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Back in 1972 I played in a 5-piece group that performed somewhat avant-garde, original, fast paced, highly syncopated, strange time signature instrumental music. I played the guitar, sax and banged on any percussive instrument that was available. My other bandmates were a good buddy on guitar, his brother-in-law on drums, a third guitarist and a bassist.
We got this gig for a private party from a guy (Mark) and his girlfriend who had heard us at a local club. It turns out that these guys had done business with my father and knew him fairly well. After talking to my dad I learned that Mark was a “trust fund kid” from Chicago who came from a very well-to-do family and that his blond girlfriend had been some kind of model (she was gorgeous).
Anyway, we are driving to the gig with me riding shotgun navigating us to our destination. We begin driving up this rather steep driveway, to a two story split-level swanky house in the foothills, when out the passenger side window I see this large pool area filled with 20 to 30 naked people. Some of them are performing the ”dance of the two-headed beast” (you know what I mean) around and in the pool. I immediately alert my band mates, as a civic duty, who responded with everything from “what do you get us into” to “very cool.” After all we had just ended the 60’s and there was still the air of Peace, Love, Dove.
Upon arrival, our host and hostess were very gracious and offered us many types of beer from around the world, fine wine, champagne or mixed drinks. Seafood (smoked swordfish, lobster, clams, etc.), or the meat du jour -- barbecued filet mignon. There were also other foreign substances available for consumption that I will not delve into at this point in time (but you get the picture). We ate and drank until we were stuffed and then proceeded to go and play the first set. We had set-up on the large second floor balcony, just off the spacious living room, that over-looked the pool area and the surrounding beautiful countryside. Mark told us that the only rule in the house that had to be followed was that no clothing of any kind was allowed outside in the pool area (we had already figured that out).
During the first set some women clad in bathrobes had come up from the pool area and sat behind us on some benches next to our drummer Chris. One lady was full-figured and very well-endowed by the hand of our maker if you know what I mean (I’ll call her Lotta). It appears that this woman had her mind set on Chris since she was eying him like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. Anyway, Chris had a full complement of drums including the double bass kicks, and a high drum throne with a quart bottle of beer between his legs. He never played or traveled without a quart bottle. We finished the set and after mingling I noticed that Lotta was about 3 sheets to the wind and Chris was close behind at about 2.5.
We begin the second set and about half way through this rather long improvisational section of a song we were performing my buddy and I realize that there are no drum beats, nothing at all. We turn around and see what appears to be Chris who had fallen over backwards into the living room still on his drum stool, the beer between his legs, his back on top of Lotta who was showing all her well endowed self to the shocked host, hostess and guests in the living room. Drums and cymbals with stands were laid out all over and there was beer flowing out of the bottle onto Chris, Lotta and the carpet. We went to his aid, helped clean up the mess, had a good laugh, finished the gig, got paid and got out of Dodge.
Later we found out from Chris that during that song Lotta couldn’t wait any longer and made her move on him. She apparently came from behind and placed a breast on each of his shoulders and started shaking and a shimmying. Of course Chris freaked, lost his balance and fell over backwards screaming as he fell right on top of ole Lotta. This display of buffoonery and pandemonium was later deemed by me The Well Endowed Incident.
Chris did later link up with Lotta (for good or bad) and none of us went out to the pool area during the gig. I later learned through my dad that Mark eventually blew all his money and had to get a real job. His beautiful girlfriend started selling pantyhose for some well known company.