Anyway, after quite some time of blood, sweat, and tears I made the decision last night to actually go out in public and play the bass. This one was no small matter for me, as most of you know, because of a lay-off of more than six years. I have been practicing big time, for me. I was never a practicer, but this time I HAD to because I had no chops left and NO calluses. I called a couple close friends and hinted about my idea. One of them, Al, a great pianist ...who is also a pal of our Marcus, kinda figured what was up so he said he'd see me down at El Chapultepec.....a legendary jam session venue here in Denver.... in a minute. Al has been unbelievably supportive in my life lately. We have a lot in common....the most obvious: He's gotta put up with me, and, I gotta put up with him.
I knew Mark Diamond, my close friend and one who considers me a mentor, was playing bass in the house band and like many bassists in the area, has stolen a few of my hipper licks over the years....yes, I figured he owes me...he'll let me play.
I was about to pack up the Bohmann, because in this endeavour I would need all the help I could get. Even at this stage of the game I can still do something that nobody else around here can do. Play a low B pedal. Only prob with that is most of these mothers can only play in Bb. I can STILL make this work....**** 'em.
Then I thought... if I walk in with my bass (so to speak ) that will be a commitment to play....later with that ****. Worse than that, if there are people there who know who I am...I can hear them whisper to each other...."Oh, my god! Is that HIM??" "****, he ain't gonna try to play is he?" "WOW! He STILL has some balls!" And, the worst one, from some chick I don't remember...."Gimee my purse! I need my lawyer's number!"
Long story, longer....went on down. Thankfully, my old band mate Mike Whited was the drummer..we, along with the great pianist, Dick Hindman, were the house section at Clyde's Pub here, where we worked with about eighty of the masters of jazz in the world over a two year stretch. Mike's brother John, was the drummer on Scott LaFaro's first recorded effort with the Pat Moran Trio.
I ended up playing a hell of a lot of time on Mark's bass to the delight of the small, but cool, audience.
AND, to MY delight, when I got home I noticed something in my swollen, right index finger. It felt different somehow. I put on my heavy duty reading glasses and turned on my bedside lamp and there it was: A VERY small, but very lovely callus beginning to form. I'm very proud of this baby..I emery boarded that sucker and shined it up real nice this morning.........
A very small progress report. 
