Pete Woodman Interview
Everyday is the Best Day Ever
…waking life is a dream controlled
- George Santayana
Pete Woodman is an iconic figure in the early days of rock
& roll in Michigan. He was a founding member of The Playboys and the
Bossmen, the greatest rock bands in Saginaw history. Pete’s generosity of
spirit is legendary. He is able to give a knowing perspective about the
Playboys, the first great rock band in Saginaw. He was able to acknowledge
singer/guitarist Butch White as a great singer and player and gave him sincere
praise as the unsung hero of the nascent Saginaw rock scene. He helped bring
Dick Wagner to Saginaw and stood in awe of his friend’s musical achievements
with Lou Reed and Alice Cooper without complaint or comparison to his own
musical achievements. He has rubbed shoulders with David Crosby, convinced Mark
Farner to comose original songs and helped jump-start the career of Meatloaf. Woodman is a man of peace and when he says “I
love you, man,” he really means it. He was born with missing digits and a cleft
palate but he never viewed it as a disability or somehow limiting. Instead, his
birth defects were just part of the story. Pete embraces life as a gift to be
treasured each and every day…the best day ever.
When did you first
get interested in music?
My mom and dad were very musical, they liked the big band
era. Benny Goodman, George Shearing, Erroll Garner.I grew up listening to a lot
of swing music, so that’s how I came to appreciate music. My dad always wanted
me to play like Judd Hurley, the famous clarinet player. So that’s what I grew
up listening to, and my dad played the piano. And that was back when I was very
young – elementary school. The top 40 consisted of songs like Come On To My
House and C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt.
How did you get
interested in rock & roll music?
Well, that came from just being a kid and growing up in ’56.
I was in eighth or ninth grade. I remember hearing Elvis Presley in ’56 when he
came out with Hound Dog, and all those great tunes, so I was kind of into rock
and roll. I remember telling my dad when I went over to a friend’s house in
Freeland - our little town where we bought groceries and gas and everything. It
was cool. Anyway I’d come home and I say, “Dad, you will not believe the music
I just heard.” It was so bad, and I come to find out it was Hank Williams
singing Your Cheating Heart and those tunes. I said, “You won’t believe that
music because it was so completely different from the swing stuff that I was
listening to. I went, “Man, that music is horrible.”
When did you start
playing drums?
My parents had a group that they hung with, and they’d all
go to each other’s houses, and I was a little shit, and they used to tag me
along. When they started telling adult stories at this one house in Midland,
the Bennett’s house, they had a set of drums in the basement, so they’d send me
to the basement so I wouldn’t hear these stories and I’d set down on the drums and
I would bang away and I learned enough to hit the bass drum pedal and the high
hat with the drum sticks. I went over there a lot when I was in the first and
second grade. So by the third grade the elementary school started teaching
band. The band teacher was from Estonia,
Carl Midwaltz, and he was a war prisoner in Freeland. During the war we had
prison camps, and those barracks that they housed the prisoners in became our
elementary school rooms. Freeland was pretty poor back then. Midwaltz played
trumpet. After the war he came back to Freeland and started working as a band
teacher, and he used to call me Pater. He wanted me to play trumpet. I said,
“No, man. I want to play drums,” which I did.
The bass drum was bigger than me. I was so bad I’d play on every beat
‘til I’d get it right because, you know - I finally got it right. That’s when I
first started playing drums, and what was cool about playing in Freeland, they
would have other opportunities to play music. We put my little band together
called the Team Toppers, that was ’55, somewhere in there. We had guys that
were already playing music. They would teach us so Virginia Bradley would play
piano. Bill Conway played trumpet, and Jimmy Gimitowski who I grew up with. My
brother, Rocky, played trombone. We started playing like Cecilia, Five Foot
Two, Lover Man, you know, all those swing tunes. We started playing
weddings. We played the Chesaning
Showboat which everybody would know up there about the Chesaning Showboat. We
won it in 1956. Yeah, we were the amateur act, and I think Peg Leg Bates was
there one year, and the Ink Spots were there, and they were great. They’d come
up in a brand-new Lincoln, man, one of them old ’48, ’49 Lincolns, and they were cool. We were just
little shits, so we, you know, were a little band. Anyway, I have the picture
of us on the front page of the Midland Daily News.
Were you in a band at
Arthur Hill?
Well, that’s it, and I had it in my head to be a drummer. I
took lessons during the summer, practiced all the time, and then my dad finally
bought me a set of drums, my first set of drums. The band teacher taught me basic stuff and
then I got lessons Tom Piskos. He’s real famous in Midland. Then Billy Whitler gave me drum
lessons. A couple of times I drove to Flint
for lessons, but mostly everything I learned was through listening to records.
Back in ’68 I started playing double bass drums, you know. I used to practice
out in the back yard. I had two bass drums because they didn’t have double
pedals back then. They just had single pedals, and you had to have two bass
drums, so… it was cool.
Well let’s go back to
the first great rock and roll band in Saginaw
- the Playboys which included you, Lanny Roenicke, Warren Keith, and Butch
White. Everybody I talk to said it was a great band. Can you tell me about the
Playboys?
Yeah, sure. Lanny and I had been playing together since we
were juniors in high school. He went to Saginaw High and then I went to Saginaw
Arthur Hill, so we used to switch. Saginaw High would come over to Arthur Hill
and put on a concert and vice-versa. That’s where I met him. So we kind of
stayed together and we had little wedding bands. He played trumpet, and I had a
bass player and all that. Then we started playing out in clubs – we had Butch
White, Lanny and I, and Beau was the saxophone player. We started playing at
the Horseshoe Bar on a fairly regular basis. We had some bookings at the Drayton Place in Pontiac. We’d play there
I think four nights a week, and we stayed there. This piano player would come
in at like 12:30 am or 1:00 am, and we didn’t get done playing until 1:30, so
he’d sit in with us, and that’s how we met Warren Keith. So when we started
playing in Saginaw we asked Warren to join our band. We’d play the Brown
Derby in Midland and we played the Horseshoe in Saginaw, that was a hot
bar. That’s when the Four Seasons came in and sat in there once, and that was
spectacular to see them. We were playing that night. The Four Seasons were
playing in Bay City.
When they got done playing, they were looking for somewhere to go, I guess, so
they came over to our bar, and we talked the owner into letting them sit in. I
remember they sang Rag Doll and Sherry. We always thought they was a gimmick,
man, but it sure the hell wasn’t. They sang great.
.
Can you tell me a bit
more about Butch White? You mentioned that at one time that you felt Butch was
the unsung hero of the Saginaw
rock scene
Yeah, Butch White was great. He had a band with Gary Moskal
who was a really good guitar player from Saginaw,
and they were called the Red Dots. They played out there on Bay Road at the Ace of Clubs So they were
like before our little era, they were the top band at the Ace of Clubs.
You know, they were really good…and nobody sang Roy Orbison
like Butch White. That guy could sing, and he was a good player. You know we
did Chuck Berry and whatever tunes were popular at that time. He was famous for
singing Roy Orbison. He was a really good singer. Warren always talked about this guitar
player, Dick Wagner, so... Butch was
going to leave the band. I guess he wanted to be home more or something. And
then Lanny and I called Dick, and went down to Waterford and hired him on the spot – that
was back in ’64. We initially ran the
band but when Dick joined, we let him take over because he was the song writer
and lead singer, so it worked out pretty well. The Bossmen got big almost
immediately. Dick had a guy that he wrote with, Stan, I can’t remember his last
name. Stan joined the band too with Dick. They were like writers but he was
only in the band for, I don’t know, a month or so.
What was your first
impression of Wagner?
We liked him. He was
easy to get along with, he had a lot of confidence, you know. He was cool. Dick
Wagner was a great singer. He sang I’m Down in the same key Paul McCartney sang
in. So he was a great singer…and Warren
was a great singer, too. Warren played all the
Floyd Cramer tunes. I think, you know when we had the Playboys, we played in Green Bay, Wisconsin.
I remember Warren
played Last Date and we did all the Jerry Lee Lewis tunes. He would use lighter fluid and put it on the
keys and light it and play. That was great man. Warren was a crazy guy. Even after he had
left the band to go play with Hank Jr. he would call in the middle of the night
and “Guess who I’m with?” He would be
with some famous player. He was with the guy that wrote…I remember one night he
called, and it was the guy that wrote King of the Road, Roger Miller.
When did the Bossmen
really take off?
When we started playing in Saginaw – Daniels Den, you know,
we played the Village Pump. So we played there, and we were doing so good we
were packing the place. There were lines outside to get in. So that was great.
That had to have been ’64, somewhere in there. Dick knew Matt Vickrey who was a
famous singer, and Faron Young. He used to come in and sit in with the Bossmen.
He had a hit with Hello Walls. And when he sang that, everybody stopped and
listened. He was quite a guy. Dick knew a lot of people from Detroit. We
started packing the place and then the Beatles came out, so we did Beatle tunes
and Dick just started writing. He’d even write before that - so that’s when we
went to Detroit and did Take A Look (My Friend). Back then they didn’t have any
click track. We just rehearsed it at my house in Freeland and then we drove to
Detroit to record. It was the same studio that the Lone Ranger was produced. At
the time we were working real close with WKNX, Bob Dyer and Dick Fabian. They
made our record number one, every record we had, and so we became like…and then
Lansing, Grand Rapids, Bay City, up north, everywhere but Detroit. Detroit was
a hard to get into market for the Bossmen even though we played there a couple
of times.
Do you have any
favorite Bossmen songs or sessions where you were recording that you felt were
really cool?
Oh yeah. They’re all pretty good. They all went good. Let me
see, my favorite one. Bad Girl was one of
my favorite ones and they’re all pretty smooth. We’d bring people from
our fan club down to watch us record and stuff like that. It went pretty
smooth, you know. We’d rehearse it and I’d write all the drum parts. You know
we all kind of put our two cents in even though Dick wrote the song and chord
changes and we put in all the flavoring of the Bossmen. It was a collaborative
effort to have the Bossmen sound.
Can you recall a
typical set list where you mix up your originals with covers, like some of the
cover songs you guys did?
Yeah, Motown was a big thing. We did Midnight Hour and Knock
On Wood, and we did Help and other Beatle tunes and then we’d mix them up with
ours. When the Bossmen were playing at Daniel’s Den, it became our home base.
So we did skits. I think Warren played bass drum and Dick had the tambourine.
He was the announcer, and I’d come out and do a tap dance routine. We just had
a good time. We were doing little skits on stage way before anybody else and we
started wearing the 1940s suit coats, the Bossmen before anybody else. So they
were ahead of the curve, and it was a fun band. Everywhere we played it was
packed. We’d sign autographs. The Bossmen were like the Beatles in our own
little area.
There’s a famous
story about Dick Fabian and Bob Dyer. Bob Dyer told me that he took you guys
down to New York to get a chance, to break through, and they said that you
sounded too much like the Beatles.
Right, so that was true…but not all the songs, but when you
listen to them, now, boy I’ll tell you. Dick was so talented, you know. He was
such a great guitar player. He always had a good attitude about be the best,
play the best, and sing the best. The Bossmen had rules, like you can’t drink
on the gig. I don’t think anybody knew about marijuana back then. You can’t
take your girlfriend on the road. Of course Lanny and Warren and I broke every
one of them.
You had a marijuana bust at one time.
Right. That’s a sad thing that someone would set someone up
like that, but you know. I learned a lesson that pot and marijuana, you know,
they were definitely the same thing. I was set up. A piano player from another
band quit, and he got busted, you know he got in deep trouble, and they wanted
to know if anybody else was using and he called me up and wanted me to get him
some pot. “Sure, I can get you some pot,” and I didn’t know it was the same
thing as marijuana. I was pretty green. I was from Freeland, and what did we
know? We were just a little hick town. I remember for a long time they would
call you and try to get more, and I said, “No.” The Bossmen were really big
then, so it was like, it was a sad thing that happened, but you know, it
happened. I moved on, I got back, and Dick replaced me for about four or five
months and then I got back in the band.
You have a
distinctive style as a drummer. I love your drumming, the drum rolls,
syncopation and funky beats. You have great timing. Who inspired you as a
drummer? I mean was there a particular drummer that you kind of really enjoyed
and it helped you develop your style, your approach to drumming?
Listening to like big band drummers and stuff really helped
me, and then when I started playing with my record, like I knew every James
Brown tune, I knew the drum parts of every Roy Orbison tune, every song, I’d
just learn all the drum parts. So what happens when you learn drum parts, they
already got rid of all the bad stuff, so what you’re learning is only good
parts, you know. I’d play a lot of stuff, play a nice steady beat. You know I
played for the music, for the song. I liked playing jazz, and I played with Les
Elgart when I was 18 who was a big band back in the day, you know, Les and
Larry Elgart, Duke Ellington, and Count Basie and Stan Kenton. They were from
that era, so I just kind of fell in with that era, you know. I learned to play
swing music and stuff early on, before the Bossmen. So I didn’t think about
rolls and rim shots or when I’d play shuffles with the Bossmen. I’d been
playing all that for a long time.
Can you tell me about
some of your earlier bands like Popcorn Blizzard and how you got involved with
Meatloaf?
After the Bossmen I got my wife, Susie Woodman, to start
playing keyboard. I put together a little band after the Bossmen with a bass
player and a guitar player, and we needed a keyboard player so she kind of fell
into that, and she started playing. Now she’s one of the top players in
Detroit. When we played, we were pretty good. We had played some gigs, and we
were playing soul music and stuff, and Dick was putting together his band, the
Frost. He took over Bobby Riggs and the Chevelles. In 1966 Question Mark and
the Mysterians hit it big with 96 Tears. The drummer got in a car wreck, and so
they called me and asked me to play drums with them. I was with Question Mark
probably almost a year. We played all over the United States, and it was the
best time ever. Sue was our road manager, so she and I were together. We made
enough money in that band to pack up a trailer and my car and drive to LA.
Can you tell that
story that you told me before about how Question Mark and the Mysterians sent
all the money in a duffle bag back to Lilly Gonzales, and you had them vote on
whether to give Lilly her 20 percent and keep the rest?
Yeah, well Question Mark, when we were on the road we got
paid in ones, and we had three, four, five thousand dollars in ones, and we had
to count it all out. So Question Mark and the guys made more money with me when
I was with the band than they ever made, so I remember they sent that
money back, and I think they did pay her
because they were pretty honest kids. They had character, and they were pretty
green. I mean, come on, Frankie was 14 years old. You know before that, though,
they would send the whole take to Lilly and she would only give them a couple
hundred bucks after a tour …they didn’t make any money. When they were with me,
I helped them put it to a vote and they agreed to send Lilly her 20% and split
the rest, that’s what got sent back to her instead of all the door. Even to
this day, Bobby Baldarama comes up to me and he says, “Pete, we made more money
when you were in the band than they ever made.”
Well let’s go on to
LA and…
LA was cool. When I went to California, we used to hang out
with Question Mark. I had a couple of people to call that Question Mark knew. I
remember I did a lot of auditioning, you know. So I met Tommy Boyce and Bobby
Hart and the Monkees. They had this little office, and this was when the
Monkees were out. There was this Detroit band called Psychedelic Used Car Lot.
So they talked to me about joining, and they were looking for a record deal.
They come out to LA where I was, and we recorded the record. I learned all
their songs. We played the Troubadour, we played all the LA scene…that new
bands play. We went to RCA and auditioned for the producer who did Jefferson
Airplane. They were pretty interested. We sounded a lot like the Strawberry
Alarm Clock. Sam Lay was the producer. Sam took us into the studio, and we cut
the whole album -which I have the acetate to. I hope to put it out. They’re great songs. We lived at Sunset and
Vine, and we lived on Lexington and it was quite an era, the hippie era. There
were love-ins and incense all over and all the little tents were selling
incense and hippie clothes and stuff. I lived in LA I was there a year, and it
was pretty exciting.
One day, I was walking down the street with drumsticks in my
hand and I had a drum book, and these guys were standing out in front of a
studio and said, “Hey, we need a drummer to play on a record.” I said, “Okay,
I’ll do it. So that’s how I met Meatloaf and Ricky Gonzo. We all became friends.
Ricky was only 15 or 16 years old. We had a guitar player named Spagnola. So we
played and we had a little group Meatloaf Soul, our first band. We’d do
Smokestack Lightning and Sunshine of Your Love. We did a lot of tunes like
that. No originals. People from the record business would come out, and it was
amazing how they were shopping for people because they would drive all the way
out to Huntington Beach to hear our little band. I always wanted to tell the
story of when I was in California. We used to hang out and when you get to know
everybody, like me, I make it a point to know people. We used to go to all the
clubs and see the bands, like Captain Beefheart and the Byrds. I met all the
Monkees. I worked at a carwash, and I met Steve McQueen, a lot of movie actors.
Cream was playing at the Whiskey. So we wandered in there one day. I was down
there and just walked in and Ginger Baker’s drums were on the stage and walked
up to the stage and they had a stick there, and I hit on them. I didn’t play on
them, but I hit on them and they sounded horrible. They were real flat
sounding, and I wasn’t used to that sound, but man. They were great. We saw a lot
of acts. They’d let us in free, so we saw the Cream and Blood, Sweat, and Tears
when they first came out.
It was a year since
we left Michigan and we wanted to go back home, so I called Punch Andrews, Bob
Seger’s manager, who I knew real well from the Bossmen, and he said he could
book us so I changed the name of the band to Popcorn Blizzard when we hit
Saginaw. We drove back with Meatloaf who had a ’65 Chevy with a trailer. When
we came back to Saginaw, we played everywhere. I stayed at my mom’s house in
Freeland. I just wanted to tell everybody how nice it is to be from somewhere,
Saginaw, Bay City, Midland, and Freeland. Flint was like my stomping grounds .
So it was pretty easy for me to get jobs playing all over because they knew me
from the Bossmen.
Didn’t you play the
Grande Ballroom?
Yeah, all these clubs, you know. We played all the high-note
clubs, Silver Bell, all the festivals. We played a lot of festivals. We played
the Grande Ballroom. I saw the Who when they played there. We played a lot of
times with Dick Wagner and the Frost. Meatloaf and that band played there, and
we were real tight. See back then we rehearsed every day. I mean you just
rehearsed every day, that’s the way it was.
I heard it from other people your band was a
great band. What do you think kept you from achieving bigger success?
Well, I think the big thing is we weren’t a Detroit band. We
were from Freeland. We were just a little band playing. Some people wanted to
record us, but we just never did. We were getting standing ovations at the end.
The guitar player left, so we had about 10 other guitarists. We tried to get
guitar but we could never find anybody that would fit into our band. You know
we had it together but the guitar players would come and try to learn the tunes.
They would play so bad, Meatloaf would just walk behind and unplug their amps.
At the end of the night I had to fire ‘em. I must have fired 100 guitar
players, so we ended up with no guitar player just Sue, Ricky, and I were the
band, and Meatloaf singing. I remember I wore a clown suit back then, and then
we changed the band to the Floating Circus. One time the Detroit News took a picture
of us and they put us on the front page. It depicted Sue putting makeup on me.
I was the clown; Sue was the angel; Richie was the Indian and Meatloaf wore a
tuxedo.
Didn’t you release
Once Upon A Time in 1968?
Yeah, we cut that. We were Lee Michaels fans because they
had the organs, and Lee Michaels was an LA guy. So we kind of liked that sound.
We went to Bay City where Question Mark recorded their 96 Tears, and we went in
and cut a little 45. It was okay. It wasn’t that great. Once Upon A Time was an
original but the other one wasn’t. Sue played flute and keyboards, and she sang
most of the harmony with Meatloaf. The guitar player at the time, Michael Gene
also he sang. So we had two or three-part harmony at the time. Sue and Meatloaf always harmonized really
well together. We put that record out, you know, and nothing happened. Then
things started to dry up a little bit and that’s when we disbanded. I think
that’s when Meatloaf went to do Hair and went on to become real famous. I
suppose if I’d of kept the band together, there would be no Meatloaf, you know?
Things happen for a reason. That’s all I can tell people. David Crosby wanted
to fly me to LA to play with the band I was with when I was in Detroit in the
‘70s. He was going to fly me to record with him. You never know what would have
happened, you know? David Crosby of Crosby, Stills, and Nash, they were going
to fly me there, you know? I didn’t do it. I stayed with Ted Lucas and the
Horny Toads. We had a band called the Horny Toads in the 70s when I lived in
Detroit.
Did you record any of
your shows?
Yeah, we did record a few including when we opened up for
Crosby, Stills, and Nash. It was packed. I remember I sang a song, and I’m not
even a singer, so I can imagine what it was like. I have that tape somewhere of
that band. It was a really good band. David Crosby, I remember seeing him
after, and I said, “Hey, I’m Pete Woodman.” He said, “Oh yeah, I heard you were
a great drummer.” This was after he wanted to fly me to San Francisco or LA or
wherever they were recording.
We had mentioned the
Grand Band that you had, and that was a cool band with two beautiful women in it,
your wife and Ginny Seaman.
Right, and Danny Schafer was our guitar player and a great
singer. He was phenomenal. Dan was a singer. He used to sing Knock Three Times
and stuff like that. We were in Detroit, and this is when we were playing Top
40 stuff, so Danny Schafer, Ginny Seaman, and Sue and I, we rehearsed at my
little house on Eight Mile and Woodward, and the name of the band was the Grand
Band. There were a lot of clubs, and we played Hamtramck, and we played Detroit,
all of Detroit. It was a cool band. That was a good band. Danny Schafer left to
become real famous and play with Shania Twain
You’ve known a lot of
people, a lot of people know you. You’re like the most famous guy that isn’t
famous worldwide, but you’re talking about doing a book. How is that coming?
Yeah, I started it. Writing a book’s hard. Not that I don’t
have all the stories, ever since I’ve been a younger guy, I always take
pictures. I have every picture of every band I had, plus I have all the music
that I played with the bands, like when I write my little thing about the Bossmen,
I have all those tunes. When I played with Question Mark, I have all those
pictures. I’m the only other drummer to play on Cameo Parkway for Question Mark
and the Mysterians. When Question Mark
was in New York, we cut Cherry July and I played drums on that, so…
You know in Freeland
we went up to the ninth grade, and then when I went to Saginaw Arthur Hill, I
was already a drummer. I already had a great attitude. I always thought I was
cool, you know. I always thought I was a great drummer, which I wasn’t. So my
ma and dad gave me a really good attitude about life, about being positive and
when I teach drums today or I’ll play something, I’ll say, “Listen, I’ve got
missing digits. If I can play it, you can play it.” I want the book to tell the
story about how important it is to be positive; how important it is to care
about other people.
You have a great
attitude. You always have, and I love you for that. Can you tell me about your
band, the Hips band? You’re going to be playing soon with Dick Wagner at
White’s Bar, but what’s going on with Hips?
The Hips are a great band. I can’t tell everybody how
important it is to play with people that you get along with, that you like. I
wanted to put together my own band, so I found a horn player, Billy Furman, who plays all the horns, flute,
harmonica, and he sings lead, so he was worth a million dollars. Then I wanted
my daughter Sarah to sing with me so I had her on a CD. She came in and sang
it. She even sang the harmony part the same day. From that day on, she stayed
in the band, so today’s lineup is a great. There’s Sarah singing White Rabbit,
Raven, and Knock On Wood, The Edge of Glory by Lady Gaga, so she’s singing many
styles. She’s my star. Billy Furman is my other singer. We’d do a Sonny and
Cher routine where Billy would sing a verse, Sarah would sing a verse. When
they go into the chorus, two voices are so strong, you know. My guitar player
sings the third note, and so I always had three-part harmony and great
arrangements, a lot of dynamics. Oh yeah. Susie Woodman, you know my ex, she
plays keyboards with us. When she plays and Sarah’s up there, and so does my son,
Peter. He’s been a great rapper since he’s been 18, 19. When he gets up there,
it’s over because Pete covers all the rap, Sarah covers all the other stuff so
it’s quite a family band, you know. How lucky am I to have the people that I
love up on stage with me?
It’s a gift, you know. It’s the best ever, that’s all I can
say. That’s probably going to be the name of my book because every day is the
best day ever for me. They did an article on me in Saginaw. The headline was “A
Great Attitude.” That’s true, you know? I always wanted to be known as a good
drummer. I never thought about being a disabled drummer with missing digits and
my cleft palate. No one ever thinks of that. They still think of me as a good
drummer. There are a lot of great drummers, but when I’m playing drums up
there, believe me, I’m playing drums no matter who is sitting out in the
audience. It’s my time to perform, so it works out good. Having a good attitude
and I never, ever burn a bridge. Come on, my ex is my keyboard player in my
band. She’s like my sister now. We get along great. Even all of my old
girlfriends, we’re still all friends. It’s easier to love someone than it is to
hate someone. It’s just easier to get along, and I am a very good listener, so
that may be a secret that I’m going to let out to people, be a good listener
because when someone tells you a story about themselves, they appreciate you
much more because you didn’t interrupt them or you didn’t try to change them or
you let them tell their story. What else do you have in life but memories?
I remember the last
time I played at your club, White’s Bar, with Dick and I’mgoing to play again
when we play on the 14th. I’ll probably get up and play Baby Boy
with him.
I definitely want to tell the story about the Bossmen, how
we used to play at Daniel’s Den and how we used to go to White’s Bar on the
break, Lanny and I, and we went over for a quick shot or something, you know. Your
dad was cool, and he always let us come in the back door, and we’d run in and
get a drink and then say, “Man we got to go on in a little bit.” So you know it
was cool.
Pete & the His Band will be performing an outdoor show @
White’s Bar with the Dick Wagner Band on July 14th @ 5pm. $20
tickets are available at White’s Bar, Records & Tapes Galore and the Red
Eye Cafe. Rustbucket will perform the afterglow.
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