Re: Gus Hate Me

["ChipComcast" <jandkday@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

 Haha!  M. N.   That is a tough situation to be in.  I always like the chick
who bangs a tambourine
during our set.  If someone did that in Bobby Bland's day they would wind up
in a dumpster!
    I think it' stems from the hippie/jam band thing.

I seen a guy right before he took his harp solo at an open mic soak it in
his beer then shake it everywhere.
  Really Cool Man...haha!
   Is it any wonder most other players are gun shy of harmonica players?

   Anymore Gig from beyound stories out there?  I could use a Monday am
laugh.

Jimmy


- ----- Original Message ----- 
From: "M. N." <mnessmith@xxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <harp-l@xxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Monday, September 22, 2003 9:09 AM
Subject: Gus Hate Me


>
> Friday night I had the pleasure to sit in with a friend's band at a nice
> room in the old section of Prague. Our first set was sitting down, playing
> acoustic - doing some Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Jimmy Rogers stuff.
> Great fun. After that, we cleared the chairs and took a quick break before
> coming back amplified with the horn section, etc. Rather than carrying my
> chair from the crowded stage, high over my head to avoid the drums and
> keyboard rig, I instead lowered it to the dance floor, figuring someone
> would pull it over to their table to accomodate a friend. Oops.
> After the break, we played a pretty strong second set with the full band,
> ending with "Sweet Home Chicago." About halfway through, Gus appeared. You
> know who I'm talking about. That's right, the dreaded Gus, complete with
> drunken stagger, "blues guy" hat, and crusty harp. He swayed below me on
the
> dance floor, waving a harmonica. I just looked down and nodded "nope." It
> wasn't my gig, I was just sitting in, so I wasn't about to let Gus come on
> stage (actually, I'd never let him up, even if it was my gig). But I'd
> forgotten about that chair I'd left down there. Before I knew what was
> happening, Gus used the chair to climb onstage, right in front of me,
> blowing like a madman (one who can't play). I stood up closer to him,
trying
> to crowd him, to block him from advancing on one of the vocal mics. So he
> cut to my left, trying to go around me. Seeing how easily he could knock
> over my little amp, the keyboard, or one of the guitar amps, I grabbed him
> by the arm - hard - and kept nodding NO. The harder I pulled, the harder
he
> pulled back. He broke free and darted finally to the vocal mic. Pissed
that
> security was nowhere to be found, and not wanting to make "too much" of a
> scene, I just grabbed his "blues guy" hat and tossed it into the crowd.
One
> of the sound guys finally appeared and had to strong-arm Gus off the
stage.
> As he did - in the words of Tennessee poet Charlie Daniels - I just
couldn't
> resist the fun: I planted a size-9 wingtip right in his ass. Gus added to
> the ambiance of the moment by remaining on the dance floor, cussing at me
in
> Czech, showing me his middle finger, and blasting as loud as he could.
> As I said to the rest of the band backstage, why the hell is it always the
> HARMONICA PLAYERS!?
> MN
>
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