I have seen a lot of name dropping around here lately, so I figured it was my turn. I was Chubby Jackson's bass player for the last 3 or 4 years of his life. Correction, I was one of Chubby's bass players. I played with a group known as the Bo Downey Ensemble a.k.a. The Guadalajara Philharmonic. We played every Sunday from 5 to 8 PM at a Mexican restaurant in Escondido, CA called La Tapatia. The group consisted of Bo Downey on guitar & vocals, Sandy De Vito, who was probably the finest jazz guitarist I have ever heard (he played a $50,000 Benedetto Cremona that Bob Benedetto made for him and gave him for free), Wells Goodhew on drums, and either myself or Ron Black on bass. One of the neat things about this gig was that a bunch of the retired sidemen from the old Lawrence Welk band would show up and sit in with us every week. Man, those guys had some monster chops. We would sometimes end up with a 10 or 12 piece band. To top that off, at least once a month Chubby Jackson would show up. We allways gave him at least one set of his own. Chubby had rotator cuff problems with both shoulders, and had not played bass in years. In fact he had placed his old Kay 5er in a museum in CA (I don't remember where). He would sing and scat with the group. The man was a consumate showman. I tried to get him to play my bass, but he never did. He claimed his shoulder problems were the result of carrying that old Kay around for years, and playing it like he was driving it through a brick wall (his words). I think his favorite song was Route 66. He did it every time he showed up (in the key of G). He liked to start it with a 16 - 32 bar bass and drum intro behind his monologue (sometimes more). He would sing 2 or 3 choruses and scat 2 or 3 more, and every musician in the house would take a solo. That tune would go on for over 20 minutes. By the time it was over, I was ready for a session in a hot tub. He would blatantly ask the audience for a standing ovation at the end of each set. And he would get it. His wife said that he had an uncontrollable obsession to be the center of attention at all times. I think she was right. One of the high points of these gigs was the bull sessions during break. He had all kinds of interesting stories. My favorite was about the time in New York that some US marshalls showed up back stage looking for Trummy Young, who apparently had gotten behind on his alimony payments. Trummy hid in the folds of the curtains at the back of the stage for the rest of the gig. He then hid in Chubby's hard case, and it was carried out to the truck. Their next gig was the following night in Boston, and the Feds were there to greet them when they showed up. Trummy worked out an arrangement with them and was able to play. In July of 2003, I retired and moved to the Florida swamps. About a month later I read Chubby's obituary in the local paper. I sure miss Chubby and that whole bunch. Those sessions will allways have a special place in my heart.