The best part of this weekend’s story about Billy sitting in with a band of rock and roll youths to jam out Scarlet Begonias is the part where they didn’t know who he was. How did he get behind the drums? Wacky make-em-ups aside, I am guessing it did not involve violence. The bartender probably told the drummer, and promised him free drinks, to let the old guy play for a bit.
They had to be introduced afterwards!
“Gee, sir: you can really play. What did you say your name was?”
“Billy Kreutzmann.”
“Can you spell that?”
“No.”
“Wait, I looked him up. Wow, Wes Williams: look at this!”
“THE Bill Kreutzmann?”
“Yup. You guys want some pictures or auto–”
“From Go Ahead with Brent Mydland?”
“Yeah, sure, I did that.”
“Holy shit. And you were in The Trichromes?”
“For a minute, sure. You’re missing the big picture.”
“Wait: Billy of Billy and the Kids!?!”
“You’re burying the lede, Wes.”
…
“Justin’s dad?”
“Nice meeting you fellows.”
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