Gate

One of my best memories is, for my 40th birthday, my lovely and talented (and did I mention "lovely?") wife took me to New Orleans for three days, pretty much at the beginning of the week.

The beginning of this week was before the start of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Fest. In the middle of this adventure, I saw in the paper that Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown was playing a free little gig at the Louisiana Music Factory, a record shop in the quarter. Thrilled, I grabbed her and went down to the show.

He was awesome. He was a virtuoso. He played an acoustic guitar and was there with a piano player. Gate had it going.

In the middle of the gig, he decided to play fiddle, but he didn't bring one. So he told one of the record shop employees to go next door to the music instrument shop and borrow one. "Tell 'em it's for me," he said, because he was Gate and that was good enough.

The employee came back with a junior model, because it was all they had on hand that was strung. Well, Gate tuned it up, and let fly on some Cajun tune. Just great.

I always swore that I was going to see Gate every time he came to Chicago, and he came back several times. But, you know, the job and the kids and I'm tired and there's a game on.

I messed up. I'll miss ya, Gate.

thankyouverymuch,

Old Cleat