Now I report a quirk oddball foible peculiarity. Y’day I arrived early for bingo to test the new drum box through my PA system in readiness for the 17th. The regulars were buttressing the bar, and the relaxed holiday also brought in the entire social committee from the Moose an hour early. They were not at their usual tables, but instead congregated around the front entrance gambling machines.
I twirled the knobs, which go up to 11 by the way, then hauled out my bass and played along. That means just my vocals, the electric bass and the drum box. Sure, I never let anyone forget that I bust my backside to make my show “live”, but this is the first time I necessarily had to do it solo with no backing tracks and no Robynette singing. You decide what to make of what happened next.
The tip jar was jammed with cash. I had to stare to see. These are the regulars, who know my show by heart and could be expected to recognize the guitar parts were missing. And they loved it. I don’t usually say, but by playing what I had prepared—which amounts Jag’s set list—I pulled in $56. That, peeps, makes my week. Wait, there’s more.
The Moose people sat down as I hauled out the bingo cage. It transpires that the show had sounded so real that they had not realized I was performing alone despite the fact they were bopping along and applauding. They were taken aback when the crowd informed them it had been me playing. Too bad I’d already put away the bass. This augers well for the future. That Moose is famous for paying handsomely.
Just y’day I declared I’d switch to acoustic if this new guitarist didn’t work out. Then something like this goes and occurs. Unmistakably, if I can put on such a show with the bass, I’ll have to take back what I said. There is no way I would have hauled in $56 in one hour strumming, and as a matter of fact, very few guitarists pay that for standing in. No names mentioned.
As a backup plan, should I expand this repertoire to a full gig? Just in case, I mean. Then I would truly have no competition as there is vastly more to the deed than cranking out studio lines. Bass soloing does not work that way and right now I doubt there is a guitarist in town who could duplicate the feat. No sirree. Try it and he’ll bore the crowd even if they figure out what he’s playing. What have I chanced upon here? Should I focus again on bass?
The sammyzonk is a hit. So, where can I go with that? Sammyzonk is the noise Sammy makes, which I told you I made into a ditty, matching “Shave and a Haircut” on August 21 last. Well, it is so distinctive that I’m digging out my old idea for a remake of “Tequila”. In mid or late 2003, I was on the verge of recording a comedy version using one of those weird Latin accordions that sounds differently depending on if you are pushing or pulling the bellows. Two things stopped me. The instrument was expensive, and my very first heart attack.
Here’s where your imagination comes in. Instead of the squeezebox, we have the sammyzonk doing the shuffle, see? Then, make it into a 12-bar blues, so it isn’t so far between each chant. I made up a list of 40 words that ended in the “Ah” sound, alas, I lost the original. So instead of just “tequila”, I have a crowd of drunks (and I know just where to find one) intone the words. Except, ahem, they don’t know each list is slightly different. Opa Locka, Coca-Cola, marijuana, etc.
While I’m being ridiculous intentionally, how about the crazy woman who lives here? She is convinced the neon bulbs in the washroom cause schizophrenia. Like all the untutored, she has tough opinions about only those things which cannot be tested or measured. Remember, this is the broad who e-Harmony gave the heave-ho. That is correct, she filled out the application listing her good points and describing what she expected from a man. The only escort she got was off the premises. She’s lucky they didn’t call 911. Now, I warn all guests not to stand too close to the vanity rack lest they catch the “schizo-moany”.
