A Conversation With Tom Waits
Tom Waits has always been one of my favorite artists and when I received a call from Steve Menshouse along about 1978 to advise me that Waits was going to be at Bogart's in Cincinnat, Ohio, I was pumped. We talked Rob Webb into going with us , even though he wasn't a fan. We decided to arrive at Bogart's very early to get the best seats possible. When we arrived, there were only a few people sitting around at the bar and we were escorted to a table by the stage, 5 feet from the piano. What a thrill it was to be gulping down pitchers of wine and anticipating the arrival of Waits.
When it was showtime a skinny little MC hopped up onto the stage and gave Tom an amazing introduction. We were all screaming for him to come on stage, but he was nowhere to be found. The MC went back behind the bar and returned 15 minutes later to introduce Tom once again. Still nothing! They started panning the spotlight all around the bar until it settled on a sleazy looking dirty old guy that was hunkered over a shot glass with a half empty bourbon bottle in his hand. He starts waving his arms and telling them to get the light out of his eyes. It was Waits!
Waits sauntered down the aisle wih a shot glass in one hand, bourbon bottle in the other and a big cig hanging from his lips. We started yelling out a particular song that we wanted him to sing. He stopped at our table, shook his head and stepped up onto the stage. As he sat down at the piano, he poured another shot and looked our way, as we were still yelling. As calm as a cucumber, Waits stood back up, walked over to the edge of the stage, leaned down in front of us, put his index finger to his lips and said SHHHHHHHHHHHHush.
What a night!
When it was showtime a skinny little MC hopped up onto the stage and gave Tom an amazing introduction. We were all screaming for him to come on stage, but he was nowhere to be found. The MC went back behind the bar and returned 15 minutes later to introduce Tom once again. Still nothing! They started panning the spotlight all around the bar until it settled on a sleazy looking dirty old guy that was hunkered over a shot glass with a half empty bourbon bottle in his hand. He starts waving his arms and telling them to get the light out of his eyes. It was Waits!
Waits sauntered down the aisle wih a shot glass in one hand, bourbon bottle in the other and a big cig hanging from his lips. We started yelling out a particular song that we wanted him to sing. He stopped at our table, shook his head and stepped up onto the stage. As he sat down at the piano, he poured another shot and looked our way, as we were still yelling. As calm as a cucumber, Waits stood back up, walked over to the edge of the stage, leaned down in front of us, put his index finger to his lips and said SHHHHHHHHHHHHush.
What a night!