Here's a quick one I was involved with personally, Marcus.
A well known jazz impresario named Dick Gibson used to promote these great concerts here in Denver featuring many of the greats of jazz...I mean the heavies!
In September of every year, over the three day Labor Day holiday, he would have this huge jazz party. The guests were invitation only, appealing only to the very affluent of the Denver social scene. There would be, roughly, about six or seven players of each instrument in the huge line up. For instance, to give you an idea of the typical line up for the basses: Ray Brown, Milt Hinton, John Clayton, Carson Smith, Red, Keeter Betts, George Duvivier, and eventually myownself....Only after two of my mentors, Eddie Lock Jaw Davis and Carl Fontana convinced him that it was an embarrassment to Denver to not have me in the line up.
I digress again...So, on my first concert, this HUGE half page ad comes out in the Post and the News....I don't remember the whole band, but the rhythm section was Roger Kellaway, Shelly Manne and PW. The ad listed the personale, then at the very bottom it read: AND, Denver's Master Bassist, Paul Warburton. Of course, I got a lot of jive about that every time i'd show up in a club and the guys on the stand would exclaim " Look! There's Denver's Masterbator"
Anyway one year, Jimmy was in the line up for the BIG party. As Jimmy would often do, he showed up outta his mind, drunker than a waltzin' owl. I'd just gotten back from a concert tour of Europe, and Jimmy sometimes would be on just before us when he was with Carmen McCrae. They would always provide a straight-back chair, rather than a bench, for him lest he fall off backward and break his head. One night, Carmen tore into him right on stage, verbally...Jimmy, indignantly stood up, stormed off the stage and yelled back at Carmen...I don't need this ****...I'm a DENTIST!
Anyway, after showing up at Gibson's party stoned, he continued through the rest of that day and night, into the next day in the same fashion, inspiring a few other cat's to take that road with him, including Phil Woods.
Gibson, summarily told him to go home. Jimmy went directly to his room, called the entire line up of players, their friends and probably some extended famlies, invited them to his room for a fabulous lunch of great club sandwiches, champagne and whatever other alcoholic treat one could desire. This party filled Jimmy's room, the one across the hall and extended, in both directions down the hall.
Jimmy split after charging the check to Gibson's City Ledger bill, which we were all free to do, within sensible limits, as part of our pay. Jimmy and Phil were just outrageous! It was a fine party!
PS...Everybody made it through their sets, except for one famous piano player, who puked on the piano on the last tune of his set.