Musical Visitors
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ventually, I discovered that my dad knew a bunch
of musicians. There came an era in our household on Bartholomew in the Desire
neighborhood of New Orleans that I realized that some of these card playing
people were quite gifted musicians, singers, and entertainers.
There was an old WWII Army buddy of my dad named Louis Jones. The guy was way
older than my dad, loved to play cards, bullshit, drink beer, tell stories –
often he’d ask my mother to cover my young ears – and jokes. I loved the guy.
He was great to me and always brought me peppermint candies.
Apparently, my dad had saved Mr. Jones’ life during some battle during World
War II. They were in the same outfit in Germany in 1944. My dad seldom talked
about the war, nor did he boast of any heroism. But it was obvious that Mr.
Jones held him in high regard.
~~~
Years later, my dad whooped at our black & white TV as his old Army buddy
appeared on a new show. Mr. Jones looked exactly the same as I remembered and
he played the same song: That Good Ole
Mountain Dew. We were back on the res by that time and I recall clearly my
dad saying, “That’s my old buddy, Louis. He was at least 10 years older than
the rest of us and woke up grumpy every morning earning him the nickname of
Grandpa.”
The show was Hee Haw. We never missed
an episode. It was clear that my dad felt great pride in his buddy. He also
loved Buck Owens and Roy Clark. I dug both cats too, even though it wasn’t cool
at the time among my peers. I am currently working up an album of Buck Owens
covers. The guy was fun!
~~~
That became a recurring
theme in my life: the best musicians, performers, and entertainers that I
played with were people that most have never heard of.
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