“We had a lot of good times back then when we played in Jimmy’s band.” Johnny nodded to Mike, reflecting on the past.
“That was some 10 years.” Swirling the contents of his glass, Mike continued, “We played some wild clubs on the Tree Line Circuit in northern Quebec. The nights were cold, the women hot and the drugs were good.” Chuckles of laughter came from all those around the table. ”Hell we’re lucky to be alive, but damn, we rocked.”
Mike, Ginger and Johnny raised their glasses, proposing a toast to days gone by. For traveling rock bands the road is long and often lonely, so chance meetings of former band members are cherished. Long ago cutting their teeth in the music business, they experienced the power of music. Emotions provoked by music transcend over individuals and audiences, the joy, tears and sorrow. The power to get people moving and dancing unifying everyone in a sonic commonality – all through the magic of music.
Johnny noticed Mike’s voice was developing the coarse roughness that comes after years of abuse from singing in smoky bars and drinking. Mike’s voice was still convincing when he performed even though he could hardly talk for an hour after a show. Ginger, still on the juice, was the best drummer Johnny ever played with. Johnny noted that Ginger’s face was still severely pockmarked from heroin. Ginger was balding noticeably under his baseball cap that had been on his head permanently for the best part of ten years. Ginger was always there, solid as a rock. Most drummers’ follow the beat, Ginger always led the charge with a steady solid beat, accenting at the right times to complement the various vocals and soloist.