Yeah, I'm seeing my name here too much, so I'm just adding where it is already,
and I've been thinking about bass and bassists, so here's my best bass experience.
When I saw McCoy Tyner in 1977, his "Atlantis" tour, the band was wearing dashikis, with afros,
but the bassist was playing a Fender electric through an amplifier onstage, almost in front of me.
When I saw McCoy Tyner standing at the end of the bar, pouring himself some orange juice, alone,
I went over and we ended up talking until he had to go back onstage, a very, very good night.
Going to St. Catharines for sign business, early 90's, I stopped in at The Club, a new effort by local musicians and artists.
A recording artist was behind the bar with Club supporters, discussing their business.
At the end of the bar, sitting all alone, with this man wearing what had to be a shiny green, silk suit,
looking fabulous, really, almost ethereal. I went over to say hi and sit beside him, wanting a pop.
As we got talking I said I recognize you, you played with McCoy Tyner in Toronto.
He wasn't coming out at me, so I described his bass and the amp and where he was standing.
He looked into me, and finally said you're right, my upright was stolen at the airport.
We got talking.
When I could see Club supporters were finishing their meeting, I stood up, and said,
it's hard to believe, but this man is one of the top five bassists in the entire world.
I saw him play with the best band I ever heard, McCoy Tyner's touring band for Atlantis.
My friends looked at me, like what, shaking their heads, but I said I'm serious, very serious.
A month later this bassist, Juni Booth, gave a sold-out solo performance in a loft down the street.
I paid to be there.
Maybe the next year, I got a phone call from Juni Booth, in Buffalo visiting a relative.
He said if I could pick him up and take him to Toronto for the DuMaurier Jazz Festival,
I could hang out with him as a signed in guest. I borrowed a new car from a friend.
As soon as we parked and stood on the sidewalk, a long Mercedes pulled over, saying get in.
It was one of the most famous jazz sax players and his band, doing a few puffs of weed.
It turned out they were the headliners, and had the best buffet.
Later on, in the executive lounge with organizers and entertainers, ow, it still hurts,
I was asked twice to jam along on guitar, but they were right-handed, and believe it or not,
I didn't even think about bringing my guitar. I still don't regret it.
There was a small crowd of jazz wannabes in St. Catharines who played in wedding bands,
polka bands, any band, or doing a gig using one of their names as self-promotion.
They never liked me, from Welland, so I stopped going to St. Catharines musician things.
There I was, walking on the other side of the velvet rope, with the headliners,
and these St. Catharines musicians were there in all their leather and lace clad glory.
They even waved at me, and one of them came over, so I was polite.
I learned circular breathing, letting you blow a non-stop note as long as you want.
I still press the palm of my hand to my mouth to practice that, and show off on harmonicas.
If you have trouble snorkeling, you probably can't do that.
When Juni was doing his first solo performance, he would gradually disappear behind his bass,
and all you could see was his hands, and then he'd stick his face out or something, very effective.
Seeing an upright bassist with that level of technique,
made me think his hands were like an auto body worker, very strong, very tough and thick skinned,
not the best way to be loverly.