Most musicians say they could write a book full of all the crazy stuff that happened to them on gigs or other music-related adventures, and they’re probably right.  One of the exciting things about being a musician is that you just never know for sure what’s going to happen “at work”.  It’s not like you go into an office and stare at a computer screen all day.

Anyway- here’s the story of that one time…

….a bass player I know in the Rehoboth Beach area got me hooked up with his band as a substitute.  When their regular trumpet player couldn’t make it, sometimes they would call me.  I like playing with them, plus I’m a sucker for the beach (especially Rehoboth) so I don’t mind driving 3 hours each way if I can spend the day in the sand before playing the gig and driving home late at night.

One summer, I was on a week’s vacation in the area with my family.  Several weeks prior to the trip, the bandleader texted to ask me if I could play with them in Rehoboth on the day our vacation was scheduled to end (aka Check-Out Saturday).  

That’s a no-brainer!  We’d just check out of the rental, stay on the beach all day, and then I’d play the gig before we left for home around midnight. 

But, after thinking this through a bit more, we decided that maybe we should extend the vacation further by booking a hotel and staying over after the gig, then driving home the following night instead.  Financially, it was not a great plan, but we justified it by just tacking the expense onto the previous week’s vacation budget.

Anyway, vacation week goes great (minus a few of us getting Covid and having to leave early) and I show up Saturday night at the gig.  The venue was a little bar right in the heart of town.  If you’ve ever been to Rehoboth Beach in the summer, you may have noticed that parking is a major issue (keep this in mind for later).  No big deal for me though- I walked to the gig from the hotel.

The bass player was there when I arrived and we started setting up stuff.  The leader was due to arrive any minute, but before he did, the drummer came in. He wasn’t carrying any of his gear. 

He walks into the middle of the empty dance floor, about 20 feet from us, and yells:

“Parking sucks!  I’ve been driving around looking for a place for 20 minutes.  Fuck this gig. Fuck this place. And Fuck Reho. I’m out.”

Then he leaves the bar sporting two middle fingers.

The bass player and I looked at each other with blank stares. I think we both thought he’d be back.

But he didn’t come back.  He didn’t call the leader and tell him he was bailing.  He just left.  We had no drummer.

We were supposed to be a dance band that night.  But with no drummer, we couldn’t function very well.  The bar was relying on the band to bring in and keep a late night crowd.  We couldn’t do that with what remained of our instrumentation.

So after a short meeting, the band and the bar decided it was best for all involved if we just shut it all down and closed early. It wasn’t really the best solution for me personally, who had just paid Saturday night summer prices for a hotel and was relying on the gig money to help me pay for it.  At least I had 1 more beach day to ease the pain.

But, the whole episode is a good reminder that the actions we take influence the actions others take. This chain of actions and reactions goes on forever, giving some level of meaning to everything we do, big or small.

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