Chapter 41: The Way Things Go

“It was just me. Hi Paul. I’m Boz Scaggs.”

“I know who you are,” I said extending a hand.

“Lynn said that I should say Rockwell hired me and it would get a rise from you.”

“Oh it got a rise alright. Please come on in.”

I led the man into the Club and as we walked Boz asked about loading in his guitars.

“The load in is pretty easy. Not as easy as we’d like but better than most. Where did you park?”

“Lynn told me to park on the side of the building in front of the big green door.”

“Perfect. That’s the stage entrance. We cut the opening wide in case anyone still had a B3. What have you got?”

“Three guitars, a pedal board, and a portfolio of sheet music.”

“Piece of cake.”

I led him through the door to the right of the stage and to the stairs to the Green Room from the Club floor. Right in front of us was the big green door. I opened it and there was his rental SUV. Boz opened the back, threw the portfolio over this shoulder by the long strap, and took out two guitars. I grabbed the pedal board and the other guitar and I led him back in and up the stairs to the stage entrance.

“This way to the stage. You can just set the cases down anywhere and we’ll set you up later. For now, come and meet the band.”

I walked off the stage and back through the stage entrance and turned left up the stairs. At the top, I opened the door to the Green Room and we walked in.

“Holy shit! It’s Boz Scaggs!”

“Nicely done, Boomer, ya squirrel!” I just shook my head and turned to our friends. “This is The Savannah Band. Ronnie Cartright on keys. His wife Carla on bass. Wendy-Wendy on Sax. Lamar Gulliard on trumpet and trombone. Rodney Strong on guitar. And Bobby Banks on drums. We call him Boomer when we’re not cussing him out.”

Boz shook hands with all and was generally quiet and unassuming.

“We’ve got some food over here and in the cooler we’ve got soft drinks and water. None of us drink before a gig. If you want more, I’ll get a menu sent up from the restaurant.”

We took seats around the room and Ronnie, Boz and I sat in a group and talked about the sets and what he would like to do. The rest of the musicians just sat together and listened, offering requests and suggestions.

“Boz, bottom line is it’s completely up to you. We are pleased to have someone of your caliber with us. I think you’ll find that these players can support just about anything you want to try. Opera might be a little rough as only Lamar has any experience with it.”

“You’re serious?” he said in his soft Texas accent.

“About the opera? No. Everything else, yes. Because of my family, we’ve even been messing around with some big band swing tunes lately.”

“Well you may know I just did a traditional blues album and I’ve been supporting that this year. So I’d like to promote that. Beyond that, I’m open.”

“Then let me ask you the same thing I’ve asked all the other guys who’ve been here. What have you wanted to play that you never or seldom get the chance to play? Geddy Lee did some blues. Bonnie Raitt did some slide metal. Go ahead and throw caution to the wind.”

“Your wife requested that I do “Miss Sun” and said something about a new song writer that y’all discovered. I’d like to hear some of those tunes.”

“We can work all that out but I gotta tell you that without Monae here I don’t know how “Miss Sun” is going to sound.”

“Lynn said that she had a singer for us.”

“Really? Well knowing my wife as I do I’m not going to doubt it if she says it. As far as the songwriter goes, that would be Sofia Papadopoulos, our bar manager. This is a great story, she’s been writing songs but was too shy to tell anyone. We had a store manager who was a crook and she’d had enough so she quit. But on her way out the door, she left a song on this table. No name for the song. No name of the composer.

“We played it and it floored us. We even did it at different tempos and each tempo sounded different and great. Now we’re just a little old country rock band but to us it sounds pretty damned good. A couple of guys from XYZ Records are here to sell us on recording it.”

“XYZ? They came all the way out here for a song?”

“Boz, that’s their story and they’re sticking to it. Speaking of stories, what brings you up here? Last I heard you were touring the South supporting the new classic blues album.”

“We are but we had a few weeks of down time before we took off for Japan and I ran into Billy Gibbons. We were talking about different gigs we’d played and he mentions this place in Boise with the best band he’s ever heard. Well Billy is from Texas and has been known to spin a few stories now and again but the more he talked about it the weirder it got. Something about a little girl running around naked at a BBQ.”

I laughed at that.

“Yup that was Margaret Erin, my eldest. Our family is not into wearing clothes around the house and she thinks it is just so funny to come streaking out of the house and tear around the yard when we have clothed guests. I’ve spoken to her and she should be under control for the BBQ at the house tomorrow; plus she’s six now and I think she’s grown out of the urge. Oh! That reminds me do you have any allergies of any food restriction?”

“No, I pretty good. Billy said the ribs were especially tasty.”

“They are.”

Everyone in the band began nodding in agreement like a table surrounded by bobble-head figures.

“So how long before we go on? Can we do a sound check?”

“Oh yeah, hang on a second.”

I walked over and picked up the wall phone and pushed the code for the sound booth.

“Hey, Eddie are you ready to do a sound check with our friends?”

“Yeah, Paul. Who is it?”he asked.

“Would you believe Boz Scaggs?”“No shit? Oh hell bring it on.”

I hung up the phone and called out to everyone in the Green Room.

“Sound check! On stage everyone.”

Like with all times when we had a friend to play with I was usually almost killed in the stampede to the stage door by The Savannah Band. This time I was wise enough to get the hell out of the way and watch with amusement with Boz as we observed a bunch of musicians with a junior high sense of excitement rush to the door.

Once the instruments were plugged in and everyone had tuned up, we began the sound check and like we usually did the sound guy piped the sound check outside into the area where the crowd was lined up waiting to get in. We just did a loose jam with each instrument getting dialed in. Boz seemed to be doodling some sweet jazz licks and passages.

Lynn must have told him to bring charts with him because the portfolio he’d brought in with him had charts for every instrument, even for Boomer.

“Boz, you had a jazz album come out a few years back. Do you want to do some big band and jazz?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. Can these folks do old, classic jazz?”

“Watch,” I turned to the band and said, “OK it looks like a jazz night.”

“Straight, smooth, funky? Which style you want?” Ronnie replied. “We can cover Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Kenny G, Gene Krupa, Glenn Miller, Spiro Gyra, Weather Report, Uncle Festive and a few other styles.”

“Billy wasn’t spinning tales, was he?”

“As far as the band being able to play a lot of styles, nope.”

“No about them being the best he’s ever heard.”

“I can’t answer that, Boz. You’ll have to be the judge.”

“They’re about to open the doors, let’s go upstairs and have a bite to eat before we start. And I think the family is going to be here soon.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing that Billy was saying. He said the O’Dell family was quite the bunch.”

“We are that and we’re bigger than when Billy and the guys were here. We’re up to seventeen kids with four more on the way.”

“Four more? Quads?”

“No! Two sets of twins. Lynn and Erin are about five months along, I think.”

“Billy wasn’t crazy. You are!”

“Yup! He’s nuttier than a Texas pecan grove!” Ronnie chimed in.

We were making sandwiches and selecting from the fresh fruit when all hell broke loose. An explosion just outside the building shook the walls and rattled the windows. I jumped to my feet and opened the door to the main floor to see Blossom leading the children up to the room where they normally watched.

“Blossom! Is everyone OK?”

“I think so. The security guys are rounding up the family.”

Seconds later the entire family was up the stairs and in the observation room. Erin and Lynn were OK. Erin was pissed as she held two screaming babies in her arms. Lynn and one of the security guys had the other babies. Once upstairs, Lynn placed the babies in the rooms cradles and took off for the stairs with me close behind.

“Lynn! Where are you going? Are all the kids OK?”

“The kids are all upstairs. I’m going to kill someone.”

“Knowing that Lynn never talked like that usually, I caught her as she went through the door at the floor level. We went to the front doors. The big double doors were thrown open and people were rushing into The Club-Club. Some of the females were crying. Security was guiding people in and spreading them around the dance floor and making room so no one was getting pushed or knocked down.

Lynn and I went back to the stairway and she was about to open the green door that we loaded bands through but I stopped her. The door looked different. I placed a hand on it and it was warm.

“Don’t open that door, Lynn! I think there is a fire outside it.”

Lynn touched the door and nodded in agreement. We went back to the front doors and the crowd had pretty much come inside so we went out with a security guy with us. Sirens were now heard and getting closer. We looked to the left and saw the glow of flames around the side of the building. The security guy went first and stopped us at the corner of the building.

I walked around him to see three vehicles on fire. One was Boz’ SUV, the second was my SUV and the third was the car belonging to the head of the security group. I covered part of my face to ward off the intense heat. Lynn came around next to me and stopped as a couple of fire engines pulled into the parking lot.

They went to work quickly with foam and soon the flames were out. The Fire Marshall came over to us and began looking over the damage.

“Do you know who owns these vehicles?”

“Yes,” I answered. “One is mine, one belongs to our head of security and the third is a rental from the airport.”

“Any idea of who might have done this?”

“A few. Let me ask you a question. I’ve got a club full of people. I’m going to keep them inside. My concern is whether the building is safe.”

“I remember when they built this place. I did the inspection myself. It’s a solid, poured, concrete wall, reinforced with rebar. The fire wasn’t close to intense enough to have the sort of heat that would harm the concrete. Once the fires are out there should be no problem. We’ll want no more cars parked in there tonight though.”

“Not a problem the parking for the customers is on the other side and out front. This lot is for artists, employees, and family members.”

“So who did the rented SUV belong to?”

“Tonight’s artist, Boz Scaggs.”

“You got Boz Scaggs here tonight? I didn’t see any signs or notices.”