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As they'd say down in Cajun country in Louisiana... I guaran-damn-tee if you join that band you're gonna find out just how much Mama Girl can jump--like all over your hindquarters!
But on a different note, I'd pay good cash money to watch ol' bc up there, uh, exercising with those purty young thangs while his Yamaha (that's a guitar, all you gutter-minds---sheesh!) is strapped around his neck.
And hey, your old bass player was probably just looking for a steady gig where he wasn't lugging a refrigerator-sized cabinet up two flights of stairs to get to the stage. That big double bass will be right where he left it from last time when he goes back to the hall. I played keys when I was a kid and willing to lug that stuff around to gigs. Now I have a monster of a 3-manual organ in the downstairs. That's where the Phantom-of-the-Opera Bach-type stuff gets played. Some fun stuff, too, but mostly classical. Upstairs lives the bass and that's where the Joe Walsh and Elmore James and Wilson Pickett and Booker T. and Stevie Ray and Beatles and Doors and the other music all gets played. One must keep one's worlds separated most of the time, except when quoting Bach in the middle of a James Jamerson bass line just to see if anybody can recognize the St. Anne's Prelude or a snippet of the "Little" Fugue in there. (Mostly along the lines of, "You were doing it again, weren't you?") Heh heh.... Been toying with the idea of getting some similarly-decrepit geezers together to play the music of our long-ago youthdom, but haven't gotten motivated enough to start on it. Might be fun, though!
"Fly the wing"