Another Gus Story... (long)



Hi,

After all this flapdoodle about the intricacies of
gussing I decided it was time for me to relate a
story that gets back to the topic of telling
real-world gussing stories.

Okay... Longtime harp-lers may recall that I've
told this story before, but it's been a few years,
so it's gotten better. ;-)

I was doing a New Year's Eve gig at a small but
hopping club in Louisville where my band was
getting ready to play the second set. By now the
crowd was pretty well lit and this guy -- this
really BIG guy corners me in the men's room as I
was washing my hands. He smelled thickly of beer
and whiskey and cigarettes and other things I'd
rather not recall. 

He's got that "sway" goin' on and his eyes were a
little unfocused... and he had long hair and a red
bandana, and big thick arms sporting tattoos of
corpses with daggers through their eyes. Now, I'm
not a particularly big or intimidating guy, so,
needless to say I showed him the utmost respect. He
started goin' on and on, complimenting the band and
my harp playing... but as I went to go leave he
puts his huge hand on my shoulder... telling me
that, hey, he's a harp player and could he sit in.

I'm noticing his filthy fingernails, and I sez to
him that I'd have to check with the other guys,
hoping he might forget once we started playing.
Well, he follows me right up to the bandstand and
leans in as I relate his request to our lead guitar
player, so I couldn't tell Steve what I really
wanted to tell him, namely, "Help me get rid of
this guy. He's scaring the Bejeezus outta me." To
my horror, Steve blithely says "Sure, he can sit
in." The dope.

Okay... Let's get this over with. I tell Gus that
we're gonna let him jam with us on a blues number.
He puts that big paw on my shoulder again, leans in
real close and breaths in my face... "Hey man, can
I borrow a harp?" 

Crap! Now I don't make a habit of letting people
play on my harps, right?, and I tell him I'm very
particular about that, but he puts that big ham of
his on my shoulder again, kinda squeezin' like, and
says, "Hey, I'll ~buy~ one from ya." Well, I
remember I had a couple of blow-outs at the bottom
of my gig bag, so I pulled out a well-used Special
20 with a very flat 5 blow reed. He digs out a $20
and I give him the harp and he seems happy. Right
away he's blowin' on that harp, sounding pretty
much like I expected him to sound - so bad, in
fact, that you couldn't tell where that bad reed
was.

We start up on stage and right away Steve announces
our special guest... "What's your name, bud?"...
Well, his name is GUS, fer Chris sake! The band
starts up a blues in E and Gus can't seem to find
the right notes, so Steve skips most of the verses
and we get out of the song. Gus hands me back my
mic and seems happy as a clam.

He goes back to the bar, gettin' big pats on the
back from his friends and proceeds to play the rest
of our set from the bar... spending a lot of time
squealing off his blow bends, regardless of what
the band's doing. Even his friends were getting
annoyed. But the joint was jumpin' and the
celebrating was getting more earnest. Hey, it was
New Year's Eve.

Long about the 3rd set Gus is no longer around and
we had a great time getting past midnight,
bluesifying Old Lange Syne. After the show I'm
hauling gear out to the van and you-know-who is
passed out right there in the alley, face down in a
snow bank... a Special 20 clutched in his hand. I
wake him up so he doesn't freeze to death and he
sez, "Hey man, it was great playin' with you guys.
No ~really~ Thanks a lot. Where you playin' next?"
I told him we didn't have anything lined up.
Fortunately he believed me and eventually staggered
off down the alley.

Harpin' in Colorado,
- --Ken M.


=====
"When you speak of Walter Horton, the first thing you think of is his tone, that big, fat tone."
- ---Li'l Ronnie Owens

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