The Band and the Sand

With the leaving of Bob Morgan, the band would be needing more than a lead quitar player, because the REST of those guys only had a few more months to go as well, except for "Mac" (the manager), who helped me put out the word that we were looking for some more "replacements."

To complicate matters, there were couple of guys recruiting for musicians to start a rock & roll band as well. Trying to find a DOZEN "G.I." musicians to form TWO bands on a small remote base like San Vito, seemed impossible, but it happened! We found our bass player in Civil Engineers, our drummer came from that "cloak & dagger" Elephant Cage, there was a small Naval detachment at San Vito that provided both a male AND female singer for us. The girl, a Navy Wave named Bobbi Price was really a welcome addition, because the old band didn't have a girl singer. She had a great voice and was pretty to boot, which was always a "customer-plus" for a weekend gig at the NCO Club.

Glen Elmore, the other Navy member, had a good voice and played pretty proficient rythmn guitar as well. So we had our new band formed up-------------almost. There was an unexpected addition downstairs in the laundry room of our barracks. I went downstairs one Saturday morning to toss a load of clothes in the washing machine, and there was a guy sitting down there waiting for HIS clothes to finish drying. He was sitting there playing a harmonica.........and he was GOOD. REAL GOOD. His name was Kevin O'Brien, a young Airman First Class who worked in Civil Engineering with our new bass player.

I listened a bit, and then HE said........."Hey, I saw you at the Club a couple of weeks ago.....aren't you that guy who just replaced Morgan?"

"Yeah........you gonna be here awhile?"

"I just now put my clothes in the dryer" he replied, "I'll be here an hour or so."

"Good, I'll be right back."

I ran upstairs to my room, grabbed my old Gibson flat-top, came back downstairs and we played awhile. When his clothes were dry and he was taking them out of the dryer, I invited him to our next jam session Wednesday night, and I told him that if the other guys liked him as much as I did, he could play with us............and they did........and HE did.

We called our new country band "The Harmony Grits". The new "G.I." rock band was just about ready too, and they salled themselves "Chocolate Buttermilk."

Both groups got along great, we alternated at the NCO Club. They'd play Friday and Saturday night------then we'd play the NEXT Friday and Saturday night. We even shared equipment once in awhile if one group had something in for repair (there were plently of "electronic technicians" at San Vito who would repair problems with PA systems or microphones)........for a "SIX-PACK" of course! It all worked well.

Gotta tell you about Lonnie (I won't use his last name here). He was our bass player from Texas, a crusty old Staff Sergeant who worked for Civil Engineers in the Roads & Grounds Section. He had probably played music as long as the rest of us COMBINED. He was also a drunk, but was always sober for duty, and it incredibly NEVER seemed to affect his playing on stage.

Every night that we played at the NCO club, they paid us $35.00 each, PLUS free drinks all night-----which Lonnie ALWAYS took advantage of. We'd usually play four or five sets, and take a 15-minute break between each one. During the breaks, we'd get a beer, mixed drink or whatever, then when it was time to go back on-stage, we'd each grab something fresh to take back up there WITH us to sip as we played the next set.

Although the clublights are dim out there in the table area, and even on the dance floor sometimes, they are usually bright and hot on the stage and a cool sip of beer tastes pretty good in-between songs. And almost like CLOCKWORK........about two-thirds of the way through the show, old Lonnie would be pretty far gone. He would never miss a beat on that bass guitar though------just playing on instinct and the years of experience, I guess. But he always stood on the far right end of the stage, and I'd be down on the left end (IMAGINE if you can, the old Bazookaman here being on the LEFT of something!)........our singers and harmonica player took up the middle of the stage with our drummer right behind all of us.

Deep into the third or fourth set, I could always lean forward a bit and see Lonnie--------down at the other end, "weaving" back and forth. We used to make bets on WHICH night he would finally FALL OFF THE STAGE onto the dance floor! But he neved did! Amazing dude! I've often wondered if he is still alive today, (if the truth was known, he'll probably outlive ALL of us!)

Every show was a "confidence-builder" for me as well. Playing in public now, I HAD to play better than ever before, so I was practicing more now. And I had found the best place in the world to practice.........

The BEACH! The barracks was always noisy with guys playing their stereos and such. I'd bought an old Buick from another G.I. when I first got to San Vito, and I'd put my old accoustic guitar in the back seat, then drive off base just a mile of so, and park in a clearing. Just a short walk to a high ridge that overlooked the Mediterranean. I'd sit there on a rock, watching the tide come in and go out, under the warm Italian sun and salty breezes, and I'd play. Sometimes I would take a pad and pencil, make up lyrics and write songs. I still have a couple of them in my music scrapbook.

Playing out there on the rocks & sand was very inspirational. It gave me time with myself that I wouldn't have otherwise. I got out there every chance I got, and usually, just prior to a show, I'd kick back a little earlier that same afternoon, and take a nap, just to "ease out" any crap that might have taken place during the day, so I'd be somewhat "fresh & relaxed" to play for the people.

We don't don't have that salt-air beach here in Mountain Home, but I still take that little nap before a show.........or TRY to, anyway.

Before I close this particular post off, I've got to share a "Lonnie" story.........

Sometimes, on a weekend when we WEREN'T playing at the club, we'd drive the 30+/- miles to Martina Franca (where I used to make those "strange deliveries"), and play at the NCO Club up THERE. They were HUGE Country-Western fans, and we always had an "open invitation to go up there.

Well............we're up there one night, and those folks were so starved for live music, they would dance until they DROPPED. Our sets usually ran about 45 minutes each, and well into the third set, we'd been playing almost TWO hours without a break. Glen had just finished singing a song. He was hot and parched, in serious need of something to drink, as were ALL of us.

He wiped the persperation from his forehead, turned to me and said "Let's take a break!" I leaned back and told Kevin "TAKE A BREAK"...........HE turned around to our drummer and said "DON!-----TAKE A BREAK!"

Then Don yells over to Lonnie (who was "pickled" by now) and says "LONNIE.........TAKE A BREAK!"

Lonnie swayed a little and says "WHAT KEY?"

..............."Lonnie..........just put the guitar down and rest a little............."

Yeah, I've often wondered where he is today. I know THIS much, though.........whenever he DOES pass away, they won't have to enbalm him!