Everyone sees things so differently as time goes on. I admit to my share of parties & sometimes it takes four sides to every story to get the real one. However, the person on the other end of the phone remembers things that he saw while looking thru a glass. A whiskey glass; from the inside out. For the most part, he remembers things very well. Just once in a while his clouded whiskey laden thoughts have added or forgotten something important to the memory. The thing is… we still laugh, and smile at the memories no matter who reminds who of what happened next. Tramp is a drummer. Tramp is my friend. Tramp is a drinker. There are many dark areas to cover & a history with this person that made us who we are to each other. First off, you have to care or you walk away from it because it is just too hard to deal with if it is not your problem. The other side of the coin is when you don't walk away & history is made; the show must go on.
My husband and I went on an adventure. We had been a fairly successful three-piece weekend band at the time. I had gotten sick, recovered and did not want to stay where we were for ever and die there without ever doing "something". We decided to change our world & head out west on road construction for a big change & see what life together could hold. Our drummer Kahuna "Jessie's dad", had just moved to Arizona with his family. There was nothing to hold us there anymore. We bought a camper, loaded up the dog & all the band gear in the van "just in case", and took off with no looking back. Rog had landed a job working construction in the daytime. We had weekends free so I started to look for a wondering available drummer. I found the first one in a laundry mat, it worked out really well. The drummer & lead man's front man who played base took off for Alaska, left them with gigs and no way to play them. We stepped in and took over with them. That lasted three months. We then relocated to another area with the construction. It was a centennial year for many little towns in the area we landed in. Turns out that the band that had booked all the street dances was not able to do over half of them that summer due to whatever reason. We were at the right place at the right time. I got phone call after phone call & I took all the jobs I could. We had a full schedule, & now I needed to find a drummer. Someone in a music store had given me a number for two brothers that played drums. He said one or the other should be available. I dialed, & that is when I met Tramp. Our first gig was in the back of a feed store! We were not the first band they had there. It was in the middle of nowhere, but the place was packed. I told Tramp what the job paid & when it was. He said count me in. I'll be there.
No pre meeting, just the gig. He was known as a shotgun. Which back then it meant he was able to fill in for anyone at the drop of a hat & nobody would know he was a sub. He was a month younger than me, we had the same music back ground, but his was a bit more pointed at southern rock at the time. Which is something he opened the door on for me. I thought he was quite a handsome guy. Over six foot tall, dark hair, nice smile, & brought his wife with him. She & I grew to be friends. She was part of the package that was an extra gift in life, she is still dear to me today. His drums…… ok. Here is where it gets strange. Most drummers take pride in their instruments. Tramp had not been rolling in the money at the time & was using a beginner set that he had held together with bailing wire and duct tape. It was a sparkly red & blue set that he dwarfed with his long legs. I asked him if it was his good luck trap kit & couldn't he stand to part with it… he said. "phuuuuuck no". "I played on better, but don't let the kit fool ya, if a drummer is any good he can make a trash can sing."
My instrument snobbery soon vanished. The very first song out, I gave him the name of the song & said, do you know it. He said. " hell no, never heard of it, but it don't matter, Hook it darlin". I told him it was a shuffle, and counted it in. The boy could play. I didn't tell him anything from that point on, just if it was a straight four, waltz, swing, or whatever. It was spot on every time. Within the first five minutes.. we had a chemistry. He later told me that when I opened my mouth to sing & he heard what came out, he was sold and he was my drummer forever, If I lived that long. It was instant musical chemistry history. We had a ball, I forgot to take breaks, we had the place rockin, the night ended too soon. It felt like that a lot…. In the beginning.
He dressed like a cowboy, he is an American Indian. He has a love hate relationship with horses, I won't go into detail here, but lets just say he spent a lot of time in the river due to one particular horse who would always dump him in there. He & Rog got along great. The beginning years were very special with him. He kept wanting to go back, on the road. He went out when he was in his teens. He looked way older than he was. Lived an adult life of a road dog. He had been a tramp with women & on a saddle. So he ended up with the name Saddle Tramp, which got shortened to just Tramp. He wanted us to quit the day job shit & hit the road full time. Worked on us all summer, to go on the road. A year & a half later, with another piece added to the band, we did it. We had a house gig lined up that we were playing plus holding down day jobs. We had to make a choice because we were wearing out trying to do it all. So…. We hit the road. We took off with a months worth of work in….. Nevada. We didn't look back then either it was the start of a 25 year long drive.
He got to be like my right arm on stage. No matter what I wanted to do, or how I forgot to do something, he just KNEW! He just did it. When I wrote something, I didn't have to explain what I wanted him to play at all. It sort of spoiled me for other people. I had low tolerance for explaining things to my future drummers because after having him just "do it", I found it particularly annoying to have to explain what used to be so obvious to Tramp. If I did anything that was not planned, he was RIGHT THERE. He could have worked for James Brown, (notoriously rough on players on his ques), Tramp paid attention, he delivered, and shocked himself at times with his own ability. His style was smooth & a powerhouse when needed. He didn't have a problem playin lounge music & using brushes, nor did he mind kickin ass for bikers who wanted to feel it. He was not a metronome, he was a drummer who knew how to breathe and still keep the tempo danceable or in context. Not so stubborn that he could not adapt to the picture he was framing. Strong, firm, but not stiff. He flowed with sound. He could make that twine string, bailing wire and duct tape sound like Buddy Rich was in da house. All in the delivery. That part will always be my best memory of the man. I knew that when he was on stage with me, no matter what happened, there would be magic. If I could feel it, there is no way the rest of the people could ignore it.
Tramp entries, there too many to cover all at once. They are not all happy. Not by a long shot. This was the beginning. I can answer my phone, hear his voice & feel like I am missing the road again. Not what the road is now mind you, but what it was then. He was the inspiration to many songs that I wrote in the 80's. During the year he was badgering me to hit the music road full time, I wrote two songs with that in mind. I will share the lyrics of both of them with you for my next blog entry. It may fill in a blank or two better said in a song.
He has had another lifetime since the time we knew each other well. He has introduced me to two very cool women that he has had in his life that I am proud to call my friends. He gave me musical chemistry, memories & a kick start to get rollin on a wing & a prayer. I also learned long ago that I cannot help him with what he needs most. Self discipline. For the past two decades I have not been involved in much of a daily life with him. It does not change the emotional tie & respect of the past; it just means we have moved on. Facts are seen so differently from one person to another. He gave me a kick-start 25 some odd years ago with pushing me in the right direction. I made the right choices for me because of that influence. I only wish now, that he would have let me influence him in the same way to make the right choices for himself. Regardless, if he does or he doesn't. We will always share that magical musical chemistry; my door is always open to him & his family. If you ever read this, as I have told you many times, my car & I are always ready to take you…to an AA meeting. Love Always. Tune it or die.
No comments:
Post a Comment