[Dixielandjazz] Ode to Musicians

[Robert Ringwald]

Ode to Musicians
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Bar Owner,
As musicians who get all the glory, we feel its time to thank those whom we rely
upon for the opportunity to showcase our talent and express our creative faculty
to the local community.
Because, as everyone knows, musicians don't really need the money. We do it all for
beer and sex. We're artists. We have no time for such trivialities as kids, mortgages,
or car payments.
Some of the things we love:
When you send us home early and pro-rate our pay for the night when it's slow. This
gives us a special thrill, since we know that you'll one day give us a big bonus
when it's packed. Plus, by leaving early, we can now go watch our friends play at
real bars and spend our night's wages.
When trying to book dates, we love when you ask us if we're free on the 17th. Sure,
let us check our f...ing calendar. Yeah, we're open that night. Oh.you meant of November.
Of this year?
We also love when you say, Well, we might be doing something next month for Thursdays.
Yeah, we might also be doing something next month. Foreclosing.
One of our fave questions is, Do you have a following? Of course we do! We firmly
believe club owners shouldn't have to concern themselves with such banalities as
advertising. Or promotions. Or drink specials. The responsibility for attracting
customers must fall solely with the band. We have no doubt whatsoever the people
who saw us regularly at that bar in Dallas will charter a bus and trek up to Richardson
to hear us play Smoke on the Water. Put your minds at rest,  troubled bar proprietors.
Just a few of the things we'd like to thank you for:
For canceling us forty minutes prior to our arrival at your bar, because as everyone
knows, babysitters are free, and frankly, we have nothing better to do on a Saturday
night.
For replacing our four-piece band with the clove cigarette-smoking guy and his $129
Fender acoustic guitar, paisley button-down shirt and soul patch. Theres a reason
he works for a hundred bucks.
For paying the exact same wage for a duo that you paid in 1986. So now, we have to
work six jobs a week instead of four to make a living.
Thanks for not cashing your own checks. We realize how this complicates your accountant's
life, and his happiness is all that matters.
And for having the house music set to the local oldies radio station, we salute you.
We love following "Unchained Melody" with "Rock the Casbah."
For not having a stage. Its a real treat to stand on your wing sauce-saturated carpet.
And being on the same level as your patrons makes it much easier for drunken assholes
to approach us and fall into our equipment while spewing a three-foot stream of vomit
onto the drum kit. Thank you.
Thanks for the track lighting above the stage. Makes us feel like rock stars. Especially
when they're colored.
Also, thanks for the break on food and drinks. Fifty percent is such a gift. Its
our distinct pleasure to shell out $3.25 for a shot of Jack that costs you twenty-two
cents. Grazie. Merci. Domo. Danke.
Thanks for hiring the three laid-off bus mechanics who threw a band together after
the economy shit the bed and will now play for $75 a man. Enjoy their ripping 11-minute
rendition of Cocaine, complete with 64-bar bass solo and fudged lyrics.
Thanks for canceling us on a Thursday night for the Browns-Lions game on NFL Network.
Thanks for putting TVs directly over our heads, so people can watch Worlds Scariest
Videos while we play. Its always a thrill to hear such expletives as WHOA!, HOLY
SHIT! while navigating the soliloquy from Nights in White Satin.
And let us not forget the bartenders, who listen to us all night without once clapping
(if for no other reason than to induce the comatose people at the bar to clap).
And thanks so much for cutting off the jukebox 10 seconds into "Sweet Home Alabama,"
so that we can hear that collective "AWWWWWW...." from the audience as we hit the
stage. Most inspiring.
Thanks for waiting until you've served all drinks, lit every cigarette, wiped off
the bar, stocked the coolers and done your side work before moping toward the cash
register with the quickness of a tai chi instructor to give us our meager salary
while muttering, They make as much as me, and only worked four f...in hours. Yes,
its a travesty, but most high-level universities no longer give out bartending scholarships.
And please note that it took us slightly longer to learn our instrument than it took
for you to make it through Billy Bobs Bartending School. And we doubt seriously that
you sit at home practicing bartending in your spare time. So thanks for handing over
the dough and shutting the f... up.


--Bob Ringwald
www.ringwald.com
Fulton Street Jazz Band
530/ 642-9551 Office
916/ 806-9551 Cell
Amateur (Ham) Radio K6YBV

There are two rules for success:
1.  Don't tell all you know.