The year in review

Here now it's the cusp of the 21st-22nd of December, and it's time to take a somewhat critical look at what's been accomplished since the 4th of July holiday when we first landed on the shores of Cabo Loco. I remember it was hot. We had our moments even though we were a bit shaky. Janice hadn't been contacted yet, but her email address was burning a hole in my back pocket. The book was about half its present size and twice the irony.

Who knew we could pull this off? Whatever makes musicians get up on stage and open a vein for all to hear? I used to have an answer to that one, but I lost it along the way. We have done great with Gigmasters referrals. We've done less than great by our own efforts, althouth http://originalrecipeband.com is ours and we have some pretty nice looking business cards, especially considering they were made on an $80 printer.

There have bumps in the road. The club I was sure we could take over for our purposes was nearly run out of business by the owner. We filled it up the one evening we played there, making a point that was hardly noticed by the snoozing owner. Just about every month we returned to Cabo Loco and ripped up the house.

The biggest bumps in the road were personnel related. I found I had a talent for firing people. In one unforgettable instance one of the players took an argument downstairs to a loading dock where the rest of the guys (except for me, upstairs sweating out the PA) were loading up. He then started sending up feelers for a pitchfork rebellion, including to my brother. Well, this is my project and they knew it. Some of them called me the morning after and asked me to fire him. So I did. I believe the total is three now.

Now the party house in San Antonio was the scene of another gig on the 17th. They love us there because we control the volume and we love working for them because, frankly, they give a shit. At the end of the night Andrew was talking about builing a stage and a dance floor on the beautiful grounds and booking us as often as there are events.

So we're poised for greatness in 2005. Absolutely.

Better and better: A short band party in San Antonio

Last night was yet another turning point, another rung in the ladder, another metaphor in the grist mill.

We got an emergency call through Gigmasters to play a lady's husband's 40th birthday party in San Antonio. There wasn't enough budget to include everybody so I represented the horn section. Good thing too. We were wedged in a hallway . . .

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

San Antonio is about an hour and 10 minutes as long as your destination is right next to the freeway. Anything else is a real crap shoot. So we traded emails. Turns out the party was to be held in a wonderful old mansion in one of the old suburbs within San Antonio. Oak trees in a park-like setting was what I remembered. (We played a gig last year that was thrown by the owner of the Spurs. He hired BB King to fly in with his full band.) So we planned a meeting to settle the contract and get the deposit. I went down in the morning, snooped around a couple pawn shops (nothing) and headed for the interior of San Antonio. When I found the house I was flabbergasted. At least an acre. Built I'd say originally in the twenties, a three story Georgian. Manicured grounds, getting all decked out with a crew of Christmas decorators.

The gal hiring us was friendly, though a little rushed because she'd just flown in from Canada and she only had a day to settle every detail of the party. I left a couple details up in the air so we could use flexibility to solve some logistical problems called for by the presence of gaming tables.

I got off to a late start on Saturday, with Leroy in the van and Jimmy following to test his van, which had just got $700 in repairs. I had hoped to go down in the afternoon, but alas it would not be. We left at 4:30. But the start wasn't until 8.

We set up in record time, no partygoers anywhere. Gradually the band trickled in. Bruce on bass, Javi and Janice carpooling. Just 6 of us. Head charts, fake books, and the charts with me playing tenor on the trumpet parts an octave higher than written. Guests begin to arrive about 7:45.

We start to notice that the party is overwhelmingly people of color, dressed to the nines. Yeah! We employ most of the standard first set tunes, carefully keeping a lid on the volume. Bruce sings "Girl From Ipanema" in its original Portugese. Janice explores "Preacher Man." Jimmy runs a string of Sinatras. We start noticing that, even as the party is drawn to the gaming, we are being well received. People are winking at us, offering us compliments. All this on the first set. Dinner is served on the first break. The bar is manned by a gentleman who knows only how to pour doubles. Everyone we run into is telling us how great the sound is. (Even though the sound is all coming out of a 15" monitor speaker under an end table.)

A little more volume in the next two sets, but we are still secondary to the gambling, which is fine with us. Playing soft and still meaning it is one of the hardest things for a musician to do, at least one with no big band experience. But we are doing it no problem. In the fourth set the gambling starts to fade in interest and suddenly we are the center of attention. Yeah baby--disco! We hit 'em with everything we've got. They know all the tunes and everyone is into the dancing all of a sudden. We are all too happy to oblige. Janice is belting them out. Javier does a killer version of "Tailfeather." Jimmy has some fun with "Wonderful World." We're about to sign off with a rousing reading of "Last Dance" as well, the last dance when we are offered mere money to continue with a half hour of overtime. We accept.

Understand that this is all taking place in a HALLWAY. A wide one, you understand, but a hallway nonetheless. We felt like a real part of the party.

There are gigs and there are gigs. Parties sometimes don't develop. The bar, the food, the entertainment. Very few parties hit on everything and I'd say this was one of the best planned and executed parties I've played, ever. We were proud to be a part of it. No problems with the bread either. Lovely people. We talk to one of the brothers who throws parties in the house and we're asked if we have anything on the 17th. We say no. He says he'll call us on Monday. His mother, who we gather lives in the upper floors of the house, comes up to me and says we were the best band ever to play there because we had such a wide variety. I could get used to this.

On the way home Leory and I are slapped with the big wet fish of reality as the van's rear passenger side tread separates on Interstate 35 about 10 miles short of home. We wait for AAA and by the time we head back it is 4:30 am.