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06/03/2004 Entry: "Reise Kneipe gig"

I was waiting to get a ride to my gig today at the old Reise Kneipe, and I was not well at ease. This was the second gig where I played the entire evening alone. Besides which, last week's gig a Marakech with the trio was a disaster. The Reise Kneipe is in the Neustadt, not really too far to walk by any means, but I didn't want to have to go the whole way by foot bringing the Fender amp. I'm borrowing that from Ecki.

Just before the ride got there, a dogfight broke out in the street. The owners were not able to tear the two apart. Both dogs were huge, more powerful than their owners, and one was definitely a pit dog. He clamped on to the other's ear and would not let go. It went on. People gathered in the street. I called the cops.

The gentleman on the other end wasted a lot of time trying to get the spelling of my name right, and asked several times for the address. By the time I hung up, the fight was just about over. The one dog ripped off part of the the other's ear, his white muzzle dripping with blood.

I went back out and waited for the fuzz, but my ride got there first. So much for that four-minute response time Mr. Pink talked about. By that time most of the concerned parties were slinking off, so off to the gig I went.

The gig? Well, I played well enough. Despite earlier concerns, my voice was back in shape. Nobody came. Actually some people were there but they left when I started playing. Jenny, the bosslady, was not there because her daughter was in 'spital having a baby. We got the news just as I was starting my first set that the babe was born right a ten.

During the second set, Jenny came gallumphing in and corks popped. I made up a song on the spot, as I always do at gigs. It went like this: (in D)

Oh Jenneeee
She's a grandmomeeee
Since ten thirteeee.

How can that beeee?
She the boss of meeee
When I play th' Reise Kneipeeee

(recitation)

Well folks, though true it might be,
Jen looks not a day over thirteeee
Grandmotherin' must be a gas
And I must admit, she's got a great ***

(at this point the crowd paused for a second... Then they all went "Yay!")

What can I say? It's all about three chords and the truth, right? Well, I only used two chords, so I had to compensate and heap on the truth. Jenny really is rather foxy for a grandmother. Scouts' honor.

On my way home I stopped in the Spät Shop 'cross the street to get a beer or eleven. I asked Pauli if the cops showed up after the dogfight. He said "dochdochdochdoch", and a number of other things expressing concern. I bunched up my face and nodded showing concern, but dammit, I didn't understand anything else he said. While they know me as a regular because it's just across the way, I suspect they don't realize I'm not German. They just think I'm a simpleton with a heck of a thirst.

This is my letter from Saxony, I'm (the late) Alestaire Cooke. Gobbless.