Use The Force, Luke!

another brief installment of how I put my years of classical musical training and education to good use:

Subject: Bass Guitarist - Ivory Tiger

Stratford Inn, Fenton MO Friday, February 17th

Geo was forced to work overtime, so at the last minute, they frantically called me to cover bass for him at the Stratford Inn in Fenton. Without hesitation I agreed. Good money, a new bar, and I enjoy playing bass once in a while, just for the novelty. Plus, the Ivory Tiger chaps are a pleasure to work with, so I knew it would be a good time.

As I understood it, they play to a Happy Hour crowd early, take a break, then play ‘til 12:30. Free food and beer. Hey! Now you’re talking. Good money, too. So much, the better.

I showed up a little after 5:30 to a PACKED house. I mean PACKED! Wow, happy hour! They did away with those in Illinois years ago. I'm sure it made sense back then.

It was bedlam in there. I set up the rig, and went searching for this free beer and food. Wes pointed me to the buffet set up in back, and said “just ask one of the bars for a beer. Tell ‘em you’re with the band”. I set towards the back and perused the buffet. About all I found appetizing were the sausage and kraut. I tried one of the burritos, and while it was eatable, all of it was kind of cold. I asked the gorgeous bar maid about the drink specials for the band, and while she admitted she didn’t know, she’d give me a bottle anyway. Sweet girl!

We fired off the “Happy Hour” set, and I was less than stellar. The “Force” was not with me, tonight, Obi-Wan. I’d played most of their songs before, so I had a rough idea what I was in for. But, I fumbled my way through, and certainly didn’t impress myself. With the addition of B.C. on drums in the band, he takes care of much of the harmony vocals that I would tend to add, so that allowed me to shut the hell up and try not to fuck up the bass lines too much. Not that it helped. Focus Daniel-san!

On our long break before the later part of the show, I learned that the “Happy Hour” buffet had been put away. Damn, I was hungry, even for cold sausage and kraut! There were also some questions about the status of our “free beer” as well. Jimmy B had alluded to the buckets of beer they brought them last show, but they weren’t there now. Rather than impose myself as some “rock star”, started to dig into my pocket and buy the rest of my beers. $3 a pop no less. I sat on the hour long break reading a new Zen book I’d picked up from Borders, smoked a cigar, and pounded my longnecks.

I did run into Kenny Pick, and old friend from the SoCo area, who would road trip to see Knucklehead shows. We rapped about he future of Knucklehead, Rock Bottom, and getting more gigs on his side of the river, in his neck of the woods. He bought me some beers, introduced me to some sweet gals, and we tossed back shots of Cabo Wabo tequila. Mas tequila!

The rest of my bass virtuosity through the course of the evening was unimpressive, but I got the job done, and we had a very warm response from the crowd. Many in attendance recognized the band when they opened up for Warrant at the Stratford, and all were overflowing with praise. One guy even had a big white sheet of paper, and asked for all our autographs! Lol! I’m not even in the friggin’ band! I almost signed it Geo Romer, just for yucks! Instead, I signed it “to Tom, why does this thing only have 4 strings?” I doubt he understood the joke.

The crowd thinned as the evening wore on, but there was no shortage of eye candy to gawk at. Some really good looking women at that bar, and many of them work there. They would jump up and dance on the bar when we’d play something that tickled their fancy. Bud Light sponsored a Rock/Paper/Sissor contest, and the Bud Light girls were, uh, smoking!

A rather forward blonde randomly started quizzing me about the band and the set list (and her husband quickly introduced himself, too…) and she hit me with an amazing question: what are your favorite songs? I was at a loss. I had to explain it wasn’t my band, and that I just played to fill in. So, she continued: what were my favorite songs then that we played. I was stymied. I had none. I guess that says something.

At the end, I quickly tore down, got paid, humbly thanked the boys for letting me fill in, and rushed home in the bitter cold evening. I stopped and had a beer at Eddie’s, and Katrina and Trish convinced me to grab a bite at Lisa’s. I hate Lisa’s! I did so grudgingly, and it was all I loathed it could be. Next time, it’s Waffle House for me, kids!