These are such terrific stories, I don't know where to start. Robin, you realize that if you put your Choking Audience Member #2 story in your next book, your editor/agent/publisher will make you take it out because it's simply too unbelievable! Truth is indeed stranger than any fiction a novelist could come up with. Oh my. But I think y'all handled it with grace and tact, and I'm glad the lady pulled through.

Hey there Monica! I know, that story is outrageous, but as I've said many times, you can't make this stuff up. I actually have a video of the event and the camera man was one row behind the medical emergency victim, so you can hear the rumple rumple in all its glory. The funniest part of the video is watching out reaction to the whole thing. The guy in the audience said: "We need a doctor." My German actress counterpart crossed her eyes, then I made this chipmunk face that I didn't even know I was capable of making. I puffed out my cheeks (think Dizzy) and stared into the audience black hole. Trust me, this is high comedy. And because the woman turned out to be okay, we can all laugh.

Greg and Tim, I have never played keyboard. I'm basically a low-tech gal and all the technical stuff always overwhelmed me. I can't decide if this is a bad thing or a good thing. But I love reading about your keyboard adventures.!

I'll be playing a wedding at the castle on Thursday evening, a rogue night for a Hochzeit (German for wedding), but whatever. Cocktail music from 4-6 PM, for, get this, 11 people. Bride is somewhat manic. Should be an interesting gig.

Thank goodness. What a terrible tragedy it would have been...

... to have that happen and not be able to tell the story.


Our drummer, who has is own load to attend to, is fond of teasing me with something his Dad used to say (usually when I'm struggling up a narrow staircase) "Be a piano player son. There's a piano in every hall". Grumble.


So you've finally hit the "big time", or at least the "high time" (Hoch-zeit). I know almost nothing of German, but it seems designed to squeeze the maximum potential out of a small number of root words.

11 people? Definitely harder to fade into the background, I'd imagine. I guess they wouldn't hire us (9 pieces).

I don't know Greg, this castle place has been known to host weddings where the band out numbers the guests. I played one wedding that hired a chamber orchestra to play a bridal dance medley. That's a lot of money for a couple of Strauss waltzes.

Too bad you don't live on this side of the pond—I could throw some work your way.

I do lose a fair number of jobs because I don't play keyboard, but then again the people who really want me to play end up renting a grand for me. And the place where I have my steady gig (and where I play most of my wedding jobs) has a beautiful grand that is well-maintained, so it all works out.

I played one private gig at the castle last year for TWO people. It was an anniversary dinner. I thought at the beginning it might be a bit awkward, but it turned out to be lovely. My life is odd, but full of surprises.

One of my earlier bands got a gig playing in a club near Kennedy Airport. Judging by some old flyers we found amid the broken furniture in one of the side rooms, this must have been a hoppin' joint in the Fifties. It was a big place with several rooms. The picture showed a packed supper club with people dancing to a trio in matching skinny suits.

We played there exactly once, sometime in the mid Seventies. It was a Saturday night. The entertainment for the previous several years, right up until the night before we played there, was topless dancing. Girls Girls GIRLS! 7 Nights/Week! Specials for Airline Employees!!!

1000+ nights of Girls Girls GIRLS!, followed by us.

There were exactly 6 people there, all friends and family of the band. They sat in one booth. There was exactly one waiter, surely the world's oldest. He was a tall gaunt man whose feet never left the ground. Each step advanced him about 3 inches. A round trip back to wherever the drinks were made took at least 10 minutes.

We think the change in policy was not entirely voluntary. Perhaps they were about to be cited for a few hundred violations or chased out of the neighborhood by a torch-wielding mob. Whatever the reason, that was probably the fewest people I've ever played for.

"Perhaps they were about to be cited for a few hundred violations or chased out of the neighborhood by a torch-wielding mob."

In Newark. Newark? Such a great story, Greg, but I'm having trouble bringing that part of the picture into focus. Newark's notoriety is, well, too well-known. But maybe the secret lies in "Specials for Airline Employees!!!"

Never mind.

Oh all right; it was that Sopranos Christmas verite episode, in a club in Newark, with the girls doing the pole dance to The Little Drummer Boy. I will never be able to hear that vapid lyric, "Mary nodded/ Pa- rum-pa-pum PUM" the same way, although it has some resonance with that line from The Night Before Christmas that goes, "And what to my wondering eyes should appear." Right on television, too... and "critically acclaimed."

Nightclubs used to be class acts. People dressed up, went out, dined, danced, watched the show. Some performers just loved them as venues, and plumped out nice careers with them. Their allure lay to the north of both your Redwood Lounge and your Airport Special kind of place. So, what... did it just get too expensive to operate them? Did they all migrate to Las Vegas? Did people just get tired of dressing up, eating, seeing-and-being-seen, being entertained, and impressing their girlfriends with how much money they spent? Maybe Go-Go Boots killed off Cha-Cha Heels and took the nightclubs with them. Maybe Newark got too rough for people with money in their wallets, minks on their backs, and diamonds on their throats to take a chance going there, except to whisk through on their way to JFK.

You may have guessed: I'm killing a few minutes, waiting for the frost to melt before I take the dogs for their morning walk. Twice this week, I've prepared nice posts--- actually on-topic, too--- only to have them go to e-mail heaven. All those great Mae West quotes! But now I will have to regain my courage. And in the end, I guess that is a big part of what performance is all about.

Just in case any of you think I'm Miss Hoity-Toity over here in castle wedding land, let it be known that I once had a three month engagement at the Newark Airport Holiday Inn. That place made the Redwood look like the Waldorf.

Just down the street was a motel that advertised "Hourly rates for short sleepers."

No pole dancers at the Holiday Inn, much to the dismay of the airport personnel and truckers who hung out there. They wanted Chesty Chesterfield and Her Twin 48's and they got me, 110 pounds soaking wet, sitting in the corner playing My Funny Valentine.


Clef, I love your musings on whatever happened to the golden era of nightclubbing. It was certainly gone by 1980, which was when I started working in the New York area. I always did say I was born in the wrong decade.

The Little Drummer Boy has perhaps the most comedy potential of any of the Christmas songs.

My wedding gig for 11 people (scheduled for tomorrow) just got cancelled. Okay, free money (cancellation fee). See? I told you that bride was manic.

The wedding is back on! Oh boy, this should be good.A woman who can't decide if she wants to get married, but still gets it together to book a pianist.

I do.
I don't.
I do.
I don't.

I'm just a girl who can't say n-n-n-n-

Yes.

Maybe.

Please don't think I'm claiming to have any level of experience or skill at this stuff - I'm nowhere near Greg's class.

And while I've done a fair amount of unskilled piano and organ playing in church, it's almost all been done on acoustic pianos or whatever organ was available. Usually that's an electronic organ, but not always. I played a couple services in a cathedral in Germany on a type of organ I'd never seen. The main cathedral had a pipe organ of course, but the side chapel had a small console organ, with just four stops, all the pipes folded up and fit into the console, and the blower in the seat. Not very loud, but fun!

I do think there is a lot that can be done with all the extras available on a keyboard, especially in a commercial setting. I was at an Arabian horse show and ended up seated behind the organist. He had some kind of theater organ? with all sorts of extra instrument voices and rhythm effects, and he used most of them during that show. That kind of stuff isn't taught in traditional piano lessons, but can add enormously to what you can produce for an audience. He dazzled us with creative use of the instrument and easy playing, rather than with pure keyboard pyrotechnics.

I also see a potential to combine a conductor program like Tapper with live playing. I just don't know enough to do it myself yet.

Well, it was actually near JFK, in Queens.

I used to perform on electric organ (with pedals) for local clubs, nursing homes, etc. That was tuff because you have to get used to all the different buttons and settings quickly. I usually only had a few minutes to try everything out before the performance. One time I was playing at an organ jamboree in Connecticut and thought I had the organ's rhythm unit preset programmed to play at a good moderate speed. In the performance, after playing the intro of Cumana, I clicked on that latin rhythm preset and it started playing about three times faster than what I'd thought it was set at! I couldn't figure out how to slow it down on the spot so just did the best I could with it. I don't know if Cumana was ever meant to be played at such a break-neck gallop, but people told me later they were really impressed with the way I played it, so guess it sounded okay.

Another time and place, I was trying to perform an organ arrangement of The Maple Leaf Rag. I had no problem with it on my organ at home, but this one at this place had very stiff-heavy pedals, so when I was performing it, my feet were going at half-speed to my hands. Not a good sound! That's the last time I attempted to perform that song on organ with pedals anywhere!

I don't play organ with pedals much anymore but enjoy using the different voices on my Roland DP now, especially the "twinkle bells" setting for the Christmas/Holiday songs.

Winter Wonderland

"I clicked on that latin rhythm preset and it started playing about three times faster than what I'd thought it was set at! I couldn't figure out how to slow it down on the spot so just did the best I could with it."

This is a great story, Elssa! "And the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon, Part XXIII." You are a trouper to keep it going to the finish line. I suspect some similar mishap is the way Ross Bagdasarian invented The Chipmunks, so who knows, you could be onto something big. But Roland DPs etc are not the only guilty instruments. In Einar Steen-Nokleberg's book, Onstage with Grieg, in the section discussing piano performance of Concerto in A he warns the pianist, "Only the best orchestras can do this," (keep up a tricky rhythmic entrance with the piano), "so, do the best you can."

I think of other Grieg works for a wedding, or reception, but A Girl Who Can't Say No would be just the number for Robin's Midweek Mystery Match-Up... if it happens. Rodgers and Hammerstein; in perfect taste for the reception or dinner. Just the instrumental version: subtle, but some people will get it. I guess German audiences like Broadway musicals as well as anybody.

One is tempted to speculate about matters that are none of one's business in a situation like this. An intimate wedding at the castle with a live musical accompaniment could be a sign of really classy people. Or a sign of doubt, and a wish not to inconvenience a large party of wedding guests (and to avoid having to return a large inventory of presents). Or people who don't have many friends to invite, perhaps having worn out their patience with too many previous fetes. Or a sign that negotiations for the pre-nup fell through (perhaps after excessive televison coverage of the Woods' too-public woes), but were revived by a successful counter-offer which included a publicity black-out.

One could devise other explanations, but I'm sure Robin will deliver a performance with polish. "I can't resist a Romeo/ In a sombrero and chaps" is sure to set toes tapping. We've strayed from the topic of tango, but that has a very catchy rhythm and I can't quite say what it is.

"Short sleepers". That is a cleverer-than-usual turn of phrase in an industry not known for subtlety.

The place I described, Pizza King, it was called (I'm sure there's a play on words about "toppings" and "topless", but it's late. You'll have to work it out on your own) was likely not the very worst I've ever played in. I'll have to think about it.



I can see the sign, lighted but with a few bulbs out, to drum up business:

"Robin Works Her 88s"
..........In the JetSetter Lounge


I think it was partly the rise of discos, which slowly replaced places that had live acts.


I'm trying to imagine the innocence of an age in which a girl could sing the lyrics to "Can't Say No".

If you're looking to feel outclassed you'll have to aim higher than me, I'm afraid.

But on a serious note, there's always someone whose chops are better than yours. The only real question is, when you play your instrument, does music come out? The world sometimes seems packed solid with players that are better than me, but I know that when I sit down at my instrument, something musical and a little magical happens, at least a fair percentage of the time. There's no small joy in that. Even if someone else might do it "better" in some quantifiable way, they won't do it exactly like I do. That's me in those notes and that's good enough.

If people invite you to play for them, in Church, at home, wherever, you must be making music too. Enjoy yourself.

Well, Greg, that's one of the wisest things I've read on PW.

Re; Robin Works Her 88's—

I am no stranger to the tacky marquis. The Holiday Inn in Waterbury advertised me this way:

Shrimp Scampi All You Can Eat Robin Meloy $4.99

Or how about this one?

Robin Meloy Delights the Whale!

Will post about the indecisive bride later this evening.

If we are going to stray so far as to discuss the stage names of Famous Strippers (another Jeopardy category in a now-crowded field), it would seem we've sagged from discussing Weddings as such, into the slippery realm of the Bachelor Party. But there's still a shred of cover: all the performing arts do have a certain common denominator. In fact, the dancing girl is a far more venerable tradition; surely an earlier articulation of the same impulse. I think, truly, that's it's a shame the Art has been marginalized and made as ugly as it is today, for talents are God-given and ought to be recognized and valued. They can be fragile, too, and it's a dark world in which envy can crush their possessors with such self-righteous satisfaction; it makes the whole place less interesting, and that much less fun. And that much more angry.

Hmmm... yes, it's the numerator that tells us how big the fraction is, and it's always been a problem that, with some performers, it's harder to get them to stop than it is to get them started up (that is why the Code Violation was invented). These wholesome regulations are often overlooked at private events, or disregarded, or even flouted. Now, I promised myself that I was not going to mention Carol Doda again, and her spectacular entrance on top of a white, Baldwin baby grand that was lowered from the ceiling; anyway, she may have been Famous, but she wasn't a Stripper, and White does not a Wedding make.

Newspaper reports of the day (still archived online) said, "There never was a show like it," and that's all I'll say, too. My point is that there can be tremors from these bachelor parties--- if we're going to go there--- and who is to know that Robin's midweek marriage didn't get a little shake-up. Maybe the bride-to-be had a mole in the bachelor party... or maybe the groom got wind of the bachelorette bash; you know how tongues will wag, and there is no Fifth Amendment. "Gosh, honey, I had so much to drink I don't even know what happened," is about as far as any excuse can safely tread on the slippery loading docks of December.

All right, enough. The vacillating vixen either will, or she won't.

Back to nightclubs. I blame those buzzkill insurance companies. What fun it used to be to eat red-meat steaks and flaming desserts (and no nasty green vegetables), wear real furs, swill scotch, smoke non-filters, see a show, punch the snoot of anyone who got fresh with your gal, then pile into one-mile-per-gallon Detroit monsters with no seat belts and drive home, good and fast. One knew that, in the worst of cases, the police would merely smile indulgently; that is why you could find a policeman when you wanted one back then: they were more popular.

There are still clubs, there is still dating. I think Greg may be on the right track by blaming the disco (though they were fun in their own way, but don't get me started; lets just say there was plenty of booty-shaking and no AIDS back then, and it was a good time to be young). I wonder if the decline in live entertainment might be plotted to the availability of recorded music. You know how those club owners love to save a buck. Hi-fi came in, nightclubs went out. I don't know; it's a thought.

Another thought is that what really killed nightclubs was the Leisure Suit. With the arrival of the polyester double-knit, the knell had sounded.

Well, if you think that's bad, just be glad you don't play the organ...tons of very bad lines/jokes with that: "Robin Works Her Organ Here Tonight".

Did you hear about the man who went streaking through the church? They caught him by the organ.

I think I heard them all back when I used to perform on the organ.

I'm enjoying all the stories here - very funny! Good luck with the skittish bride, Robin!

The Skittish Bride (love that Elssa!) showed up, but she was 90 minutes late and we all thought the worst. So my two hour gig ended up being 30 minutes. The other hour and a half was spent speculating about the reasons for her tardiness. You can only imagine. Turned out it was a run of the mill German Autobahn traffic jam.

She was very kind (although nervous) and accompanied by a wedding party of Belgians (Flemmish, not French) who charmed me with their warm smiles and cute shoes. (The Belgian shoes are second only to the Dutch).

More on this tomorrow!

I've been lucky. I've always been a sideman and thus have largely been able to observe agents at a safe distance.

Agents make a lot of money on each affair, and don’t want to lose a job on a small detail, even if the detail is a crucial one. If the a engaged couple says, “We really wanted a band with a horn section”, the agent would answer, “Oh, these guys work with horns all the time. We can add them on”. I can remember at least two jobs like that; three more or less total strangers show up with sax, trumpet and trombone, but no charts to play from. It can kind of hold together for songs with really obvious unison horn lines, like “Soul Man”, for instance. But in the main, the simultaneous improvisation of four horn players is a poor recipe for coherent music.

Agents will also answer, “Yes, definitely” to almost any question concerning the band’s repertoire:

“Does the band play a lot of Italian music?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Irish jigs?”

“Sure.”

“Cossack Marches?”

“Of course!”

“Klingon War Chants?”

“It’s their specialty!”

Most wedding bands do indeed keep a "survival repertoire" of a tune or three from several of the more populous ethnic groups around the NY area: Italian, Irish, Jewish. We knew a handful of Italian tunes, three Jewish songs I can think of, and a couple of Irish songs.

We also had a "Polka Medley". Our sax player would break out his clarinet and play the melodies to two or three, or possibly a dozen polkas -- I never knew when one ended and another began -- and the rest of us played the A, B, A and C sections of the Polka Format chord changes behind him.

One agent booked us for a Greek wedding, assuring the clients that we did indeed play Greek music. My Mom's family is Greek. I've been to a fair number of Greek weddings. Greek music is a specialty, not easily faked by the average wedding band. "Never on Sunday" won't cut it.

We informed the agent. His solution was to “add on” a bouzouki player/Greek singer to the job. We didn't meet him until the gig, and not even at the beginning of the gig, if memory serves. He showed up somewhere in the middle to play one "set".

In all the bands I've been in, I've been the semi-official Conductor in Charge of Music We Don't Know. If there's a request for something unfamiliar, I'll be the one shouting out the chords. Assuming the standard conventions of Western melody and harmony, I'm good at it.

But Greek music is among the most “foreign” sounding music to come out of Europe. I think there’s a strong Arabic influence. The scales are completely different, which is already a significant handicap, but the rhythms are the biggest problem. There are odd time signatures and they seem to change at random during the song, or at least they did at this particular party. I can't be sure if that was the way the songs were actually written, or if we were following the Greek John Lee Hooker, singing a line whenever it popped into his head.

It was bad. "Yanni Lihoukas" didn't waste any time showing us how a song was supposed to go. He didn't even count off the beginning. He'd play a few bouzouki notes and we were off.

He'd sing several whole lines on the same chord then abruptly change to another. I'd yell out "Beeeeeee" just in time for him to change back to the original chord. OK, I think. "When he goes to that chord, it only lasts two beats. I'll be ready next time". Except that the next time it was three beats, or seven, if "beats" were even a relevant concept at that point.

It was all prime numbers, of that much I'm certain.

I felt completely at sea, in a storm, at night and not even in the actual boat. We were on narrow skis at the end of a frayed tow-rope, struggling to stay on our feet. Every time I'd get a glimpse of what seemed like a pattern, it would change. And then the song would unexpectedly end, although "stop" might be more accurate. Before I could catch my breath and without so much as a preparatory nod, Yanni would lurch into a new rhythmic misadventure.

The chaos was wearing on me. Yanni had the throttle up full and wasn't looking back. Whatever I might shout out, it did no good. I began to feel that I was only adding to the cacophony, making it worse, in fact.

And then I had a clear, if self-serving, vision. It was like a ray of sunlight in the storm. I was making it worse. There was only one reasonable course of action. I abandoned ship. I walked away from the bandstand in the middle of what was mercifully the last song.

Yanni didn't seem to notice.

"Promise them anything, just book the gig." This was Pete Frank's mantra. Pete Frank was the agent who promised the Oakdale Army Support Base a snake dancer and sent ME. It was Pete Frank who swore to a club owner that I was the world's best organist, when in fact I had never ever played an organ. That was a four hour gig.I didn't even know how to turn on the organ. I finally figured it out, and then spent the night playing what sounded a lot like ice skating music. Couples only, ladies' choice.

It was Pete Frank who sent my dad's jazz trio to a client who had requested chamber music, and a string quartet to a shindig in West Virginia that wanted a jug band.

Soupy Sales once said: "I don't have an agent, I have an Egyptian curse." Soupy passed away recently. Let's hope wherever he is, he doesn't have an agent booking him as a snake dancer.

And why do agents often have two first names? What's with that?

Pete Frank is not his real name—Pete has gone on to that great booking office in the sky where he's probably trying to book Soupy as one of the Three Tenors, but Pete's widow, let's call her Franny, is still running his agency in Pittsburgh. Agents like Pete will book anyone anywhere, and hope that the musician can work things out when he/she arrives. Thing is, this usually works. Musicians like you, Greg, have become masterful at keeping the client happy, even if this means playing (Gringo) Greek music. I once heard a Greek wedding band play Elvis songs in 7/8, maybe this was you, Greg? Wedding was in Astoria. The lead singer wore an Elvice wig. He sang Love Me Tender in an odd meter, then smashed a plate. After enough ouzo (an hallucinogenic drug, if you ask me) it started to make sense. I was even singing along, in seven. Hands together folks, everyone join in!

After the Pete Frank debacle, I landed with a really great agent in NYC. Harlan Ellis booked me for a decade, on really great hotel gigs in NYC. I didn't play many weddings back then, I mostly did steady hotel work. But Harlan was classy and kind and loyal to me. I owe a lot to him. He kept me working for ten years straight in Manhattan, without missing even one week of work. I was very very lucky to have met him.

Over here, after several years of working with the German Pete Frank—let's call him Wolfgang Ludwig—I fired the agent and struck out on my own. My gig at the castle (where I play most of my weddings) is handled by my own office (which consists of my husband, myself, and an assistant). It works out beautifully. I have a nice relationship with the hotel banquet department. They trust me, I trust them. So far, so good.

Thanks for your post, Greg. that's very funny stuff, especially to those of us who have been there. Regards to Yanni.

What a pity we don't have an illustrator. The topic sentence of any of Greg's paragraphs could serve as caption for some really great line drawings. An illustrator could make hay, mowing them down--- and what might they do with Tim's Souza quote, "Never look at the trombones, it only encourages them."

I feel a New Yorker article coming on.

Maybe Parker and Benchley are smiling on it, from wherever they are... or--- who knows--- maybe Gahan Wilson reads the forum. If we're not on the Far Side already, we're headed that way. "And why do agents often have two first names? What's with that?" I've seen too many G. Wilson drawings of persons with two heads to wonder much about that one...

what an enjoyable morning i've had.. catching up on this thread.

Clef: I try to channel Dorothy Parker as often as possible. I think she was a closet Piano Girl.

Gee, have you actually read Dorothy Parker's stories? They are pretty dark.

I had a neighbor who danced with Dorothy Parker. He died a few years ago at the age of 99.

"Gee, have you actually read Dorothy Parker's stories? They are pretty dark."

Yes. And her reviews, and poems. And, some of her work as a screenwriter.

I think humor, as a reaction to the darkness life can have, is a courageous act. It is also a gift, beautiful for its own sake.

Certainly, it's possible to go too far; it wouldn't be everyone's dish of tea. Personally, I would hope other people would have a happier life than Dorothy. But who am I to cast asparagus? People choose things for reasons and needs of their own; one could name musicians who have crashed and burned by the dozens. Their sorrows are moving (truly, I wish that...), but the brilliance they have shared; well, bright is bright.

I don't know how to post an image, but here's a link to THE classic trombone cartoon:

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.motherfunky.de/pix/trombones-louder.gif&imgrefurl=http://www.motherfunky.de/tromboneslouder.htm&usg=__aKQC1oB7-cyJTUhUNc0hhgmDQwY=&h=295&w=600&sz=64&hl=en&start=1&um=1&tbnid=q1EBuSnjo3EheM:&tbnh=66&tbnw=135&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dtrombones-louder.gif%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26um%3D1

Thanks Tim! I've forwarded this to the trombone section of my husband's band.

Let's Talk Trombones would be a good thread, don't you think?

Funny how we've gone from weddings to tattoos to limbo poles to Jeopardy to Klingon War Chants to agents to Dorothy Parker to trombones. It's like stream of consciousness Pachelbel-induced wedding-pianist babble. And I am proud to be part of it.

A two-part question, Tim. We either have to hold up both hands, or hold up one hand and puff excitedly.

Here's the link to the file uploader FAQ:
http://www.pianoworld.com/forum/ubbthrea...html#Post908865
(there is also a dummy one that doesn't work; disregard it)

PW will send you an e-mail, which contains the line:
"http://www.pianoworld.com/Uploads/files/trombones-louder.gif"

Which you then copy, go back to the forum you want to post in and use the full-featured answer tool (not the Quick Answer), click "Enter and Image" and paste the line you copied into the box.