Post your worst keyboard load in stories

[MonksDream]

Played a gig during an Ice storm. Jersey Shore (1988).

Parked behind club. Tried to unload gear. Guitarist and singer decided not to help the off-load.

 

I pushed the giant caster wheel bins toward stage entrance.

Door locked - wind-chill -4. brrr.

 

Ran in through front door, used monitor wedge like a doorstop - yelled over to the slackers: "Help"

 

 

How do you all deal with the slackers that don't seem to want to help move the gear? Been a problem for years. Either showing up late on the load-in or disappearing at the end of a gig on load-out. We work just about every Friday and Saturday and again Saturday night I found myself and the female singer rolling up PA cables, while the other 4 guys are nowhere to be found. The band leader is the female vocalist who seems to be afraid to challenge the slackers. Frustrating!

 

Cheers

Matt

 

Don't pay them until the load out's done?

[marino]

A few from the remote past:

 

- I did an electronic music performance with videos, lights, etc., so I brought basically my whole studio plus a whole load of other equipment. Loading and unloading the car was hard enough - but after the show, I returned home exhausted at about 1 am, to discover that the elevator wasn't working - and I live on the fifth floor!

Fortunately, one of my friends was still around, so he helped me to carry all that stuff up the stairs. Even so, it was pretty brutal.

 

- While moving my stuff to a new apartment, the elevator stopped working (again!), locking a friend, myself, and my Rhodes Chroma with case between two floors for a couple of hours. It was the middle of August, lunchtime: No one was around. When someone came to the rescue, we were both covered with sweat.

 

- The absolute worst one was when I tried to move a big vertical piano down a couple of floors, with three other people. We were all very young, and we didn't realize what kind of weight we were talking about. We ran the risk to damage the piano or ourseves several times.

 

 

[Jamie Finstad]

Last summer... Private gig on the patio roof of a 'heritage' building. Building was three stories with no elevator. Very narrow and twisting staircases. Plus one final narrow staircase to get to the roof.

 

I'm too old for schlepping gear like this...

 

Jamie

[eric]

I've done SO MANY of the freight elevator through hallways, wet kitchens, etc. In fact, I'd say more than 50% of my usual gigs involve stinky loading docks next to the dumpster, hoisting gear up onto the dock, onto a cart (or not), into a decrepit freight elevator, snaking through catering staff, etc. I've gotten numb to this and it always sucks.

 

The worst example I can think of was a gig last summer when our band load-in conflicted with the florist load-in. The florist had like 3 cube trucks and they kept on hogging the single freight elevator. We would make one trip up crammed in there with a bunch of flowers and then the flower people would stall the elevator on a different level while we waited like 30 min in between for the elevator to become available again. This happened during load in and load out and the load out was made worse by the florist trucks blocking the band. Even though we were totally loaded out, we had to wait longer for the flower trucks to get out of the way. Ridiculous.

 

The other flavor of load ins that suck are when you're doing a gig with many other bands sharing the same stage. You have to get your gear kind of set up on the sidelines, play a quick set and then immediately pack up while stage crew is putting pressure to get the next band out there. I had this happen to an extent in Nashville last week and it was kinda stressful when this dude on stage, the monitor guy, wanted to snatch my NE3 to help get it off stage and he did not even have visibility to my flight case. No telling where he would have put it if I did not notice and advise him "thanks, but I'll pack up the keyboards."

[Chris Link]

How do you all deal with the slackers that don't seem to want to help move the gear? Been a problem for years. Either showing up late on the load-in or disappearing at the end of a gig on load-out. We work just about every Friday and Saturday and again Saturday night I found myself and the female singer rolling up PA cables, while the other 4 guys are nowhere to be found. The band leader is the female vocalist who seems to be afraid to challenge the slackers. Frustrating!

 

Cheers

Matt

 

A while back, someone told a story on a similar thread about a guitar player (of course) who always disappeared when it was time to load out. They always packed up his stuff (To be honest, I'm not that nice), but this time they just left his gear behind. That woulda happened the first time for me.

 

The "no pay until everything is loaded up" would also work.

 

A friend who used to schlep a Hammond and pair of Leslies always said, justifiably, that for weight distribution reasons, his stuff had to go in the front of the trailer (It was his trailer). So nobody's gear got loaded until they had helped move his stuff.

[SpaceNorman]

Worst load in for me was a wedding reception we played a couple of years back at a place called "A Matter Of Taste". It was a gorgeous room ... not too big, not tiny ... cozy sort of room with a glass wall overlooking a lake. The bad part was it was on the second floor with the load-in being through a service entrance off the kitchen and up a set of greasy metal steps that had two 180 degree "switchbacks between the floors. One of the landings on the switchback had some metal lockers on it.

 

Band member "day gig" workschedules, the wedding party's plans and the venue's demands seemingly conspired against me - and it ended up that the best solution was for me to bring my teenage son and schlepp the PA and my keyboard rig in with him. Oh well...you do what you gotta do right?

 

He and I were halfway loaded in - when as we carried a bass cabinet up the steps, I slipped on the greasy steps and fell. In the process - I sliced my left wrist but good on the edge of the metal lockers. The slice was roughly 2 inches long and literally wrapped itself around the bottom of my wrist. It was was deep - completely through the skin - exposing the muscle below but not so deep that cut the muscle itself - meaning that it barely bled at all. I wrapped the wrist in a clean towel, finished the load in - and then left my son to babysit the gear until the rest of the band showed up - while I drove myself to a nearby hospital.

 

Fortunately, the E.R. was pretty much dead. When I sat down with the registrar and pulled back the towel to show her the slice - she took one look and immediately took me back to a treatment room. I let it be known that how it happened and that if I didn't get patched up quickly there would be no reception entertainment - the nurses and female E.R. physician really shifted into high gear. They did some hellacious multi-tasking. At one point, I was laying on my tummy with my arm outstretched at my side as the doc was stitching it up while signing paperwork with my other hand as nurse held the clipboard. When it was all said and done - I was in and out in 27 minutes - while recieving a tetanus shot, 15 stitches and a "to go" order of vicadin in the process.

 

I made it back to the venue in time to finish setup, do sound check and get changed in my tux and start the gig on time!

 

 

[Outkaster]

Worst load in for me was a wedding reception we played a couple of years back at a place called "A Matter Of Taste". It was a gorgeous room ... not too big, not tiny ... cozy sort of room with a glass wall overlooking a lake. The bad part was it was on the second floor with the load-in being through a service entrance off the kitchen and up a set of greasy metal steps that had two 180 degree "switchbacks between the floors. One of the landings on the switchback had some metal lockers on it.

 

Band member "day gig" workschedules, the wedding party's plans and the venue's demands seemingly conspired against me - and it ended up that the best solution was for me to bring my teenage son and schlepp the PA and my keyboard rig in with him. Oh well...you do what you gotta do right?

 

That does suck.

 

He and I were halfway loaded in - when as we carried a bass cabinet up the steps, I slipped on the greasy steps and fell. In the process - I sliced my left wrist but good on the edge of the metal lockers. The slice was roughly 2 inches long and literally wrapped itself around the bottom of my wrist. It was was deep - completely through the skin - exposing the muscle below but not so deep that cut the muscle itself - meaning that it barely bled at all. I wrapped the wrist in a clean towel, finished the load in - and then left my son to babysit the gear until the rest of the band showed up - while I drove myself to a nearby hospital.

 

Fortunately, the E.R. was pretty much dead. When I sat down with the registrar and pulled back the towel to show her the slice - she took one look and immediately took me back to a treatment room. I let it be known that how it happened and that if I didn't get patched up quickly there would be no reception entertainment - the nurses and female E.R. physician really shifted into high gear. They did some hellacious multi-tasking. At one point, I was laying on my tummy with my arm outstretched at my side as the doc was stitching it up while signing paperwork with my other hand as nurse held the clipboard. When it was all said and done - I was in and out in 27 minutes - while recieving a tetanus shot, 15 stitches and a "to go" order of vicadin in the process.

 

I made it back to the venue in time to finish setup, do sound check and get changed in my tux and start the gig on time!

 

 

That does suck.

[wineandkeyz]

I've been at this a long time, so there are many horror stories. But the two that came to mind first are:

 

1. Massanutten Ski Resort in Massanutten, VA. Used to play gigs at the lounge on the top floor of their main building. To get there, you had to park at one end of the building, schlep everything to the other end, go up 4 or 5 flights of stairs (no elevator). That was bad enough, but on at least one occasion, they had the snow-making machines running full blast at the end of the night, so it was like loading out through a blizzard.

 

2. About 10 years ago, I had hernia surgery that was scheduled a week or so before a gig. I was in a 5-piece band, but 3 of us -- the drummer, guitarist, and I -- usually ended up doing all the work at load in and load out. The bass player and chick singer always either showed up too late to help out, or did little to nothing if they accidentally DID show up on time. Because of my surgery, I specifically told the two of them they HAD to be there at load in, because I wasn't supposed to lift anything. To make it worse, we had a sub filling in on drums, so if they didn't help, it would be up to our guitarist and a sub to do everything. Needless to say, they ignored me. Only the drummer, guitarist, and I showed up at load in. The two of them had to do it all, while I tried to contribute as best I could. The singer showed up 15 minutes before we were scheduled to start playing. She didn't even have the decency to apologize. Instead, the first words out of her mouth were "I thought we were playing outside on the patio." (The forecast called for rain, so we set up inside). Our bass player didn't show up until 10 minutes AFTER we were scheduled to start. Again, no apology. As you can imagine, that was the end of that band.

[Mr. Nightime]

I don't know if this is as bad as some of the others, but this was consistant. We would play this club one weekend every couple months. And, the others in the band were slackers as well.

 

I'm glad I had the XB-2 for this, otherwise it would have been nearly impossible, but as it was I had to carry, by myself, up a long flight of stairs with a landing where a first flight would normally end, a CP70B (both pieces) AND a 147 Leslie. For some reason, the other members were always midding when it came time for that.

[Tonysounds]

The worst regular load in ever:Frankies Blue Room in Naperville, IL; you had to drive into an alley only 1/4 block long (one way), carry gear up 3 flights of metal fire escape. My rig: cut down Hammond Chopper, 122 leslie, Roland A90 keyboard, ridiculously heavy 12 space Mesa Boogie Rack holding power amp and more, 3way 15" speaker cabinet, and case full of pedals and cables. TERRIBLE.

 

Worst isolated load in was when we were on an AFE tour and had a stop in Guam. They last-minute'd us into this stop, so we were on a plane for 9 hours, we get off the plane at 8pm, get all our gear (and PA) off the pallets and into a moving truck, and this absolutely TERRIBLE Point of Contact had made NO accommodations for us: not dinner, not a snack, not a hot shower, nothing, just "get your gear, we'll take it to the Kamikaze Klub, you'll set up, you'll start playing at 10, go to about 2am, tear it down, and by then it will be about 3am, and we'll pick you up at 4am and get you to the plane." We thought she was kidding. She Was Not.

 

While everyone else just sat there in stunned silence in the back of this dark truck, I decided I would take the reins for a while. "Um, excuse me ma'am, we haven't had anything to eat in about 10 hours, we're exhausted. You mean to tell me you brought us way the f@ck out to Guam and didn't even expect to feed us? Is this your FIRST rodeo?" She apologized, drove us to the open McDonald's drive in, told us we can order anything we want, but they only take American money. (Meaning, we better have some.) We order, and of course pay for our food. She delivers us to said "Klub Kamikaze", and there is no help for us there. We're plenty exhausted, there's about 3 people in this club, they're listening to godawful eurodisco at maximum f'n volume. We tell her we're only going to need the acoustic guitars, and she proceeds to tell us she thought we were a rock band. I proceed to tell her we thought we were going to be met by someone who knew what the f'k she was doing, like on all the other bases, and not landing at Guantanamo Bay and being forced into slave labor without so much a courtesy as a burger and a beer. We proceed to empty the truck and bring into said horror bar, set it up, play the fastest set we can, tear it down, and have it waiting for her stupid @ss. She shows up 40 minutes late because she was sleeping (lucky her) and had to be roused, and then tells us we have 3 hours now until the plane, and drives us to our barracks. And then has the unmitigated gall to tell us "Do NOT leave your barracks until I come pick you up."

Needless to say, those of us of that particular strain that tends to not like to be told what to do decide that not only are we not going to stay in our barracks, but we are going off-base to explore all the seediness and nightlife that Guam has to offer. And we did. When we hit checkpoint Charlie, we give Margaret Cho's (not her real name, but she bore a remarkable likeness to same) name as our 'authorization to leave camp', and proceed to disappear for about 5 hours into daylight. Wouldn't you know it, instead of us making her late, she was sleeping again and the guys were outside with their bags packed (not that they had time to unpack) waiting for it/her. She was not happy to smell two quite drunken musicians on her watch, and was even less happy to watch us intentionally bang every single piece of equipment into every wall possible between the truck, through the "airport" office, through security, and through the loading dock. I was never so happy to have flight cases for my gear as that particular trip when I banged a nice 99lb Roland XV88 in a flight case into every door jam, corner wall and desk I could.

 

After our report back to AFE we heard Cho was fired.

 

We played a prison once, and that had a very interesting security check, but I think I;ve stolen enough bandwidth already.

 

 

[ITGITC]

We played a prison once, and that had a very interesting security check, but I think I;ve stolen enough bandwidth already.

 

 

Damn.

 

And it was just starting to get kinda ummmmm, compelling.

 

 

[ProfD]

We played a prison once, and that had a very interesting security check, but I think I;ve stolen enough bandwidth already.

I've down two prison gigs where the security check was totally painless.

 

The load in/out wasn't an issue. Inmates helped with the gear.

 

The weirdest parts were running into homies begging for money and having to play behind a rope.

 

While the place was filled with dudes i.e. inmates, guards and the band, there was still a feeling of us and them. But, the cats really enjoyed the music and partied.

 

Gig went well enough that we got called back to play at the annual picnic which was an outdoor event open to inmate family members and friends.

 

Again, very easy security check, load in and out. Inmates were allowed to do stage detail.

 

The number of females that showed up for this particular gig was simply mind-blowing. Further proof that women love 'bad' dudes.

 

[tucktronix]

A few weeks before Christmas of last year, I played a gig with my blues band at a community center that was located in a notoriously rough, poverty-stricken neighborhood. My equipment had to be loaded in through the front door, down a narrow hallway, down 2 flights of stairs into a secure room. This turned out to be the most rewarding gig I've ever played. We were playing to a group of people, some convicted felons, some overcoming drug addictions, no place to live, etc.. with staff volunteers. Just seeing the looks on their faces and the fun they were having was well worth it. They assisted in loading my gear afterward.

[Tonysounds]

Back when I was in my Latin Rock band, we played a maximum security facility. We were a multi-racial band, with me being the only white boy. In addition to having to have very legal and up-to-date identification (turned out to be a little problem there as one of our members, who had been living here since he was a toddler, had never gone through the legalization process), we had to undergo a pretty thorough security check: bomb inspection, dog sniffers (and since I was driving the band and our gear in my van, I forbid any smoking of any kind), and then item by item inspection of every piece of equipment. Our black guitarist happened to be one of those guys who performed without a shirt, regardless of the weather. (We used to call him Bumpy as he worked out very religiously.) He thought chicks dug it.

 

Well after we are through with all security checks and have our gear set up (we didnt get stage hands or inmate help), were told to stay in the theatre, and to not venture off ANYWHERE (for obviousl reasons). Our first set, we performed for the male population. Now, this was really a killer band. Id say it if I wasnt in the band, and Id go see it. But there were about 650 very big stone faced guys sitting there in jeans and wifebeaters, with their not inconsiderable arms folded over their chests. No reaction. I looked at our guitarist, and I realized that not only was he WEARING A SHIRT!, but that he looked positively puny next to the yard dogs. And his normally cocky, extroverted alpha male persona was dialed WAY DOWN! First song over, I whisper-yelled across the stage Hey Bumpy, you feelin okay? We all cracked up laughing. Next song, still no reaction from the crowd. Except one. He apparently was the Big Dog. He was wearing a wool skull cap and sunglasses. He uncrossed his arms for a moment, reached into his shirt and pulled out.a Tootsie Pop. It was like the music faded into the background and a spotlight had tuned out the rest of the audience and was shining on just this one inmate, looking just like Dee-Bo from Friday, just staring at us, jaws working that Tootsie Pop. Wed finish songs and it would just be quiet, or else other inmates talking and laughing like we were even there (or more likely couldnt even hear them). But it turned out they liked us. Once we were done playing, the yard dogs hung out and told us about their prison band, about how they got screwed just cuz they ended up stabbing their woman when they found her in bed with someone else, or how theyre getting out (or not getting out) soon.

 

Then we did a set for a female population they brought from another facility. Needless to say, Bumpys shirt disappeared, the women were VERY enthusiastic, and basically all 7 of us had more new penpals than we knew what to do with.

 

The departing security scan was much less vigorous than the entrance, but thorough nonetheless. That was definitely a hilarious gig.half of it anyway!

 

[Moonglow]

.....A while back, someone told a story on a similar thread about a guitar player (of course) who always disappeared when it was time to load out. They always packed up his stuff (To be honest, I'm not that nice), but this time they just left his gear behind......

Ha! That was me! And the club where we left this guy's rig was about 1.5 hours from home. Too bad....

 

I recall this one gig where we had to use an old fashioned dumb waiter, operated with a manual pulley system, for some of our gear. Took a ride in it myself. But I'm afraid I can't contribute much beyond the aforementioned jobs involving load in the at the alley, small rickety freight elevator, multiple long narrow hallways, kitchens/kitchen staff, stairs, stage at opposite end of hall scenario....and of course, the usual dickhead banquet manager. Worked hundreds of these, which unfortunately are all too typical of many hotels in Chicago. Back in the day, we would make it a point to self-medicate really good before such load ins.....

[Chris Link]

.....A while back, someone told a story on a similar thread about a guitar player (of course) who always disappeared when it was time to load out. They always packed up his stuff (To be honest, I'm not that nice), but this time they just left his gear behind......

 

Ha! That was me! And the club where we left this guy's rig was about 1.5 hours from home. Too bad....

 

One of my all-time favorite stories, Moonglow!

 

We all know guys like that and to picture the look on his face when all of you shrug and say: No idea where your stuff is. Didn't you take it with you?

 

Once in a while, @#$&heads get what they deserve not in the afterlife or the next life or whatever, but in real time. Just wish I coulda been there.

[Chris Link]

My best stupid question as far as load in/load out is after dress rehearsal for our medical society gridiron show staged in the concert hall of the city's art museum, I ask the MD/1st KB if he thinks it's OK to leave my gear.

 

He correctly points out that it is an art museum and it's pretty unlikely that anyone's going to break in what with all the alarms and security guards and all.

 

Guess I don't play that nice of joints typically.

[The Real MC]

St Peter is admitting people through the Pearly Gates.

 

"Yes sir, what did you do in your life?" "I was a doctor" "Step right in"

 

"Yes Ma'am, what did you do in your life?" "I was a mother who raised three children" "Step right in"

 

"Yes sir, what did you do in your life?"

 

"I was a musician"

 

"Around the back, up the stairs, through the kitchen..."

[Steve Nathan]

It's been a long long time for me, but back in my bar band days (late 60s-early 70s) we had two keys players in the band. We carried a full size upright piano and a Hammond D.

 

When I still lived in Muscle Shoals, I used to drive my gear up to Nashville to work at the old "House of Gold" studio. The only access was up three stories by way of a narrow, rickety metal fire escape.

[J. Dan]

In my duo back in the mid 90's, we played a place where you're up overhead in a little kind of loft overlooking the bar. To get there, you carry your stuff DOWNSTAIRS to the kitchen, then into a little kind of freight elevator, up 2 flights to the loft. Kind of weird. Not really all that horrible, I've had many worse, but usually comparable to most of the other stories here.

 

I also played a boathouse on the Missouri River. The estate was up on a cliff and the boathouse was down on the water. I'm thinking, crap this is going to suck... until they showed me this little trolly thing they had. It was basically just kind of a platform that is lowered down my a cable on a track (we took the steps).

[StanC]

Then there was NYE 1999-2000, a frantic club manager exclaimed. . ."Youse (yeah youse) guys are gonna have to move all those (PA) speakers! They're in the way! Don't you know what tonight is? At midnight all the computers in the country are going down! We'll be in total darkness and people will be in a panic trying to run out of here!"

[jsaras]

This isn't strictly a "load-in" story, but it's hillarious. A keyboardist friend of mine was extremely proud to STILL be driving a 70's Pinto station wagon up until a couple of years ago. To this day he does not have a cell phone or a decent computer..you get the idea. He's a genius musician who's not into modern technology in general.

 

As he was driving to a gig he was involved in an accident that not only totalled the car, but his equipment flew out the back and onto the freeway. The keyboard (Casio VZ1?) was fine but the speaker cabinet was busted up. His bandmates had to play an entire set without him which was especially difficult as he plays left-hand bass for the group. They had no idea where he was and whether or not he was every going to show up and they suspecteing that his Pinto had finally given him some car trouble.

 

He arrived to the gig about an hour and a half late with his Pinto on a flatbed truck. The guys in the band laughed their heads off! He unloaded his gear and he even managed to get his speaker cabinet to work in spite of the severe damage to the cabinet.

 

He shoulda been a mail man!

[Bill H.]

St Peter is admitting people through the Pearly Gates.

 

"Yes sir, what did you do in your life?" "I was a doctor" "Step right in"

 

"Yes Ma'am, what did you do in your life?" "I was a mother who raised three children" "Step right in"

 

"Yes sir, what did you do in your life?"

 

"I was a musician"

 

"Around the back, up the stairs, through the kitchen..."

 

 

...and worthy enough to be repeated on page two so up she goes!

[NewImprov]

Well, this is nowhere near as bad as some of these stories, I mean, no one's had to go to the ER (yet), but we play a club in Port Townshend, WA, that has a pretty challenging load-in. PT is a cool little town across the sound from Seattle with a historic downtown, narrow streets. The club is on the 3rd floor of this cool old building, with a deck overlooking the sound. Of course, there's no elevator.

 

So the load is like this. We park our bus straddling the middle lane of the main street through downtown, and direct traffic around us we pack stuff to the curb. Then someone moves the bus to the closest parking space large enough to accomodate it, usually several blocks away, while the rest of us hump the gear up 3 flights of narrow stairs. Then, we have to move the pool tables out of the way and build the stage from risers packed in the corner. Then set up our stuff and PA. End of show, do it all in reverse, just more tired and a few beers to the wind.

 

The cool thing is that it's always a pretty great gig, very cool people and it's always worthwhile to do the show.

[Outkaster]

It's been a long long time for me, but back in my bar band days (late 60s-early 70s) we had two keys players in the band. We carried a full size upright piano and a Hammond D.

 

When I still lived in Muscle Shoals, I used to drive my gear up to Nashville to work at the old "House of Gold" studio. The only access was up three stories by way of a narrow, rickety metal fire escape.

 

Stan a Model D???? Wow that is heavy with two tone generators. That must have been fun.

[resigned]

Many of these stories are somewhat familiar, i.e. winding my way through a maze of corridors and through the kitchen with a ton of gear. Up and down stairs etc. But the top three worst for me are as follows (abbreviated for space):

 

3. Loading a chopped B3 into a snow-bound country club across ice and slipping, hitting my head very hard. No question about the concussion, and no gig either because it was a blizzard. The band was trapped for the night with the waitresses in the lodge for the party of their lives, and I was in total misery with not even an aspirin for relief. Got dug out the next day.

 

2. We packed the band's truck for a road trip that was to begin the next day and left it parked behind the club after a gig. Crooks hotwired the truck but only got two blocks away because it had no gas. So they broke into the back and off loaded whatever they could carry - guitars, keyboards, etc. leaving the truck stranded with the back open in the middle of a highway. Road trip was canceled, nothing was insured.

 

1. The load-in onto the gambling ship went perfectly thanks to high tide. When the ship returned it was an extreme low tide and humidity was 100%. No help and no sympathy - I was left alone at 2am to attempt to drag my equipment up a long steep wet aluminum gangplank. More than once I slipped and went back down the metal ramp holding onto my gear for dear life because letting go would mean it could slide all the way off the dock into the water.

 

I had several nightmare events related to gambling boats/ships, including having to setup next to the engines and/or exhaust, voltages that went up and down with the engines, speaker stands falling over because of rough water... I swore ship gigs off.

[SK]

A different worst load-in story. Well, the load-in was fine; the load out was almost a disaster:

 

A late '80's gig on a jazz riverboat cruise for the evening. In the middle of the cruise, it started raining hard. When we got back to the dock, the floating dock was unlevel with the boat and the water was rough.

 

I was carrying my Rhodes and stepped down onto the dock. The bass player was holding the other end of the Rhodes, still standing on the boat, when the boat started to drift away from the dock I was standing on. As the boat drifted away, it was pulling me to the edge of the dock. So he had one end of the Rhodes and I had the other, and we were drifting away from each other.

 

It was the Rhodes or me... one of us was going in the river. So I made a decision and yelled to the bass player "Drop it! Drop the #%^# Rhodes in the river! Let it go!"

 

I dropped my end of the Rhodes just before I almost went over the edge. The bass player was a big guy, and he held the Rhodes from his end and threw the whole thing at me, almost knocking me down.

 

I told him I wanted it to go in the river - the Rhodes was old, I was tired of it, and a Rhodes at the bottom of the river would have made a darn good story.

[Gary75]

Haha, funny! The thought of a Rhodes hurtling towards me is scary! Just another C3/122 greasy fire escape through the basement kitchen story here, all because the miserable security staff wouldn't try opening a door that wasn't used normally

[SK]

It WAS scary. Sort of a Moby Dick, with tines.

[eric]

SK, that reminds me of a story I've read somewhere...not sure if this was just an urban legend, but I recall a similar tale where a Hammond tonewheel organ tumbled into a lake or river during load-in to a boat. It was recovered and worked fine after drying in the sun. Sounds unbelievable. I'll have to do some searching and see if I can find the story.