[Dixielandjazz] Fwd: Wild Bill

Tue Oct 16 08:18:32 EDT 2018

Same thing for me, I received the mail about Wild Bill in my spams, don't
know why

Jean-Marc

Le mar. 16 oct. 2018 à 11:23, Marek Boym <marekboym at gmail.com> a écrit :

>
>
> ---------- Forwarded message ---------
> From: Steve Voce <stevevoce at virginmedia.com>
> Date: Tue, 16 Oct 2018 at 11:02
> Subject: Re: [Dixielandjazz] Wild Bill
> To: Marek Boym <marekboym at gmail.com>
>
>
> Could you forward this to the group and see where it goes?
>
> Steve
>
> On 15/10/2018 19:49, Marek Boym wrote:
>
> Apparently that's what happens - I've just found this in my spam folder,
> while an email addressed just to me ended up in inbox.
>
> On Mon, 15 Oct 2018 at 18:19, Steve Voce <stevevoce at virginmedia.com>
> wrote:
>
>> Maybe, as Marek suggests, the Dixieland filters thought my piece on Wild
>> Bill unsuitable. Having combed its hair and made it sit up respectably, I'm
>> trying to send it again.
>>
>> Steve
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> One night during the ‘40s when Eddie Condon’s New York jazz club had
>> closed in the small hours, Wild Bill Davison decided that he was too drunk
>> to drive the 40 miles to his home.
>> Condon suggested that he should stay the night in the apartment that
>> Eddie shared with his wife Phyllis. The apartment consisted of a long
>> corridor with bedrooms off on each side. Phyllis couldn’t stand the noises
>> that Eddie made in the night, and so they had separate rooms.
>> The two men had a few more drinks and then Bill asked Eddie where he
>> should sleep. “Second on the right,” said Eddie pouring himself another
>> drink.
>> Bill found the room and went to bed. When he awoke in the morning he
>> found Phyllis Condon asleep beside him.
>> “Hey, Eddie,” Bill said at breakfast. “Did you know I slept with Phyllis
>> last night?”
>> “I’m sorry,” said Condon. “I should have said second on the left.”
>> Back in the Fifties I wrote a piece called "Don't Shoot, We're American",
>> which was published in some anthologies. These are a couple of paragraphs
>> from it. At that period Britain had draconian laws about the time of day
>> that one could buy a drink.
>> The Eddie Condon mob arrived in town at the unappropriate time of 11
>> o'clock on a Sunday morning. They kicked and stumbled their way off the
>> train through a pile of empty whiskey bottles - "travellin' high" is the
>> phrase, I believe -n and began soliciting porters for directions to the
>> nearest bar. They were told that all bars were closed, and their bleary
>> faces paled as though the Wall Street Crash had just been announced.
>> Finally we persuaded them to bridge the gap until opening time with lunch
>> at a Chinese restaurant, although this was an obvious breach of etiquette -
>> Wil Bill pointed out that he never took food on an empty stomach.
>> Once inside the restaurant Condon and Davison each produced a half of
>> Scotch (how the bottles survived the journey is a mystery). Bill placed his
>> on his table with great deliberation, causing much concern to the
>> management. "No drinking please, yes?" asked the manager hopefully. "No,"
>> agreed Bill, opening the bottle. "You got glasses?"
>>  After a lot of argument glasses were provided ("You drink water, yes?"
>> "No," agreed Bill politely) and the contents of the bottles began to
>> disappear into the well-oiled systems of Messrs. Condon and Davison.
>>  The restaurant was fairly crowded and we had been unable to get adjacent
>> tables. I was seated with Bill while Condon and his associates were at the
>> other end of the room.
>>  Bill ordered a fruit salad as a concession to the management to show
>> that he hadn't simply come to use their glasses. I believe he did actually
>> eat some of it, but don't remember. I do remember the whiskey disappearing
>> with an impressive swiftness, and from the other end of the room the voices
>> of Condon and George Wettling were raised in mortal debate over who was
>> going to finish the bottle. Finally the Davison meal was concluded.
>>   Bill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and got to his feet. "A
>> lot of people think Eddie Condon is an ***hole," he announced loudly. The
>> diners fell silent. The manager, with commendable tact, dropped behind the
>> cash-desk as though he had been pole-axed.
>>   Condon, looking like a miniature but very angry bull, slowly lifted
>> himself from his chair at the other end of the room. "How's that again?" he
>> asked.
>>   "I said a lot of people think  Condon's an ***hole." A Chinese waitress
>> stopped in full flight with two dishes of chow-mein.
>> "But it's not true," Bill continued. Both Condon and Bill began to sit
>> down.
>> Bill jumped up again.
>>  "He's two  ***holes."
>> He sat down again, beaming.
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> <https://www.avast.com/sig-email?utm_medium=email&utm_source=link&utm_campaign=sig-email&utm_content=emailclient> Virus-free.
>> www.avast.com
>> <https://www.avast.com/sig-email?utm_medium=email&utm_source=link&utm_campaign=sig-email&utm_content=emailclient>
>> <#m_-4105730456084462715_m_-6992579896600948851_m_-2623855554496410369_DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2>
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