:00, so we had to be there by 1:30 for a sound-check. As usual, I was there a couple hours early (11:30am). We (my wife and I) zig-zagged through the parking lot, and the gathering throngs of people, and drove right up to the stage...it was huge. Anyhow, I get out of the car to unload (remember...I'm only 15 feet from the stage), and this guy ("Security something" runs up to me. "You can't unload now!" he says. "The tour busses are coming in!" (Heaven forbid they should have to be parked within sight of a "local" picker.) I say..."Look SIR..I can have this stuff unloaded and on the stage in 3 minutes!". He says..."No way! You gotta leave NOW, and come back after they're all here and unloaded". At this point, I started to get a <u>reeealll baaadddd</u> feeling about this gig. In fact, I was beginning to remember why I've quit playing music so many times.

Anyhow, I get back in the car, and drive about 500 yards away to "await the prima-donnas". Half-an-hour goes by...then an hour...then two. FINALLY, the "stars" get there. The busses roll in about 1:45...and they just sit there...nobody moves to mount the stage, or unload gear. After wondering if I was the only sane one in the world, I go up and ask this clown Barney Fife...er...uh, excuse me, "Mr. Security"..." Hey pal...if I don't unload this stuff <u>real damn soon</u>, I ain't playin' today...comprendez???"

After a long pause, he says..."Okay, you can bring up your car and unload, but then you got to take your car back to general parking", which is only a short plane ride from the stage. All this crap despite there still being enough room behind the stage area to park 75 semi-trailers! (Remember, we're at an airport.) Anyhow, I hump the stuff onto the stage, and drive just a few thousand yards to park the car. Wifey is melting, and I'm "burning".

Somehow, I get back to the stage, and we all set up, and we do sound-checks for another half-an-hour...on stage in front of the aforementioned 30,000 people. When we finally do play, the balance is terrible, pathetic, ridiculous, unfathomable. All I could hear was the bass guitar and the cymbals. I was never so aggravated and frustrated,and ashamed in my whole life. But by this time, people are dropping like flies from heat-stroke (Wifey and I aren't far from that ourselves.). I'm guessing the crowd was all either half-baked, or half-drunk anyway. Meanwhile, all the "stars" sit comfortably in their air-conditioned Prevosts. Of course, everyone else is sweltering, the binding's peeling off my guitar, and my sunburned nose looks like Santa's favorite reindeer's.

So...we start an hour late, and finish an hour late. We were supposed to play from 3:00 to 4:00, but it ends up closer to 4:00 to 5:00. When we're through, I'm drained, wifey is fadin' fast, and it's announced the "big show" will start about 6:30. Needless to say we had <u>no intentions</u> of staying there any longer than it took me to load up and haul asterior outa' there.

At the time, it seemed like a really terrible experience. But now that I've had a few years to think about it and ponder it...

It still was. <FONT SIZE=1 COLOR="#8e236b"><p align=CENTER>[This message was edited by Donny Hinson on 08 March 2003 at 02:38 PM.]</p></FONT>

Steel playing in Chicago has almost disappeared completely. So I got a call for a gig one day and was totally excited about it. Great! The band sent me a CD and I learned all the tunes (pretty basic stuff). I get to the gig and the lead guitar player doesn't show up. The band leader tells me, "Mark, I guess you will have to take all the leads." I am thinking...This is going to be great. Most of the tunes just had little fills here and there and mainly had this lead guitar player showing off all over the tunes. We do sound check and I am feeling pretty good. We leave the gear set up on the stage and go sink a few beers at the bar. The room starts to get filled up with people. Then the owner tells us to take the stage, but we need to pay the sound man before he can turn on the PA system. He gets $200 a night, so in order for us to play we need to cough up $200. I was just a hired guy, so there was no way I was digging into my wallet. The band leader says "I can't stand this stuff” and tells the band he is leaving and for us to pack up and head home! Damn!!! One of the few steel gigs in Chicago and the band packs up and leaves! I tore down the Sho~Bud and headed home. My night of playing solo's on every song was gone.

BTW...pay to play is also a big problem in Chicago.

Mark


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Sho~Bud Pro I, Fender D-8 (C6&E13) http://www.darkmagneto.com

Pay to Play..

Only had one instance of that in Elko Nev at the Stockmans.

We were to have to pay for motel rooms in advance.

I refused, and made a "Buckaroo Camp" under an old drum riser I leaned up against the wall backstage. I cooked on a hotplate I got from Tex the Swamper in the dressing room. It was 10-20 below zero that two weeks, and one night, it had been really cold, and the backstage furnace vent hadn't worked real well. The hot plate was in the corner of the full length mirror. About halfway through the can of Chow Mein heating there was a BIG EXPLOSION. The Whole 4 by 10 foot mirror shattered. It was from the heat in the corner from the hot plate. I paid for it, and it was cheaper than I thought. About 70$. Lots less then the rooms would have been.

A couple years ago the local truck stop held a "Band Showcase" with a 50$/band "fee" to "cover expenses. Luckily every band refused.

It resurfaced this year as a "competition" using band nights for "competing bands" to play. Some of the "less attentive" bandleaders got shorted a sets' worth of wages for the whole band on those nights. Our Bandleader, Monty Moss came out of his pocket and paid all of us, much to his credit, when the "enemy band" didn't show and we were still clipped.

There's never any shortage of will on clubowners' part to get free entertainment, especially when you're dealing with a "corporate entity".

SHeesh..<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR="#8e236b"><p align=CENTER>[This message was edited by Eric West on 08 March 2003 at 02:58 PM.]</p></FONT>

My worst gig was around 1982, during the urban cowboy craze. It started with a phone call. "Is this Mike the steel pedal guitar player?" I should have realized right then that the guy didn't know what he was doing or talking about, but dumb me, I said yes. "Well, my name is (I forgot) and I'm with the band Pegasus, and we have both afternoon and evening gigs this weekend. Are you free?" I said I was. and agreed to do the gigs. at which point he said "I have to tell you, we're all gay and we're playing in gay bars." I told him that i was not gay but he said it didn't matter. (And in fact it didn't.)

Now I don't care what people do in private, and the money was pretty good, so I still agreed to do the gigs. The first was from 4 to 6 in the afternoon at one bar, then 8 to 12 at another, both days. The guy asked if I would meet with the band around noon and go over a few tunes with them. I agreed.

So I get to the guys house and meet him and 2 other guys, and discover that one of the guys played a little piano, neither of the other 2 guys played any kind of musical instrument, and none of them had ever performed in public before. Furthermore, they just got together and had not worked up any kind of harmonies or vocal arrangements.

I knew it was going to be a disaster, but I already gave my word, so I went along. Needless to say the "rehearsal" was a fiasco, but the guys assured me that the bass player and drummer, who were not there, were real pros and the gig would be OK.

So we get to the gig, and the bass player and drummer- 2 lesbians- showed up, and like the guy said, they were both experienced pros who knew what they were doing. The bass player, who was also a fine singer, quickly sized up the situation and took control of the gig, leaving the 3 guys looking stupid on stage, but between her and the drummer and me, we made acceptable music. The first set went off far better than I had expected.

After the first set the bass player/singer started drinking. She told me she liked my steel playing and asked me to join her band. I told her that I'd be more than happy to play for her any time she needed me, but that I preferred to free lance rather than commit to any one band.

Her response was to sneer that I wasn't going to pull my own weight she had no use for me. I walked away.

The second set went off OK. Since I had to pack up and set up again, I immediately broke down my gear and headed off to the other club without saying much to anybody.

I got to the other club between 6:30 and 7 and set up my gear. shortly thereafter the guys arrived. 7:30- no sign of the women. 7:45- 7:50- Finally about 5 to 8 they show up. By now the bass player is stinking drunk. Reeking. Amazingly, she can still sing and play halfway decently. Not as well as earlier in the day, but not too bad.

But if her musicianship had not been significantly altered by the alcohol, her personality had been. She was quite abusive toward the guys, although she didn't hassle me. In fact she didn't talk to me at all, which was just fine as far as I was concerned. But after the second set I overheard her screaming at the club owner " THIS IS MY GIG NOW. YOU PAY ME!!!"

At that point I went up the they guy who first called me and told him that HE was the contractor, it was his responsibility to get the money, and it was his responsibility to make sure that I got my share of it. he agreed, despite being totally intimidated by the bass player.

In the middle of the last set, she said she wanted to sing Me and Bobby McGhee, and I asked is she was going to do it the Kris Kristofferson way or the Janis Joplin way. Her response to me was- and this is an exact quote: "Shut up and play."

I walked off the stage. The only time in my life I've ever done that.

The guys canceled the next day's gigs. I never saw any of them of the bass player again, but I did work with the drummer (who was cool) again a year later.

Weeeeelll lets see.
Recently : Ullian irish piper not wanting to bring his pa to irish bar, me sitting in with one rehearsal the night before, replacing his guitarist, and also playing lapsteel by request, for no reason I can imagine.
The mandolinist playing my mando with a pickup using my 2nd bass amp to hear.
Piper using guitar amp... behind his two mic's.He has the biggest right foot stomp I have ever heard. One guy at the bar told me in all seriousness that our drummer couldn't keep time... we had no drummer.
6 minutes between song medalies, while the drone pipes keep ringing, as piper dithers about next song.
Oh yes, he can't remember his forms.. with his charts in front of him. Kicks off marked 9/8 in 2/4.
aah ha. I also had to tune the Supro to his drones... this is NOT recomended!
I have never cleared an irish bar in my life ... I never thought it was possible.

How bout the one : At drummers cousins wedding, while sight reading Moon River and trying to read the the list for the bridal dance. I announced that someone who boycotted the wedding, get up to dance with someone... who had been ~dead for 10 years....

A flutter birds wings to my right arrived to yell at me. I had read the card verbatim. I finally yelled to the piano "Left Hand". Stopped playing and renarrated the dialog in my ear. We then started to do the song from the top.
a 1 and a 2 ( Slap! FnB, crash )It seems the younger brother of the groom had taken "something" before the service that was kicking in big time. He had changed from the peach colored tux for the bridal party into torn blue jeans and a numbered prison workshirt. No bridal photos for him.. Well a dim bulb had decided his girlfriend should also not be in the pics in her expensive peach dress... because "it would not be symetrical" So SHE was cut out of the photos too. She was not amused.
At moon river, count 2, she slapped him so hard he yelled unprintable stuff, fell over and knocked the gift table over. (3 and a 4 )

All heads lookin left. Well a bartender had a bottle of champaigne, stage right, he was so shocked at the sounds from 70' away stage left he dropped the bottle... band looks right at 4 and... 1, 1 who's got the one... nobody. Went south from there.
And I can't forget the drummer walking up to the band to say hi from the audience in the middle of the set ?? He had let his 400 lb uncle sit in, without mentioning this to the band.
Well uncle was ok on drums, we hadn't noticed the change, but when I looked back to see who was on drums, uncle waves and at that instant snaps the drumstool seat off the legs permanently and put an elbow through the snare head.

When we thanked the brides parents at the end of the afternoon, the trumpet was so drunk he went to shake and fell off the 2" stage and fell down, face up, between the brides mothers legs. I kissed her hand, after we picked him up. But the guitarist down the line looked her straight in the eyes and licked her hand....
Her response "Oh you can do that."
I can go on... but won't.

With steel it has to be the country band booked into a Provincetown Cape Cod gay disco by mistake. Thanks to the booking agents secretary not having 1/2 a clue.
Electric dance floor and everythang!
Onnly my 2nd night with the band. We did a set that really was not appreciated, so at the break we were asked, forcefully, to play one good dance song for a few minutes.
Myself, the drummer and steel player did a 10 minutes version of She's a Brick House; 150 people suddenly dancing, smilling; Cool.
Steel even had some of the horn lines!

Until the "lady bandleader" drunk as a lord at this point came up and kicked the Emmons D-10 over END WISE.. because we weren't playing country and she didn't know the chords, all 4.
Drum & bass fired for playing 10 minutes of dance music by request of club management.
The steel quit and sent a bill for $300 work on the steel, was stiffed, and then sued and won $1000 damages plus $350 repair costs. I had to testify too. Seemed like that night ran on for months.
Our band leader ; She was a whiskey baritone/ semitenor and her old man, the guitarist, was a bad tenor, minus the top 4 notes. They were good for about a 5th of Seagrams on any given night.
They used a shoebox filled with file cards for the mobious loop of sidemen who could only handle a few days with them and need to be replaced while they recovered.

My 1st gig with them, 1st song, no rehearsals; She called "hey did you happen to see the most beautifull girl in the world" hands the card to Gt., him to drummer, him to steel. well the count started with the guitarist handing off the card.
Steel get's it and drops it under C6 strings, fishes it out, breaking the high string with his ring, and hands it toward me, and drops it on 1. Steel is now quite ot of tune.
I get it off floor see D, I go to put in on my amp and hit a D wondering what the next chord might be. It falls off the Amp and under the wheeled cabinet. Steel comes in with the intro, in Db augmented 14.
That was the beginning of a VERY long night.

And not to be forgotten the Turtle Lounge :
double chicken wire in front of band, clear raincoats provided, goggles optional.
Electrician comes and grounds the amps to the AC and the PA, with an eletric drill for a sheet metal screw hole in the amps chassis ; for no extra charge. And of course a 3 x 9 trough with a railing and catch panels on the sides, in front of the chicken wire to catch the bottles. Wheeled out an emptied after 2nd set.

I got more... but I'm getting angina already
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR="#8e236b"><p align=CENTER>[This message was edited by David L. Donald on 12 March 2003 at 03:27 PM.]</p></FONT>

Hey, guys: This thread has precipitated a lot more hilarious “miserable” experiences that I expected when I started it. I’m still laughing after the third or fourth reading of some of the experiences you guys have had. Many non-musicians think the music business is 100% fun 100% of the time, and the above stories are proof of the fallacy in that kind of idealistic thinking.

I wish I could count the number of times someone has said to me, “If I could play like that I would never work another day the rest of my life.” One incident comes to mind when I was about two years into the business professionally. An elderly great uncle of mine operated an automotive junk yard in Becker, Mississippi. The first time he heard me play steel he said, “Boy, bring that thing down to my junk yard. I’ll bet I can get a dozen people there, and we’ll charge them a dime apiece!”

I had a couple more miserable experiences to report, but they can’t compete with those above. Let’s keep the thread going a few more days; I’m really enjoying these stories.

Roy

For me,the astro hall"79"outside in the
parking lot in 30degree winds and feezing rain.It was so cold I had to cut the fingers
off my gloves and use my picks with the gloves on.We had one heater that only kept
half the stage warm,and it sure wasn't on
my side!Still an interesting gig.