I was playing in my first professional band, the Skip Perry Trio. It was an awesome learning experience and I owe a lot to the late Skip Perry, but that's another story. We were a lounge act, and the music was all over the map; from the latest Pop/Rock hits like "King Tut" by Steve Martin to "Come to Papa" by Bob Seeger to Country (AND Western), Disco, show tunes and lots of cool Jazz stuff. I had to learn to fake a lot of styles in a hurry and it was really good for my ears and my drumming. We wore polyester blazers and satin shirts with 8" collars- real late-70s, post-Disco wear.
I'm pretty sure we were playing at the TraveLodge motel on 20th street. It was a chain of mid-level motels, but the lounge anyway was done up really well. It had the typical dark vibe of most 70s bars...dark furniture, dark walls, dark ambiance and such; like a true "man cave" from way back before it was called that. Huge, dimly-lit glass globes hung from the ceiling. Massive leather chairs on rollers that probably weighed 125lbs. each surrounded thick wooden tables. It was a fun gig as I remember, but there was definitely an exclamation point to the two weeks we were there.
Billy Carter was in town with a bunch of his buds. They'd been doing a photo shoot for a company that made overalls. I'd heard about it on the news, and when I got to the club for a bit of dinner before the gig I heard he and his entourage would be coming in later for drinks. "Oh, hell yeah" I thought. Billy was well-known for his antics by then and I figured it'd be a fun evening. It didn't disappoint. I had to laugh when I saw them rolling in about fifty cases of Billy Beer. I heard that it was all on Billy and everyone was welcome to a few. Hearing that ramped-up the anticipation even more, and anyone who has their own beer brought in ahead of them has to be taken into consideration. Look out...
Billy and Co. rolled in shortly after we started. He'd brought about 7-8 of his buds/bodyguards along and it was obvious before they sat down that they were wasted. They still had their overalls on and it was quite a sight to behold. I think the name of the overalls was "Liberty," and that's certainly what they'd taken with the alcohol at the after-shoot party or wherever they'd been earlier. These days if something like that happened they'd have big dudes in black suits with earbuds and helicopters overhead and snipers on the roofs and shit but back then things were different and I don't recall any security personnel or even an off-duty cop. It was a fairly big place and although it wasn't packed-out completely there were the usual guests, locals and quite a few people who'd showed up hoping they might get to see Billy pull some shit. There was a bit of an amped-up vibe in the room and we played a really good set.
We finished the first set. The bass player, "Dictionary" Don, guitarist Terry "McStudley" (technically we were a quartet for a while but the name didn't reflect that- kind of like the Ben Folds Five) and I were about to go out for our usual breath of fresh air as it were, but we saw Billy waving us over. Cool. We walked over to the table and Skip followed. "Y'all got a good band" said Billy. "Y'all kick butt." "Thanks, Mr. Carter!" "Shoot...call me Billy!" This was getting good. He got up and rolled a couple of chairs over and motioned for us to sit down and I sat next to him. The waitress brought over a big tray of Billy Beer. I popped one and toasted Billy. It was a bit of a thrill I have to admit. We sat around and shot the shit until it was time to play. Billy and the boys were yukking it up at a high decibel level. I have to say that at least they were having fun and not hurting anyone, and Billy was certainly a happy drunk.
From being in the music biz forever I've met my share of "rock stars" and celebs. Some are really cool and humble; some, like the late, great Nicky Hopkins are phenomenal, and some are just plain assholes. Billy was good people from what I could tell. He didn't pull any "star trip" at all and he was hilarious to boot. He was cutting up for all he was worth but he never got crude or out of hand and that was impressive. He was a stand-up guy. Ha-ha...well, maybe not that particular evening but Billy was okay. He genuinely liked our band and that was nice. He never stopped smiling and there's a lot to be said for that. I hope he's still smiling.
The fly in the ointment for the evening was a curious local doctor who'd brought his kid along to witness the proceedings. Everything was fine until he started making comments about them being "rednecks." As loaded as they were they all took it in stride for a long time. They were all wearing overalls after all. Most of the patrons were telling the kid to be quiet but a few assholes were egging him on. He was a typical spoiled punk. Dr. Daddy should've told him to shut the fuck up, but again, spoiled. I don't remember how it finally escalated to a physical thing or who threw the first punch but it was on. Billy and the boys all stood up and shit started flying.
Besides the doc and his kid I don't know who else joined in or why, but within ten seconds there were nearly a couple-dozen people going at it. I was really surprised that anyone would mess with them to begin with. I don't think a one of them weighed less than about 265lbs, but I guess the other guys thought they'd be easy pickins' since they were so loaded. It was weird...like there were people there who were ready to fight or something and they just came out of the woodwork. It got ugly fast and I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing. People were getting thrown across tables; scattering and shattering glassware like in an old Western. I'll never forget the sight of Billy and a couple of his buds picking up those big chairs and holding them above their heads trying to throw them but only being able to teeter-totter and barely managing to hold them up.
The highlight for me was seeing them picking up those chairs that weighed half as much as they did and hoisting them up over their heads trying to throw them but only succeeding in weebling and wobbling and smashing several of the globe lights. There was glass everywhere and it was a miracle no one got seriously hurt, at least not that I remember. It really got intense. It was the typical thing at a band gig where someone starts a fight and at first the band plays on, but then as things escalate the band gets gradually quieter and quieter and one by one the band members drop out until usually only the drummer is playing. It's a classic scenario and true to form I played on as long as I could.
I've always said I missed my calling as a sound-effects guy for movies, and I think I did a pretty good job accenting their punches, falls, throws and all with drum rolls and cymbal crashes. The band picked up on it as well as some people in the audience and they were cracking up. Finally it got a little close for comfort and I quit playing. I was literally standing in front of my drum kit with my arms outstretched trying to protect my kit from flying tables and chairs and shit until Skip and Dictionary ran out and each grabbed an arm and pulled me backstage under protest. The whole thing lasted maybe five minutes before the cops arrived and broke it up. A few minutes later the FBI showed up. I didn't even know we had a local chapter. Billy and the boys; still juiced-up in more ways than one, were escorted out, and the good doctor, his kid and a couple other people were led away in handcuffs. I'll never forget seeing the stage roped off with crime-scene tape. Good times.
The next day it was front-page news. A news photographer had taken an amazing photo looking out from behind my drums out onto the dance floor and seating area, which had been laid to waste. I had a copy that I finally lost recently. It would be worth going to the library to see if I could find it on microfilm, if they still do that. I had a can of Billy Beer that Billy autographed for me, until I gave it to my friend George from California. He started collecting cans before it was hip, and he missed the South so it was only fitting. I wonder what it'd be worth on eBay...maybe a hunj? All in all it was a hell of a brawl but you really couldn't fault Billy. He and his boys held their cool longer than I thought they would considering how wasted they were, and again I don't know who threw the first punch. At the end of the day I think everybody had a good ol' time. I know I did. RIP, Billy, and thanks for the beers. That was fun.
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