We met one of Craig’s friends for dinner, a
nice guy named John Langan. At the Berch- mire, you sit at tables, order dinner, drinks, etc. and then direct your attention to the stage for the show. It was another good one, this time with kids in the audience. Billy tries to keep it G-rated when it’s an all ages show, and one of his stories, which was actually quite hilariously naughty, he told in metaphors, making for a seriously funny bit. One of my favorite things about The Boxmas- ters is Billy Bob’s stories between songs. You never know what you’re gonna get. Some of the tales are the same show to show, but a large percentage is improvised according to his mood, the crowd, and whichever way the muse winds blow. The audience at The Berchmire was very
attentive, but also very sedate. Kind of a po- lite, quiet crowd, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Not the hell raisers the band usually encounters. After the show, I took Craig down to the
dressing room where we would meet the band. Billy was changing clothes and got stopped by many folks (as always) so it was a while before he made it back. Craig and I were talking to J.D., and Craig being a sports nut (and quite knowledgeable of a lot of teams, stats, etc) he and J.D. hit it off. The rest of the band were filtering through, and we met some folks from L.A. that are friends with Billy Bob’s wife Connie and daughter Bella. Nice folks. When Billy made it in, I introduced him to
Craig, and Billy made a bee-line over to talk to his L.A. pals who had just flown in from Italy, I believe it was. After they caught up for a while, I asked one of the ladies if she’s like for me to make their group photo with Billy Bob using her phone, which I did. I knew she wanted to be in the picture too! After they left, Billy grabbed me and Craig
and told us to come out to the bus, where we chatted for a while before heading back to Craig and Benildas home in Maryland.
The final gig of the tour for me was by far
the best. Newberry Opera House in New- berry, SC. I was given the opportunity of opening the show for the Boxmasters, solo. Scott Greene and I went down, where we
met Jim and Susan Brown. I did a sound check. My new Zager guitar sounded like a million bucks. I was in the mood! But before the gig, we all converged on a little restaurant called The Flying Pie. (They have a nice Greek Salad, fyi). Joey Parrish made it into town just as we were leaving the restaurant, so he stayed and ate before coming over to The Opera House. When I walked out onto the stage, I was
stoked. Just me and my guitar. I played all originals except for my adapted version of The Marshall Tucker Band’s “Fire On The Mountain.” The audience could not have been more kind and receptive. It was an awesome feeling. People actually listening to the words! After being barroom background music for so many years, I really appreciated this, and I told them so. I ran into Billy and he paid me a very nice
compliment, ant they went to work. I sat in the wings at stage left in a comfy chair, and Scott stood beside me taking pictures with his phone. It was quite a rousing show. Toward the end, the road manager, Tom, decided to mess with me, shining this ultra bright light into my eyes, just having fun, as boys will do. When the band went out to do the encore, a
punked-out version of Dr. Hook & The Medi- cine Show’s “Sylvia’s Mother,” I knew they only had one more song to do. Right before the song, Tom flashed that light in my eyes and motioned for me to go out onto the stage. I leaned into him and asked if he was serious. He handed me a tambourine and away I went to jam on the Boxmaster’s perineal jam song, “That Mountain.” Wellsir, I was loving it, beating that tambourine against my forearm and hip so hard that I was bruised up the next morning! On the chorus, Billy Bob motioned me over to sing with him into his micro-
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