Musician life.

How it used to be back in the day.

As a bassist who has his own gear, his own ride and can sing, it used to be, if I wanted to do a gig over on a Saturday night, I could make a couple of phone calls and make some extra cash playing some music at a club for a couple of hours. A singing bass player who had his own gear and his own car, was almost impossible to find. It was called, "Writing your own ticket." In the later 1990's, it was nothing to be asked once or twice a month (or more), to sit in or fill in on a gig because the bassist was sick or out of town or in jail again. I loved playing in bands. I loved the energy of jamming with fellow musicians and making music.

We used to have rehearsals at the crappiest buildings with the nastiest, bug infested bathrooms. Garbage everywhere, cigarette butts all over the floor, empty beer bottles, broken beer bottles, blood stains on the floor, and the ever-present smell of fresh puke in the corner. Sometimes that stench would be augmented by an overwhelming, suffocating smell o…