Suntana's Blog Trek

I haven't written a Musicians' Adventure story in the last 7 weeks. So, now is a good time as any to drag one out from my memory banks. Most of y'all have probably heard the term, "Accident waiting for a place to happen." This weekend, I'll be writing about a case of someone who fits a derivative of that term. The variation of that term, which I'm talking about would be, "Screwup Waiting for a Place to Happen."

Recently I asked on my Blog what the cat's name in the movie Meet the Parents was. My friend Lana recalled that the cat's name was Mr. Jinx. Back in the 80s sometime, in the 3rd Band in which I played, we had one musician who pretty much fit that name – Mr. Jinx. From here on, I'll call him Javier. Just as was the case with some of our other musicians in that Band, Javier was still in High School. He played the Saxophone. He actually played it very well … as long as he had the Sheet Music in front of him to follow. Out of all the Horn Players with whom I played back in my Band days, Javier was the only one who could NOT memorize his notes. He just NEVER could. No matter how many times we practiced, no matter how many times we played the songs in Gigs, the notes just would NOT stick in his head. All the other Horn Players would memorize their notes very quickly. Not Javier. I'd show him his Saxophone parts and he'd write down the notes. He could NOT function without his notes. They were his Security Blanket, pretty much like Linus' Security Blanket on the Peanuts cartoon.

So, after all the Pre-First Gig practice and preparation was done, it was now Showtime, time for our 1st Gig. It was going to be a House Party. As the Horn Players were tuning up, disaster struck. Javier informed us that he had forgotten his notes! We were like, "You WHAT? You're joking, right?" Javier goes, "Nope! I'm serious. I forgot my notes at home." The rest of us were like, "Son of the BEACH! We KNEW this would happen someday! We just didn't think it'd happen on our friggin' 1st Gig." Javier goes, "I'm sorry, guys. I'm going to call my sister so that she'll bring me my notes. Meanwhile, Carlos, will you show me my notes to the first songs that we're going to be playing?" After a no beating around the bush Sigh and some industrial-strength Eye-rolling, I go, "Well, Shit! I guess I'll HAVE to. We have no Fugging choice." I can't remember for sure how much time we had before we had to start the Gig, but it was somewhere between half an hour to an hour.

So, I engaged in a Cram Course of showing Javier his notes as time ticked off before Showtime. Seemingly with every note I was showing him, I kept getting more Pissed Off. Javier was like, "Oh, now show me this song. I know SOME of my parts on this song." Finally my patience Gas Tank was on fumes and I just went, "Fugg this Shit! We're NOT going to do anymore of this. This is Crap! If your sister hasn't arrived with your notes by the time we have played the songs to which I showed you your notes, then we'll play without you if need be."

We started the Gig and eventually Javier's sister did show up with his notes. The Gig went well after that. But, unbeknownst to us at the time, that Javier Screwup was a sign of things to come.

On some other week after that, we were at another Gig. The Amplifier that I used for my Organ was actually NOT your typical Amplifier. It was what's called a Leslie Speaker. It is especially made for use with Organs. Inside, it has a Rotating Horn Speaker and a Rotating Baffle for the bottom Speaker. This is what gives an Organ that certain Vibrato / Phase-shifting sound like when one whistles through a rotating Fan. Anyway, because of that rotating activity going inside the Leslie Speaker, it would shake, similar to a slightly rough Washing Machine. After we finished our equipment setup, Javier placed his Saxophone on top of my Leslie Speaker. I told him right then and there, "Don't put your Saxophone on there because it could be knocked off by the shaking. Javier goes, "Nah! It won't get knocked off." I reiterated, "I'm telling you. It's going to fall." Javier was stubbornly insistent, "Nah! It won't fall. It'll be fine." Giving up with Javier's headstrongness, I shrugged and went, "Suit yourself. Just don't say I didn't tell you so when it does fall." As if shooing away an annoying mosquito, Javier just rolled his eyes and went something along the lines of, "Okay. Right. Whatever." You know … in that, "Your ludicrous concern and advice has been noted. Now feel free to get out of my face" manner. A bit later, as I Told You So luck would have it … SMACK! Javier's Saxophone hit the concrete floor, just as I had warned him would happen. I of course had to rub it in, "Didn't I tell you that would happen?" In a sheepish, Egg on his Face manner … combined with a tinge aura of, "Yeah, you were right. Now get LOST," Javier had no choice, but to admit that I had predicted to a T that his Screwup Waiting for a Place to Happen propensity would land him in the Bullseye of my Rubbing it in his Face target. Yeah, his Saxophone suffered a little dent and some part on it had to later be replaced, but the damage was luckily NOT enough to prevent it from playing for the most part OK that night.

At some future time, Javier would have the misfortune of breaking one of his hands. Granted that wasn't really in the category of Screwup, but it was nevertheless and instance of things just kept happening that would involve him. We had to play without him for around 4 Gigs. We still had a Trumpet, Trombone and 2 more Saxophones with him off those 4 Gigs. The Show Must Go On, they say.