The Diary of Elvis' bass player

This is the story of my life in an Elvis Tribute Show

Name:
Location: Peoria, Illinois, United States

Monday, March 06, 2006

Chapter 2, part II Crash course in Elvis

So, my first practice went pretty well. I had worked on a couple of the songs with Dad, so I didn't look like a COMPLETE fool. Al must have liked me and my playing, because he gave me a big 'ol Texas handshake and a Memphis smile as I left. At one point in the practice, I suggested that we end a certain song a certain way. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Let's play it that way once" we did and he said, "I like it. Let's end it that way." After that, I had it made in the shade.
Except that I still had all these Elvis songs to learn. So, I went to work. Tim, the drummer who asked "Which one of these guys is the Bass Player?", only came to one practice. Once Dad heard that we didn't have a drummer, he asked Bruce Moser, whom he works with, if he wanted to come and jam. Bruce came in the next week and rocked out the house! He was better than Tim, and Tim had been playing these songs for Years! Sucka!

Two weeks in a row, Dad came over on Friday night and we'd practice. He would show me some songs and we'd work on them a bit. Then, the following Saturday morning, I really looked like I was on the ball, because we were working on new songs and I wasnt' completly lost, like I would have been. This is a good thing.


Now it's Early March and Opening Night is only a month or so away. I know 85% of the songs, and the others will be a breeze. We've played, sang, talked, laughed, ate lots of Pizza and drank lots of soda, but we are really starting to sound good. I'm very excited about this. On a few songs, I actually set aside my fear of public singing and put my vocal cords to work. Next thing you know, I'll just be singing my wittle heart out on stage. Tom Jones can just plant his pickled old leathery lips firmly upon my pale underside.