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October 11

Today we are going to re-visit my first trip to New York. I know that I told the story of the mobster gig. Well, this is a little diddy of how I got to NY.

I was lucky enough to start doing recording work at a young age. Growing up in Detroit, there were great bass players on every corner, and you really had to put in some work to make sure if you got a call that you would be ready. I would practice for hours when growing up. I even took my bass to my grandmother's funeral (my mom and dad were really bumming):-) I never wanted to put it down, even to this day. While my friends were going to parties and going out on dates, I would stay in my room and play my bass. (I was boring!) After years of practice, my big break came. I went on an audition for this production team. I thought to myself, (this is it) I am ready. I had to audition for the two big wigs in their recording studio. The audition was set up for me to play a couple of songs with a drummer, guitarist, pianist and saxophone dude. All of which are great friends of mine to this day. We played the two songs, I thought it was great. But, the two big boss men only shrugged and said, "You can leave your number on the desk". I was crushed. I vowed to make them regret not hiring me on the spot.

I locked myself back in my room and practiced for weeks. The day came when the production team needed a bassist. I was the last phone number and they had no choice. I was ready! I was foaming at the mouth! I will show these guys.

We are going to record three or fpur new songs for a female singing group. After recording the first song, we go into the control room to listen. I have nailed it. Take that you two! As we are listening to the playback of the first song, my chest is puffed out and I am feeling on top of the world. One of the guitar players is standing next to me. Some of you may or may not know this, but when you record in a recording studio, there is a huge mixing board. Each instrument is on a separate track. What this means is that each instrument can be muted or turned up or down in volume with it's own control knob or fader. Well this guitar player solo's my track so that the only instrument we hear is the bass. Not only do you hear what I was suppose to play. But, you hear all kinds of other noises (open,strings, fret buzz) Yikes! I sound like crap:-) My friend the guitarist says, "Lets do it again without all the noise", (Ouch!) I want to cry;-( But we did it over and it was great. I was learning how to be a real musician and it was great. I became a regular fixture with this group of people, and this experience became the spring board for me being able to do what I do.

The group that we recorded with had moderate success and this is how I came to be in NY. The girls had a hit disco record, and they put a tour of the east coast together. I was chosen to play bass in the band. Great! NYC! I am so excited to fly to NY like the real musicians.:-) I am ready to go. I was packed a whole month before we were suppose to leave. One week before our departure date, I get a telephone call. "JV!", big boss number one says, "we need you to drive the equipment to NYC".

"Me! Why me?" I say.

"We need you because, you are the most responsible one in the band, the rest of us need to get there and make sure everything is ready".

"Okay", I say. But, now I am bumming.

"Don't worry", says bb one. "One of the other guys will ride with you".

So, we come up with a plan for me and my boy to leave Detroit at midnight two days before the first show. Now, keep in mind I have never driven to anywhere and we don't really know if the van will make it. The van is at least eight years old and it's better days are well behind it. But, okay:-( I am just a little concerned.

Departure day is here. I pick up the van full of gear and my boy. We make a plan. My boy;-) will drive the first leg and I will take the second. Now this means that I will sleep until 6 or 7 in the morning. I settle into the passenger seat, my boy starts off. I am asleep for maybe an hour, and all of a sudden, my boy is shaking me up.

"Get up! Get up!" says my boy. I jump up.

"What's wrong?" I say!

"We are being pulled over by the highway patrol", says my boy.

I am tired and try to brush him off. "It's okay, you'll just get a ticket, it's cool".

"No!" my boy says. "I don't have a drivers license!"

What! Now I am awake. Now, keep in mind that the van is packed to the top. You cannot see thru the back. I take a peek at the patrol car as we pull on the shoulder of the highway. My boy then says. "You have to trade places with me!"

"What? I am not", I say.

"Please, Please" he says:-(

"Okay", I say:-( ( I am not happy). We climb over each other and now I am in the driver's seat just as the patrolman approaches the window.

"May I see your driver's license and registration?" I give up the items. The patrolman then informs me that I was doing 85 in a 65 mph zone. I glance at , MY BOY! with a look that could stop a train:-( And by the way, we are in Ohio. So, this means that I will have to pay the ticket on the spot. The patrolman, then says that I will have to come to the station and pay the fine. (At least I have the money) I have a van full of equipment, and don't want to leave it here, I say to the cop. Guess what he says to me.... Yes, I knew you could get it.

"Your friend can follow me to a rest area, and I will bring you back to the van". I am beside myself. The cop puts me in the rear seat of his patrol car and MY BOY! is following us to a rest area. I am trying my best to catch his eye from the rear of this patrol car. I am so mad. We drop off my boy at the rest area and head to the court-house.

Now when I say court-house, it probably brings up an image of a nice building in the middle of downtown with a dome on top. I was thinking of that kind of place too. But, this was not the case. No, my luck is not that good. The patrol car is going deeper and deeper into darkness. And now I am really getting worried. Where is this guy going and why is he going there with me?:-) Don't worry folks! I did not get killed:-) I would not be able to tell the story.

When we finally stop, it is so dark that you could not see anything. The patrolman takes me from the rear seat and we head to this small glimmer of light. I can hear farm animals in the distance. And I begin to wonder if this is a legit cop. I am nervous; I can hardly walk.

We finally enter a converted barn. Yes! Sports fans, it's a barn. This is the court-house? And sitting behind a protective glass counter is the waitress from Mel's Diner. I don't know if many of you remember this old show. But the head waitress whose name was Alice, was sitting behind the counter (large bee-hive hair and all) I am not kidding:-) But at least everyone is legit. I am relieved, whew!!!!;-) Alice the highway patrol/waitress/ person in charge of the fines, informs me that my fine is $150.00. I have no choice but to hand over the money. And now the cop takes me back to the van, where MY BOY:-( is waiting. I climb into the drivers seat and MYYYY BOYYYY! starts peppering me with all kinds of questions. I ignore him for the rest of the trip. Now I have to drive the whole trip with no help:-( (I wish we had ipods back then).

We made it the rest of the way without any problems. :-) My first trip to NYC was a doozie. I won't ever forget.................................................... MY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a true story:-)

Keep Rollin' With Yo Boy To A Jungle Groove.......................................................