Some of my earliest recollections of playing in a band had nothing to do with music.
I used to get calls from Skip, an accomplished accordion player and leader of a Polish band. He liked the way I played Clarinet so he’d bring me in for gigs.
On one particular wedding the grandfather of the bride was very persistent in asking for a particular polka which Skip ignored. Later that night the grandfather approached us on the stage, drunk, steaming about how we had ignored his request. Skip relented, and we began playing the tune.
With his back to the audience we launched into the music, but as we went along Skip continually pushed the tempo faster and faster.
I kept indicating to him we might slow down because at this point the grandfather’s face was beet red. Skip’s succinct response was, “Eff him.”
In the frenzy the man dropped on the spot. The bride was crying as we all stood there stunned, but we had to finish the gig. We never saw him again.
What a wedding.