What could have been a great night was almost ruined by two jerks, and I'll let you know which one got first prize.Before we get to that, let me back up a bit.
The Sunday night jam, started by Jimmy Rea about seven years ago,is a great place to test your material. Jimmy is usually joined by local legend Norman Jackson, and Chester Ellis, who couldn't make it that night.There is always a sign-up sheet, and Jimmy lets other musicians get up there for their proverbial fifteen minutes of fun and fame.
The whole thing started at 2PM yesterday and was kicked off with a four hour set by Triple Shot, a good cover band with a very good frontman(although he could use a triple shot of humility. He could have easily won A-hole of the night, but since he helped raise a lot of money, I'll cut him some slack, plus he put the whole thing together and brought in his own eqipment. However-he was doing the 50-50 thing, and asking for money every other 15 minutes.When you pay five bucks at the door , it wears a bit then as the night progresses, but his heart was in the right place and things got better after that...sort of.
Second place for A-hole of the night goes to an above average and quite entertaning guitarist.He was about six feet tall,and sported orange hair and shades, and looked like something out of the 80s New Wave era, so he gets points for his image.The problem was that he had the "me syndrome. " He completely took over the stage from two performers who had waited nearly six hours to play.One of them, ready to vocalize, told the other guitarists what he wanted to sing and in what key.Mr. holier-than-thou insisted on playing "his own stuff." As if that weren't bad enough, he refused to leave the stage after Jimmy told him that he should step down and give someone else a chance. He refused and went into the "let's let the crowd decide" spiel; you know, the usual "Come on, don't you want to hear some more because I'm astounding crap." Oh, it's gets better.
While all of this was going on, the sit-in drummer tried to pick a fight with someone in the crowd and it was broken up by one of the event staff, who should have seen this incident coming down fifth avenue.
Enter the veteran peace maker, Mr. Norman Jackson, who quickly told the rest of the band to go into "Sacred Ground." I had seen enough by then, so I slipped out.
Needless to say, the bad penny drummer winds the grand prize for B-hole: a trip to as far away from humankind as possible.You can't help but pity the man, but we innocent bystanders deserve to be protected.You'll know him when you see him, so avoid him like the plague.(Note-he lasted two weeks in a band called Tu Crow Willie.)
This is not to say you should not go to the jam at Dennis' Place next week! By all means, do! Bring whatever talent you have, but please leave your ego at home.
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