Suntana's Blog Trek

On Saturday afternoon I went to a Happy Birthday party for a 5-year-old boy. And to answer my friend Jen's question … No, Jen, it was NOT held at that Firehouse Hall about which you joked that seemingly all parties I go to end up being held there. This time the party I went to was held miles away from there, in a Phone Booth! I can here y'all collectively going, "WTF? What do you mean the party was held in a Phone Booth? With Cell Phones now so prevalent, aren't Phone Booths like totally obsolete? Aren't Phone Booths now only on display in museums? And besides, how the Fugg did y'all fit in a Phone Booth?" Well, apparently there was at least 1 Phone Booth that was salvaged and remodeled into a Party Room because that's where this party was held.

Okay, so I embellished a tad. No, the party wasn't actually held in a Phone Booth, because if it HAD been, we might have had more room in which to move around. The party was held at this Putt Putt Mini Golf & Games place in a Party Room, which was a little bit bigger than an aquarium. But, seriously, all kidding aside, this Party Room was approximately the size of 4 Office Cubicles, if that. It had 1 main table in the middle for the kids and chairs against 3 walls for the adults. I figured, "Alright, so they probably invited only a handful of people, carefully calculated to fit comfortably in this Phone Booth small Party Room. Gradually, more and more people showed up and it quickly became evident not everyone was going to fit in there.

The thinking for this small Party Room choice ended up being that eventually the kids would go over to the arcade and play video games or out to play Mini Golf and ride the Go-Karts. I guess the strategy sorta worked for the most part. It was only tight and uncomfortable at some point in the beginning and at the end of the party. It was awkward trying to eat the blandest pizza in the history of pizza, while having no table on which to put your plate and your drink. And then things got worse when the Dr. Pepper ran out and I inadvertently got Pepsi and later what I'm almost sure was Diet Pepsi. Son of the BEACH! Eating Sucky pizza in a Phone Booth in a personal space equivalent to that of an airliner Coach seat was on some level tolerable. But, drinking Pepsi and Diet Pepsi? WTF? C'mon! What was this, Survivor … Fear Factor? Was I on hidden camera? Was someone deliberately trying to get under my skin?

Anyway, as per the "We gotta get our Butts outta this Party Room by 7:00PM" deadline, everyone was brought in at around 6:30PM for the singing of Happy Birthday … Cake and opening of the presents. It was standing room only and not everyone was even able to fit into the Phone Booth. Oh well, the goal was for the Birthday Boy and the rest of the kids to have a good time and it appears they did.

Y'all can now go to the concession stand and get some munchies and drinks. Okay, as I did after last week's party, this week I am again treating y'all to a Double Feature.

It's been 2 months since I Blogged about a Musicians' Adventure. So, let me flashback to the '80s and the 4th Band in which I played. There was this feud brewing between our Bass Player whom I shall call Rudy and this other dude whom I shall call Eric. Eric was just a Hanger On buddy of our Bandleader / Saxophone Player whom I shall call Sammy. I can't remember if I ever even knew what their beef was with each other. I just know that Rudy couldn't stand Eric and had conveyed to Sammy that he didn't care for him bringing his Sidekick Eric along to the Gigs. Rudy warned that one of these days, Eric was going to push his buttons one too many times.

We had just finished playing a Gig on a Saturday night. Everything had gone well. I had played brilliantly and enthralled, awed and Wowed a mass of Party Animals. Okay Okay, so we had entertained a dancing, partying crowd. I packed my musical equipment and went home.

Sometime on Sunday, I got a phone call from our Band Manager / Saxophone Player. He goes, "Sooo, Carlos, exactly how good ARE you at playing the Bass?" He knew that aside of playing Organ, I could also play Guitar and Bass Guitar. Having gotten a call out of the blue just for that inquiry, he had my curiosity really piqued. I went, "Www Why do you ask?" He replied, "Oh, Rudy quit the Band." I was like, "WHAT? What happened?" He goes, "After you left last night, Eric started pushing Rudy's buttons, talking Smack. They got in a heated argument. Eric then sucker-punched Rudy. Fists started flying a bit, but we quickly separated them. Rudy told Sammy that he WARNED him not to be bringing Eric to the Gigs. And since Sammy had ignored his warning, Rudy had had it and was quitting the Band effective immediately."

We had another Gig scheduled that coming weekend. So, we had 1 week to remedy the problem. Our Band Manager reiterated his inquiry, "So, Carlos, CAN you play the Bass throughout an entire Gig if need be? I'm gonna try to find a Bass Player to fill in, but if I can't find someone in time, CAN you fill in at Bass?" I thought for a couple of seconds then replied, "Nnnnggg, well, the Rock / Pop songs are pretty much out of the question. I don't have the knack for those. I have no idea what the Bass Player was doing on those. But, on the Tejano songs, I can pretty much play the Bass on virtually all except maybe two or so songs." Our Manager managed to talk Rudy into coming over one night to give me a quick Bass Cram Course on whatever songs I needed Tips on how he played them. I had a little bit of trepidation, but I was ready to go play Bass for an entire Gig. Maybe Rudy felt guilty just leaving us in a tough situation like that. So, Rudy agreed to help us out on 2 more Gigs, but told us after that, we'd be on our own.

After those 2 Gigs, our Trombone Player came up with a temporary fix. He was the cousin of the Bass Player of the Band in which he and I previously played. He said his cousin was willing to fill in on Bass on weeks in which he wasn't playing with his Band. Our Trombone Player added, "Would it be Okay with you if he helped us out? You don't have any hard feelings or beef with him?" You see, the reason our Trombone Player was asking that was because his cousin, the Bass Player with our previous Band was the one who initiated the chain reaction that broke up the Band. When he quit our previous Band, other musicians just decided to quit also and we had no choice, but to pack it up and disband. C'mon! Just because of my slave-driving 'em ways, wasn't any reason for them to quit. Cream Puffs.

Anyway, I told Trombone Player dude that Nah, I didn't have any beef with his backstabbing, quitter, going to the competition, Chicken Shit cousin helping us out on Bass. Okay, so I didn’t actually put it that way. I really didn't have some grudge. I regretted that his quitting led to the break up of our Band, but he wasn't the only one who quit. Ehhh, Shit happens. Besides, we needed a Bass Player.