Mar 26, 2020
A friend of mine, Kenny Selvon, was getting married, and we were all living in Los Angeles at the time. For his bachelor party, we rented a limo that took us all around Los Angeles to various places. Bars, clubs, whatever. And there was a lot of drinking and a lot of pot smoking. We did that for literally the whole evening and ended up at a club. I kind of looked the same as I look now. I guess I was about fifty at the time.
We went into this club and it was almost all really young people. The women in particular wanted nothing to do with us and they were all dancing in a way that—I was a 60’s person so I was shocked to see how they were dancing—was so tight and controlled. They all had their purses and wanted nothing to do with these old guys who were obviously drunk and stoned.
Subsequently to that, we went to Memphis, where he was to be married. He had a bunch of friends. We were all part of the wedding party. The wedding was not remarkable, but afterwards, we went to a bar. It was literally a Memphis bar on the other side of the tracks. It was entirely filled with black people. It was a Blue’s bar and they were just rocking out.
One of my fellow groomsmen was a harmonicist who played with Bonnie Raitt. He’s a little white guy, about 5’5. He goes up to the band and asks, “Can I play with you guys?” And they said, “…Yeah…” probably thinking it’s kind of ridiculous because he’s just this white guy playing with these very, very cool black guys. And my friend gets up there with him and he just blows them away, playing this bluesy harmonica.
It was a wonderful celebration of this wedding and this marriage, and that’s kind of the end of the story. That’s my story.