Fri and Sat gigs at a casino next state over. Arrive home a bit after 3:00 a.m. and discover bass is missing. I instantly realize that it was left on curb in back of casino (I don't drink till after gigs, and we had to play past last call, so no excuses there). Hop into the batmobile (okay, the mr2) and drive the 40-50 miles at light speed. Talk to flunkies who radio someone who radios someone else, and after tense minutes the security guy show up and lets me know it's my lucky day. He takes me back into the bowels of lost and found. Tells me he took it out and played it and put his name on it in case it wasn't claimed within 30 days. Asks me if I want to open the case to make sure everything's intact. I laugh and offer him a few twenties for his honesty and help. He declines. The whole drive over there, I'm contemplating that the odds are pretty good that I've just lost my main bass. I don't really have a gigworthy bass as a backup right now, and I've got a really big show next Sat., opening for ZZ Top and Hank Williams, Jr. (are you readdddy for some ffoooooootballl?!?) and I am wondering what the heck I'm gonna do. I got home (for the second time) and as I finish this post it's almost 6 a.m... Took me awhile to take the bass out and make sure it was in good shape, mix a martini, spill part of it into my keyboard, soak it up by running a paper towel between the keys, and then finally make this post. It is my lucky day!!!! I told the guy at the casino that I ought to go out on the floor and see how far my luck would go, but alas, I'm not the gambling sort.