jam at jeff's

I traveled to Tecumseh yesterday afternoon to visit some friends. Plus, I needed to get out of the house and my son was begging for a few hours of "alone time" with his aunt's Wii. A couple of weeks ago there was a rumour floating 'round that one of these friends had died, so I was especially grateful to see him.

I had planned to take this trip about this time last week. I called my brother and asked if he had any plans to hang out, as he does go there every other week or so. He said that he was thinking about it, which means "yeah, I'll probably be there."

Then I talked to him a couple of days later and he told me that Jeff (our resurrected host) was going to have a cook-out (it turned out not to be Jeff's idea, as I later learned, but hey, it's free hot dogs and burgers, beer, soda pop, chips...all that rot). This news lessened my enthusiasm for attending, as I haven't not been in the mood for such shindigs since 1985. I had to weigh out the pros and cons, and the cons were in the lead.

Then I find out, the day before the whole she-bang, that the guys in my brother's band are going to be there, that a full-out jam was being planned. That information tipped the "pro's and con's" scale significantly in the territory of the latter. It wasn't so much that I was against playing music (although I would have preferred a nice, round-table guitar sing-a-long to the loud, amplified full-on affair that happened).

But the real deal was that I had no desire whatsoever to meet the guys in the band that I didn't already know. I didn't want to meet them, I didn't want to meet their wives/girlfriends, I didn't want to meet their children and I didn't want to meet their friends.

I got lucky, and was able to skirt around any introductions. I stayed mainly with Jeff's wife, Reita, and a couple of guys who I really enjoy hanging with, Dave and Teddy. At one point the three of us gentlemen went on a trip down "Test Road", and that is one of the reasons I feel like shit this morning (and I DO...).

I wound up playing the electric/acoustic guitar for about thirty minutes, and it was okay, just a little bit hard to be so close to such loud music.

I won't say anything awfully negative about the band. Obviously I think my brother, the drummer, is the stand-out member. I know the lead guitarist fairly well and he's quite talented. Other than that, they are a mediocre lot. I won't say they are all shitty musicians, because they're not too bad on that front. But good Lord, the list of songs they do is filled with nothing but old, old, old songs. Now I like old songs as much as the next guy, but they must have played 4 Merle Haggard songs back-to-back. I'd never heard any band do Johnny Cash's "I Still Miss Someone" until yesterday. And the guy who sings this stuff doesn't use his own singing voice, but instead trys to imitate the original singer, like some third rate impressionist on the bill at a music hall in Branson, Missouri.

These guys are not destined to go much further than the dive bars around their home town. My brother realizes this, and only plays with them for the money, because there are practically no opportunities in these parts for a drummer to find paying work in a decent band. Furthermore, they apparently don't know the difference between a "jam session" and a "rehearsal session". This was a cook-out, for chrissakes, there were people there, lounging back in lawn chairs, eating grilled meat and drinking Coronas...I have no doubt that these people wanted to hear some music. I also feel comfortable in postulating that they DIDN'T want to hear the songs break down and the guys try to figure out what went wrong, then start the song over, play it till it broke down again and repeat the process three or four times. A "jam session" does not require perfection. Even if it did, these ole boys are so far from the hope for "perfection" that they might as well just roll with the flow.

They did not, however, "roll with the flow", although I don't doubt that the song of that name is in their vast repertoire of arcane country and western chestnuts. As part of the "Merle-a-thon" they did "Silver Wings...can you believe that? How easy is that? But it WASN'T easy with these folks, because they play it in the key of E (everybody knows that "Silver Wings" is in D, just like everyone knows that there are few musicians in these parts of the woods who aren't sick to death of that song). Who knows why they make it so hard on themselves with the different key. I suspect it has something to do with the vocal range of the "Rich Little of Oklahoma Country Music".

The hootenanny was still going strong when I left. After that trip down Test Road there was no way I was going to drive home in the dark, so that was part of the reason I chose to leave when I did. Jeff sent me on my way with a little "somethin' somethin'" and the rest of the evening was smooth sailing.

A price was paid, however, for all the munchies I consumed. And everybody knows that when that condition comes around you have no control over the amount of food you consume, or the off-the-wall (often disgusting) combinations of food that get crammed down the gullet. I had already eaten a #1 Value Meal from Sonic (mustard cheeseburger, no onions, Sonic Size tater tots and a large Dr. Pepper). As the afternoon progressed, I also devoured half a bag of Jalapeno Cheddar flavored Cheetos (oh, man, those are GOOD) and two slices of this absolutely delicious chocolate fudge cake. Just to give you an idea of how tasty it was, I normally do not eat cake. But this mofo was decorated so well, with the cherrys and the sliced almonds on the side, that I could not resist.

A little more than an afternoon snack, when you take into consideration the sheer volume of the edibles I ingested. But I think it was the "late dinner" that took my gastrointestinal system for a ride in the wee hours of the night. Basically, it consisted of a "king size" Hershey's dark chocolate candy bar and about half a container of small curd cottage cheese. I was already full by the time I'd finished a few bites of the cottage cheese, but I must have been possessed, I could not stop eating it.

As I mentioned, it all took it's toll at around 4:00 in the morning. A couple swigs of Pepto Bismol seemed to help, but not enough to pull me through this woozy ordeal. My head was pounding and I knew it would be a long time getting back to sleep (even if I did, it would come in fits and starts). I finally roused myself at 9:00 o'clock...it's 10:30 now, and the pain is just now beginning to subside

Other than that, I guess I had a pretty good time, rotten band and all. It's fun to sit around the house with Reita when March Madness is in full swing. I don't think I've ever known anyone who loves college basketball as much as she does. She takes off whole days at work so she can keep up with the tournament. It's infectuous. I normally could care less about practically any sport, basketball included. But watching it with her is actually a lot of fun.

Jeff has never been anything less than a true gentleman. The longer I know him the more I respect him...I sure am glad he was still alive! Ha! That whole thing will be the crux of many a joke in the future, I assure you.

Dave and Teddy are cool as hell. Sometimes you have to invest some work into getting a friendship off the ground. But sometimes you are introduced to people who you immediately click with and feel comfortable around. Both Teddy and Dave are like that.

My brother was too busy setting up his drums to be very sociable (fuckin' drum set must have taken at least 2 hours to set up yesterday). Roger and LaHonda made themselves scarce (most likely jabbering with the band guys, who all live in the same general area). A friendly word of greeting to the brother's wife and older daughter and I was able to keep my own social skills virtually untested. I did, however, enjoy seeing my brother's youngest daughter. She was cute as hell, and remarkably intelligent for a 2 year old. I mean, her use of grammar and ability to form sentences and respond to others was uncanny.

So that was my day. Not the best. Not the worst. I'm sure there will be many more cook-outs and jams to be had at Jeff's. But I'm also reasonably sure that by the time he has another one my bro will have moved on and left the musical bozos he's with now. I don't think I will ever have to endure them again (now that I think about it, it's very likely the "impressionist vocalist" that sours me on the whole lot of 'em...but that it do).