by John F. Kendall

Created on: March 23, 2009

Humor: St. Patrick's Day

or

How I managed to avoid the St. Patrick's Day Massacre.

I have now been a musician for so long that it is difficult for me to remember those days when I did not know how to play. Certainly, they were there but I did learn to play. Today, I have some mastery over both the guitar and the drums. In the course of learning these skills a few interesting events unfolded like the one I am about to tell you now. It is a true story but I intend to change the names or those involved other than my own to prevent both hurt feelings and legal action I cannot afford.

In my late teens and early twenties, I had gained enough proficiency to be able to sit in with a number of bands that played a number of styles of music. Depending upon what was needed, I would play the guitar or the drum kit for the evening. Sometimes, I was asked to join. Sometimes, it was a one night only gig. Sometimes we sounded like a band and sometimes we just sounded.

An old friend of mine, Bob, had joined a group that played country and western music. At the time, this was not my favorite music and nor was it his. It was a fairly good paying job and that settled it. A very good guitarist in his own right, Bob had been asked aboard to play the bass in that he could handle both instruments well. Guitarists were plentiful and bassists were much harder to find. The lead guitarist, Dennis, was a man of some renown having played for a number of years with a well-known recording artist.

The group needed a drummer and Bob, having played with me for some considerable time, asked me to come along. The work was going to be fairly steady and so I said "sure". With an exceptional guitarist like Dennis and two old hands like Bob and myself, the music came easily.

Frank, the band's singer and organizer, was happy to have us with him. He had enough contacts to guarantee work but there were a few hitches. The first of these was that Frank didn't really know how to play or at least play well enough to make it through the night. While his guitar was plugged in, Dennis made sure that the amp was never on.

Frank, being the singer and band's leader, also got to name the group. To the considerable dismay of the rest of us, he chose the name, "Frank and the Flat Tops." This he believed was a reference to the flat top steel string guitar that he pretended to play. For Bob and I, it seemed to suggest a bad hair cut or some sort of Dick Tracy character. We tried to get him to change but it was of no use.

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