We are playing in Lyle...it kinda reminds me of Twin Peaks. Sure enough "Log Lady" approaches me...asks if she could sit in at break on my drums. She asked to have Thrash and Hendrix jam with her. I say...yeah...I guess it is OK, but all I gotta do is grab a glass of wine and then we are back to the set.
Log Lady climbs up on the stage and starts pounding my babes. If that is jammin' I would like to know what pounded the livin' daylights out of 'em might be. Hurry, get The Stones to regroup. I take control of the Log Lady. Back away from the drums, I'm 5'3" and I can beat things.
We resume our play list with fervor..what a great word for a windy night. We rock the River Rat. We are on to Johnny B. Goode, Chuck Berry style...which is the best and always will be. Then some crash...Betch's Breedlove takes a windy fall...from it's perch in a guitar stand. Jeez...that thing almost flew. No cops yet...10 PM...do a few encore songs....just to let Lyle know that we got gig. What a high. Can't get better than this road trip, first bar gig under our belts, guitars and drums. It's that adrenaline rush. Yippeee! Skippeee! Do Dah!
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