The Droll Files

11-20-02  Practice & The Gondolier of Tempe

Practice tonight for the Overtones at the band house.  Not much of interest really.  We all agreed we’d be there no later than 7:30.  This was a near guarantee that we’d be able to get started by at least 9 o’clock.  I long ago established a pattern of stopping at Tops Liquor prior to band practice to select a micro brewed six pack of some kind.  My personal goal was to get a different kind every week.  Tonight, in a strange “worlds collide” coincidence I ran into a huge guy named Chris at Tops that I know from my consulting life.  It was sort of weird seeing him in there in a torn t-shirt.  And just what the hell was he doing in there on a Thursday night buying beer?  He might have a problem.  Note to self:  Keep an eye on Chris.

By 8:45 or so we finally got going.  Nothing special, bird behind me swinging and squawking to the tunes.  Occasional ear splitting feedback from the PA, starts and stops and glares.  It got a little weird at one point because Makalani kept singing “I like wooden tables” at virtually every opportunity.  This was entirely the fault of Mike, one of Slim’s current roommates who, out of nowhere, busted into the room with a guitar and sang that little riff.  Makalani’s extraordinarily bright and seems to derive pleasure from getting under Slim’s skin.  Tonight’s weapon of choice was “I like wooden tables!”

We took a break and were sitting out front under the carport and Sean was there.  He’s been diagnosed with cancer as I think I mentioned before.  Not sure of where or the cause, although he’s smoked a lot during his life and had more than his share to drink.  He’s been through chemo and is now in a wheelchair.  He had to move out of Slim’s into a home nearby where he got some kind of care and was a little closer to the Sail Inn.  This was important because, despite warnings from the medical community Sean wasn’t about to stop drinking entirely.  His only means of transportation was now this government provided wheelchair which he pushed along at a barely discernable pace at first, but which he was now getting the hang of.  He was telling us that he could walk short distances but he liked the mobility the chair provided.  He could go anywhere and do anything.  Slim slipped into the house and came back a few minutes later with a gorgeous polished walking stick and presented it as a gift to Sean to help him with his walking.  It was tall and light, the kind used by Tyrol mountaineers and it brought joy to Sean’s eyes.  More stories passed and we begrudgingly went back into the house to finish practice.

Two more songs and the front door slowly swung open revealing a very tall man and some others that Slim and maybe Shoeshine seemed to recognize.  He introduced himself as either America’s most famous Native American flautist or America’s tallest Native American flautist.  I honestly can’t remember which, but he loudly cited several credentials that would support the former and downplay the latter.  In any case his name was John or something and his business at the house was somewhat unclear.  I make it a point not to question any of the unusual comings and goings at the house for obvious reasons.  After a rather lengthy story about being asked to appear on Larry King or something the flautist and his entourage removed themselves from the premises, never to appear again. 

We leaped back into our practice working on a brand new song whose name escapes me but I’m pretty confident that there is a “love” in there somewhere.  As we entered the chorus the second time I caught a glimpse of something through the large front window.  Something gliding swiftly down the street, something too smooth and quiet to be an automobile.  I stopped playing and wheeled around just in time to see Sean in his government chair poling himself swiftly down Brown Street using his newly acquired staff like a mad gondolier in Venice.  I resumed playing, they hadn’t really missed me.  When the song ended I annonced to everyone what I was prety sure I had just witnessed.  Slim only offered, “that doesn’t surprise me”.   To no one in particular Makalani melodiously intoned, “I like wooden tables!”.