Daron's Guitar Chronicles: Vol 4

261 SULTANS OF SWING

SULTANS OF SWING

It was a very professional crowd, it seemed to me. They clapped in all the right places, cheered in all the right places, never got too crazy, but never lagged in energy either. Don't get me wrong; that was perfectly fine. But it wasn't special. Or maybe it was me. I was so ready for something to go wrong, and when nothing did, maybe my head wasn't in the right place.

Ziggy knew how to play a crowd like that. Let's face it, he knew how to play any crowd, deep or shallow, rowdy or subdued. Lacey didn't show up as far as I could tell and I had to keep reminding myself she was okay.

I forgot all that when I came off stage and saw Remo standing there, whistling and clapping. He gave me a big bear hug, which surprised me, since he was usually more a shoulder-slap kind of guy.

Maybe the show was better than I gave it credit for.

I stripped out of my sweaty shirt and put on a dry one. The green room seemed noisier and more chaotic than usual after a show. I just concentrated on drinking a bottle of water and waiting for my blood pressure to return to normal.

"Digger says no promo party tonight," Remo said, sitting down next to me on a folding chair. "You want to get away from the hotel for a while?"

"Yes," I said, with feeling. Then I looked up and Ziggy was standing there. "Is that invitation open to everyone or just me?"

Remo opened his mouth to answer but Ziggy cut in. "No no, don't worry about me. I'm beat. You go on."

Remo and I said, simultaneously, "If you're sure."

Ziggy cracked up a little at that. "I'm sure. I'll tell the guys you're out if they start looking for you."

"Okay." I stood up, grabbed the Ovation's case, Remo jerked his thumb toward the door, and we were outta there, that fast.

He was driving the same SUV he'd had the last time he drove me somewhere, or one that looked a hell of a lot like it. From the lot where he'd parked, which must have been for VIPs, a guard directed us toward an exit and we merged with the rest of the cars trying to leave just at the roadway. "So what kind of car should I buy?" I asked, as he eased us into traffic.

"Well, what kind of car do you want?"

"I have no idea. Something easy to park. Parking in Boston sucks. And we don't have room for more cars in the driveway anyway, so I'll probably have to park it on the street."

"Well, that's a start. Go test drive some things, I guess?"

"Chris says buying a car is like a part-time job until you pick one." I shrugged. "Hey, thank you for Cat Elvis."

Remo chuckled. "That's one of those 'I saw it and I thought of you' gifts."

"Ha. Well, so far so good, aside from last night's mishap."

"She's going to be okay, though?" Remo asked.

"Yeah, far as I can tell. They let her out of the hospital in the middle of the day and she went home and Chris visited her there."

"She's his girl?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't even know she was famous until your old man told me," Remo said. He drummed his hands quietly on the wheel to the radio, which was turned down so low I could almost not make out the song. Almost. Bob Seger, "Old Time Rock and Roll."

"Famouser than we are anyway," I said. "Where by we I mean me and the guys, not you."

He shrugged. "Dunno about that. You brought the house down tonight."