Gee Nick, it'll be the same as last year, and this is a long explanation. So if you're rushed for time or don't care, move on to the next guy..
Our band will load into this joint about 4 pm, taking only our instruments, amps, 1 mike and a Fender Twin for vocals. We'll play for the same group of guys/gals we played for last year with 3 missing from the crowd. They're in a better place if you're a believer. We'll marvel at the manner in which these folks manipulate the 4 wheels they're sitting on, and the agile movements made with alternative magnesium legs, crutches that slide on the well polished tile floor that's slippery as an eel and wonder how they keep from busting their butts.
"Bugle Boy Rag" and "In the Mood" will be served to a standing ovation of at least 75 folks. All that topped off by the Texas National Anthem, "Faded Love", and finally I'll watch as the tears fall for fallen comrades as our favorite trumpet player Jelly Roll renders one of the most heartfelt interpretations of "Taps" one has ever heard.
Then we'll quickly tear down from this well known VETERANS HOSPITAL that services those guys from WW II, Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, Afghanistan, and now Iraq, and move the equipment to our next venue, some 'tonk' where we'll do it all for the folks who participate in the New Year's revelrie; the cowboys with the stetsons, big belt buckles, western shirts, and bolo ties with the diamond clusters, their spouses/girlfriends with the glittering seasonal top vest complete with sequined santas, sleighs, and stupid looking reindeer, skirts so tight the panty line looks like the yellow/white line in the middle of the highway, carrying their purple bag of Crown Royal and entering the front door yelling for setups and ice.
There's gonna' be a couple of fist fights and the bouncers will separate the drunken contenders, who'll hug one another, shake hands and patch up the wounds. Twelve o'clock will finally arrive after we've played every idiotic song from "Three Little Fishes" to "Two Pina Coladas", Auld Lang Syne follows and we'll bring it all to a close with our going home song "Good Night Little Sweetheart, Good Night", shut the amps off and leave before the crowd, most of whom are soused to the gills, has a chance to get on the highways and by ways.
Home by 1 AM where I'll have a Coors Light, small can, try to unwind, finally dumping the smoke filled clothes out the back door, showering and heading to the bed--Only after thanking the Great One for allowing my oldest son to return from a place I'm really not certain we should be in, but I trust my remaining son's judgement.
Finally falling asleep after remembering we're to meet tomorrow in the afternoon to tear down, load the trailer with all the junk we used the night before. Oh well, such is the life of a "picker". Ain't it great?
fred
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"From Truth, Justice is Born"--Quanah Parker-1904
. The Lodge representative said they weren't going to have the money to pay us, so guess what! Luckily I was able to get the owners of Flea Country to have a New Years Eve Party here at the last minute and let us be the entertainment. Not quite as much money as the gig we lost, but with that short of notice, I ain't complaining. 
