Skip to main content

New Orleans trip, Pt. 4 - one vignette I forgot


After we demolished the insides of Mark's house and shed, we left the detritus on the sidewalk of St. Bernard Avenue to be picked up at some point. Among the storm-ravaged stuff were old amps, Drifters' cds and Mark's backup Fender Precision Bass. (Mark had evacuated with only his main bass, the old Precision with what I believe is an anodized pickguard.) The backup bass was in pieces and had been submerged in the toxicity for quite a while.

At some point, Robert went by the remains of the house and grabbed what was left of the backup bass and took it back to Memphis where he and his family had settled after the storm. I don't think Mark gave the bass a thought, knowing how everything else in his home and utility space had been decimated.

Earlier this year, when Chris and I played at Folk Alliance, we stayed with the Mache family in their comfortable digs. Robert said "Peter, I have to show you something." He pulled out a Fender Precision bass and asked me if I recognized it. It DID look familiar, but I wasn't sure why. Its finish was, for want of a better word, rotten; the headstock's varnish had pocked into a weird kind of hoary skin, very different from what it had looked like before Katrina.

He explained that he'd rescued the bass in pieces from Mark's house, put it back together, cleaned it up and got it working again, and he planned to present it to Mark when we did the Drifters' gig at Carrollton Station. I was very moved by this act of love on his part, and I couldn't wait to see how it would happen.

Well, it happened like this. Robert, at the Station, showed Susan the restored bass and asked her when she thought he should present it to Mark. Susan, wiping away tears, said he should wait until after the show. But Robert decided the time to do it was right before we played.

Consequently, you had a stage full of Drifters, all knowing the story of the bass and its return to its owner, all choking back emotion knowing we had a set to play. In the center of it all was Mark, reunited with his old Fender, completely beside himself with joy and crying, and he told the assembled onlookers the story of the bass' resurrection. I think everyone at Carrollton Station who learned the story of the bass was similarly overwhelmed.

Just another happy ending that week....


(Mark Walton, Robert Mache, Susan Cowsill and the bass in question.)

Comments

I like that! Rob Mache looking out for the bass player. Very sweet. Just from that pic you can tell it's a nice old p-bass. Thanks for the great story on your trip. Keep playing that.....
some guy named Mike said…
If Mark hadn't diffused it by joking about it, you would have been facing a room of bawling people. My heart was in my throat.

Thanks very much for doing this show -- you made a lot of people very happy that night.

I had to miss your Circle Bar show. I hope DC and the guys will be twisting your arm to set up some more shows here, and I hope it'll work.

Popular posts from this blog

"Back yet again!" says the Infrequent Blogger

(photo by Bill Reaves) I am inevitably confounded by the amount of time I let go by between posts here. My last post was February of last year (2022). You may ask yourself "what was he doing that prevented him from posting again?" and the answer is, of course, "nothing really." I forget I have this place to write my thoughts down for a waiting world to read, which would be helpful for me as well to empty my chaotic mind and make a little space. But since you're here and may be wondering what I'm up to, I'll try to fill you in. Mostly, I'm tending to home stuff. I do laundry and pick up groceries and a lot of domestic engineering that involves a broom, dustpan and mop. And sometimes that sweet shower glass cleaner recipe I found a while ago that makes it so you can see out again. We have a new junior at UNC-W and a new junior at Riverside High School, and they've been navigating their lives outside the nest. The high schooler just got her drivers&

NY Times blog part three is up

I know, I know. You haven't heard from me lately, and I'm sorry. The future's looming large, and distractions have been keeping me away from DTBMMLF. Meanwhile, the Times songwriting blog is up so you can go read that for the moment. I'll be back soon, I promise. Thank you for your patience.

Merry Christmas
and/or Happy Holidays,
whichever you prefer!

On Christmas Day 2023, my family found itself chilling in our hotel room in Chicago, feeling exceptionally fortunate to have each other and our health and love. We decided to forgo the major present giving, with all that accompanies choosing gifts people will like, and just have ourselves an experience for Christmas. And I think we'd all agree that it was a fantastic choice. We saw the Art Institute of Chicago (5 hours there), the Frank Lloyd Wright house and studio, the University of Chicago campus, the Museum of Science and Industry, and the Chicago Architecture Center. We ate Chicago hot dogs at the Billy Goat Tavern, shared a burger at Gordon Ramsay Burger, drunk coffee at the enormous Starbuck's Reserve, and been entertained/abused by the dancing waitstaff at Ed Debevic's. We walked around Millennium Park twice (the Bean is closed, unfortunately) and the Magnificent Mile and the Riverwalk. The weather was chilly, which Chicago thinks of as 'balmy',