Jamming

We used to jam at the drop of a hat.  A friend of mine rang and asked, “did you just drop your hat?”  We had a good session together.
He calls me “my number one piano player” and I call him “my number one Bass player.”  I do not pretend I’m number one because I am the best.  I reckon I am number one as I was the first.  He is very much into blue grass music and very good. 
A good friend of mine was ranked in the top blue grass fiddle players in the US.  That is no mean feat in a population north of 240 million.  She got her board busking in the railway tunnel.
We were fishing together one time and I decided it was time I learned bluegrass, so I wrote a song called “Kookaburra’s Laughing.”  A mate of mine did the drawings for an overhead projector and I played it twice.  One time was with a really good group.  I asked them to play with me and said to them that if I was going down, they were coming with me.  It did not happen.  The second time I played it I was glad when it was over.  It was “tough crowd” personified.
The overhead projector got a bit of a workout.  I told an audience one time that our guitarist was an iron man.  I then put up a picture of a guy doing some ironing.  He was always good for it though.  In such cases I reckon someone who gives it needs to be willing to get it too.  He made sure I got it too.
What I love about groups is often everyone is playing a different instrument, but it can sound great.  It can sound terrible too, but we won’t go there.
A radio station was running a composing competition.  They wanted songs from their listeners.  I reckon I worked in the right place.  One of our campuses had a recording studio.  We arranged with the guy in charge that we would record.  One of our band members recorded one of his songs and I recorded one of mine.  We had a band and back up singers.  It was great fun and went into the early hours of the morning.  The guy in charge seemed to have a good time too as when it was over, he went to various locations on campus to find the loudest we could get it.  The fact we never heard from the radio station probably suggests we did not do well.  But we enjoyed ourselves.  Two of us played a round of golf the next morning.  Big night and day.
I felt sorry for our drummer in Townsville.  We would pull up in a car and visit people and decide to jam.  That meant he had to unload the drums and set them up to play.  We might only jam for three songs.  He would then need to do the whole process in reverse.  But it was worth it.  It was for others anyway.
I have only mentioned in passing my playing the piano and guitar.   Perhaps writing about that is for another time.  Perhaps not too.