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Parrot by Edwina Spooner

New Orleans House

Chapter 12

Don’t remember for sure how this gig got started. The show at New Orleans House on San Pablo sure packed in the crowd. What with the opening act—the Lackawanna String Band with Sally, David, Rob, and myself—then the swing band that only did Hank Williams songs with the singer who kept time by blinking his eyelids in beat with the music, and then Fluid Drive taking over for the headline act, the whole show did great.

I didn’t make any money, but then, money wasn’t the purpose. I just wanted to see if the tall lady with the rosy complexion and golden-red-tinged hair who worked in the guitar shop would come. Of course she didn’t, but the gig that night was fun anyway. And who really knows, maybe more than just that was happening.  

By the time the notices had been placed in the Chronicle and friends had distributed posters all over the south side of the campus and everything was set, there was one major problem: The band I had tried to create, the Jivey-Ass Boogie Band, didn’t even exist.


Oh yes, that show turned out just fine. Made some money, great dancing for the evening, and Dolly, the owner, invites us to come back and perform again.
But this one-time gig never intended to play out into something more. Soon after this time, the Jivey-Ass Boogie Band phenomenon quietly slipped into unwritten pages of local history that may have noticed a poster or two, raised a comment or curious glance, and then modestly coalesced into some sort of consciousness stream that may or may not have a place in the ultimate cosmic defining of a space-time event.

These photos not in the book.

Painting by my mother, Edwina Spooner.
She had art work I've never known about
until my cousin Larry in New Hampshire
sent me a copy of this one.

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