It’s a stellar, sunny Sunday morning in the Ozarks; calm and cool after the flood. Coffee tastes better with the windows open. I just listened to James Blood Ulmer’s version of “Fattening Frogs For Snakes”. That may be the perfect blues song, by the way.
It took me a long time, to find out my mistakes
Took me a long time, to find out my mistakes
(it sho’ did man)
But I bet you my bottom dollar, I’m not fattenin’ no more frogs for snakes
I’ve got this playlist on my Windows Media Player that has a bunch of stuff I ripped from CD’s, from my archives so to speak; Skip James, Sonny Boy’s 1&2, Roy Buchanan’s “Country Preacher”, Leon Russell “Shootout At The Plantation”, Mike Bloomfield, B.B. King, Rory Gallagher’s “I Could Have Had Religion”, the Faces, Blind Willie McTell “East St. Louis Blues”. I got my own private Sunday morning, Maxwell Street thing going on.
Still haven’t heard if we are going to make up the Firefall show this evening. The event will happen but, it’s a question of logistics at this point. They are cutting the event in half and the coordinators are coordinating as we speak. It’s a deal where we get paid either way but, I’d like to go play.
Thinking about that, got me to thinking that it’s been a long time since Ive played a Sunday gig. The Sunday gig has gone by the wayside for the most part. Used to be that most towns had at least one place that had something going on, usually starting in the afternoon sometime. There was always food involved; a lot of times it was a “bring a dish” kind of thing. It was eat, dance, maybe a little hair of the dog and go home early to rest up for the work week.
The music was always a little looser at Sunday gigs but, in a good way. A lot of these things were jam sessions hosted by a band. So, you would try things that weren’t a regular part of the rehearsed program.
Back when I was doing the endless tour, there were places that we would hit on our way the next week’s gig. Sometimes they were gigs the we booked for pay, sometimes they were places we would drop in, play a couple tunes, engage in rare musician fellowship and get back on the highway.
These gigs were more about community. It was part of the culture to have a place where people would gather once a week and music was a big part of it.
There are places that still have a Sunday get together but, not like it was. Every small town had a Sunday gig and, in the cities, there was something in every neighborhood.
Too many commitments and too little time; that’s where everybody is at these days. A lot of good things get lost in the shuffle. But, we’re missing the boat when we let the after Church, V.F.W. barbecue, jam session at the tavern, pot luck dinner, dance and bring the kids, Sunday afternoon affair get away from us.
An absolutely gorgeous, sunny, Sunday morning in the Ozarks. My birthday actually, 44 years old-not old for a tree as they say. They also say that you are only as old as you feel. I feel….about 42, I guess.
As I was perusing through the newly written blog selections, that come to my attention, in the morning, courtesy of the old Google reader, I found that my friend, Mr. President, at Textual Relations, had bestowed me with this honor.
Thanks Pres, it’s always nice to be recognized for Excellence. By always, I mean that it’s never happened to me before and I’m giddy; just giddy!.
I have been advised that, as the receiver of this honor, I must comply with strict blogging statutes-the “Share the Love” and the “Promote Your Fellow Blogger” statutes that appear prominently in the code of conduct.
To this end, it is my honor to bestow Excellence on these ten fellow bloggers. And, it is now their duty to do the same.
Recent Comments