I was invited by a friend(patient of mine) to a jam session yesterday.  He is a steel player, and told me about this amazing jam where a "bunch" of steel players get together.  There is a drummer, bass, fiddle and some guitar players thrown in for good measure.  I got thrown in....like a little lamb into the Lion's den.

I lugged my gear to the thing, and man I'm glad I parked the way I did with the bumper of my car facing away from the garage, 'cause I had my "NO W" sticker on the bumper (the W with a line through it).   I learned subsequently that I was not in "NO W" country.  When I saw some of the Billy Bob guys with the cowboy hat, boots, and big mo'fuggin belt buckle, I knew it was either time to run or be able to yodle Dixie on time, and in key!  No place for a big city Jewboy who thought he could dazzle 'em....fat chance.   I was wearing my sunglasses, tennis shoes and Swervedriver Tee....probably not the best choice of haberdashery for the affair.

Well, despite my friend's kind intro, they kept a grindin' and a whinin' away on their steels (lord, lord it was an awful sound..) oblivious to my struggle to set up my amp, and try with futility to tune.  There was an army of them....and it was loud.  There was supposed to be "no alcohol" but the occasional seepage from the FAT BOY next to me, let me think otherwise. 

It was Buck Owens style electric country stuff, and I like  that California sound, always have, so I gave 'em my best double stops and bends, but apparently I was "too loud" (Christ, really???...my ears are still ringin with the whine of a dozen steels, half of 'em out of tune...), and (according to the FAT BOY seated beside me), I needed to "wait my turn" in order to play.   Hmmmm.... Shades of North Carolina Bluegrass jam terror coming to the fore.  At this point the only thought running through my head is,  What are we doing here, Gene??    What are we doing here ???

I took a quick drink break, and told my girlfriend to fake a cell call telling her that her Mom needed help, and then we could exit gracefully.   Somewhere, in the middle of "12 Bar blues"  (whatever the fook that was...well, the FAT BOY called it..), I'm looking up from my little seat, bullets of sweat breaking out on my forehead, since I didn't know whether I should turn it up, turn it down, play, not play, shit or steel 3rd base, when the FAT BOY glanced my way....this time he just whiskey-breathed a little hint that the tune was in C...and I said a little silent prayer that Cindy would look my way with the "it's time" look, but no....she was nowhere to be found, bless her little heart, and I was melting more and more into the seat, surrounded by the semicircle of STEEEEEL...The Army of STEEEL.....

Long story, shorter, I unplugged after the tune (she finally gave me the nod),  and then lugged the amp out....I felt bad, because my friend really meant well, and he's just a great guy.   Turns out, they didn't let him play too much either.   No matter, I'm sure I wasn't missed, but whatever.....learned just today that Sneaky Pete Kleinow died from the complications of Alzheimers this past January.   I think that's been posted here before, but I had no idea it was Alzheimer's.   Damn.   I was completely unaware of how prolific he was in music as well as film.  Apparently he did extensive work in animation, and film special effects, before and after his musical career.

Keep pickin' Pete....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Kleinow