ONE OF MY MOST BIZARRE GIGS EVER, AND IT WAS A FREEBIE
Published by Rick on Tagged UncategorizedIt was 49 years ago, which is close enough to 50, so let’s tell this anecdote. In 1973, we started working with backing musicians, as we agreed that the two of us with one guitar would have difficulty playing larger venues. Adding the musicians did work for us, in that we got to play a show at a venue then called The Village that became many names over the years. We played it when it was The Boarding House in the early 80’s, I played it as a DJ when it was a punk disco called X’s, and also played it in the 2000’s when it was Cobb’s Comedy Club.
At the 1973 Village gig, the other acts on the bill were gay-themed, thus the audience was about 90% gay. We discovered (this was about the same time Bette Midler first hit) that gay audiences love trashy ladies, and Ruby filled that bill, so we did very well. So well in fact that we were invited to play a birthday party a couple weeks later for a 300-pound transvestite who went by the name Lady Divine. This is the same person who dropped the Lady in their name, and developed a cult following from their first feature film, “Pink Flamingos.” I wonder, had we known that this was the same person who ate dog shit on camera as a grand finale to that film, if we would have had second thoughts.
It wasn’t even Divine that booked us for the party, it was a friend we shared the bill with that night at The Village named Pristine Condition (né Keith Blanton). Pristine had a minor cult following, having been a member of The Cockettes, a satirical dance troupe. Keith/Pristine thought we would be perfect for Divine’s party, and though there was no money available to pay us, we thought “Oh yeah, it’ll be great exposure.” We had no idea what we’d be “exposed” to.
The venue was a private residence on Valencia Street in SF’s Mission District that had a huge front room where easily 100 people could fit. When we arrived, there were probably that many, maybe more, already there, already high on any number of substances, and in varying degrees of undress. There was nothing in terms of lighting that was going to give us any crowd focus. Then there was also the problem of finding a place where a five-piece band could actually set up and have enough room to perform, or for that matter, breathe! The sound system was terribly distorted and not very well grounded, so we all got shocked if we got too close to the microphones.
With all that was going on around us, and wondering how we were going to navigate through this chaos, we got another upstaging. A young woman was brought in, totally naked, on a crucifix! Thankfully, she wasn’t nailed to it, only tied, but still, how do you follow that? We were just a little band that played oldies and had some little comic sketches to pass the time between songs. I think we might have been a bit too mainstream for this room.
While waiting for that little scene to acclimate itself to its surroundings, we were then told that a special guest, a singer named Kathi McDonald (1948-2012), who had toured and recorded as one of Leon Russell’s backing singers, and also sang on a Rolling Stones album, was going to sing “Happy Birthday.” She was very drunk, and bluesed it up until the song was unrecognisable, expanding its length to nearly five minutes, while encouraging Ruby to sing along with her. Bless Ruby for not completely losing it after Kathi accidentally shoved the mic straight into her mouth. Thankfully she wasn’t hurt, keeping her composure, and though we didn’t think too much of Ms. McDonald that night, she became a friend soon after.
At that time, there were moments in our act where I was soloing while she prepared a costume change. Not that costuming really mattered in this instance, as just about everyone in the room was out-bizarring us. Still, it was during one of those moments when she was off the stage that we enlisted her to literally “pass the hat,” so our efforts wouldn’t go completely in vain. Back then I often wore a derby hat, which I really didn’t look that good in anyway. I had it this night, and Ruby started to pass it around to see if we could get any pocket change. She lost sight of the hat until she saw a guy walking out the front door wearing it!
Losing that hat may have been a blessing in disguise, but for the moment, we were enduring a torturous 45 minutes where there was so much going on in the room that for our act to make any kind of impact was pressing the boundaries of reality. We were content to just lick our wounds and be thankful that even if we made no money that night, all that was lost was a derby hat and not a guitar or amplifier. But something good did come out of this debacle.
In spite of getting only courtesy applause from the few who were actually noticing us and liking it, we did manage to make a good contact out of that gig. An eccentric artist named Wilfried Satty was greatly impressed, and over the years we played many a party in his North Beach house where he hosted many of the San Francisco Artistes, some of whom we admired and were tickled that they felt the same way about us. We never met Divine again, but that night, they acknowledged us and paid us compliments. For that I’m happy for their mainstream success, and that the dog shit thing became more of a footnote.
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