Experience

In my last blog, The Club, I lamented my lack of professional experience on the banjo. I thought it would be constructive for me—and hopefully a little interesting for you—to quantify the experience that I do have. I try to learn what I can from everything I do, in an effort to improve and grow; I also like to think that my experiences can serve as lessons for others.

As a “professional” banjoist (as in “paid performer”), I suppose you can count some of the childhood gigs I had with the Grays Harbor Banjo Band and the Jubilee Five (the junior banjo band). Without exception though, these were all amateur performances, where we would occasionally earn a small “honorarium” (no taxes taken out, and certainly not enough to “live on”).

I quit playing for ten years after I graduated high school; when I came back to the banjo, it was again in an amateur banjo club setting. A couple of years into my return, I had a couple of well-paid gigs in Salt Lake City, but they were both one-offs with no continuity, and I’m sure I was paid cash under-the-table. I played on a few shows and was actually a paid head-liner at the Peninsula Banjo Band show in 1989.

When I moved back home to Washington State to go to college, I played a few Trad Jazz gigs and fests with Joe Banana and The Banana Bunch (how’s that for a band name?), but this was still not enough to make an actual living. During my college years, I continued to play and sub with several Trad bands (including my own college group), but hardly enough to maintain my banjo chops, much less pay the bills (I was a clarinet major, spending countless hours in “creative loneliness” with that cruel and unforgiving instrument).

It was in those years that I had the summer gig that comes closest to making me a “professional banjoist”; I spent the summers of 1993 and 94 as a wandering musician at Phillips Crab House in Ocean City, MD. That was a great, well-paid gig, and I learned a lot! I’ve often thought that if I could do that year-round with that kind of pay, I might make it a career.

Around that time though, I got a call from Buddy Wachter (who had gotten me the crab house gig), saying the banjo/guitar chair at Rosie O’Grady’s was open, and encouraging me to apply. Well, #1, I do not play guitar, certainly not well enough to play at the level of that famous group. More importantly though, I was not willing to go alone, and I had no interest in quitting college and moving my family to Florida! I have chosen to believe that I would have gotten the job if I tried. I suppose that was the turning point though; I established that my “conditions” would probably not be conducive to a career.

This is a good moment to say an important thing about playing music for a living as an “independent contractor”: I have known too many musicians who did that and did not plan and/or save for retirement. They are paying the price now, one of the more legendary players having to sell his banjo and live on Social Security for the last several years. I believe I would have been in the same boat—not being much of a planner myself.

After college (and failing as a full-time school teacher!), I moved to Portland, OR to be an instrument repairman and take the banjo chair with Pat O’Neal and The Riverboat Jazz Band. I also played with Black Swan Classic Jazz Band (recording with both groups) and took various pick-up gigs around the area. This, combined with the repair job, occasional substitute teaching, and teaching band instruments in the store was enough to make 1998 my highest income year up to that point! I had arrived, but. . . no benefits, no retirement package, etc.

I was at the age where I knew I needed to do something or never have a retirement; I had one last shot to return to Active Duty (before I was too old), so I auditioned for the Army (on clarinet) and was accepted. To make a long story short, I spent the next 15 years traveling the world and playing music! That brings me up to my current comfortably-retired, mostly-contented present—and the conundrum subject of The Club.

One interesting side-story to my Army years: While stationed in Germany, I played a couple of pick-up gigs with various members of the famous Barrelhouse Jazz Band. I received a call from the leader, asking me what my commitment was to the U.S. Army. I told him #1, I was under a four-year enlistment contract, and #2, I intended to stay in until retirement. I asked if I could be an on-call sub, but they still had an exhaustive world tour schedule and needed a committed full-time player.

Would I have taken that gig if I wasn’t in the Army? Good question! It would have been well paid, with benefits and eventual retirement benefits from the German government, but, it entailed spending most of the year on the road (and again, the guitar requirement). Not exactly a sensible job for a family man! I have my priorities, which seems to be the biggest reason for not trying to make a living playing the banjo!

At present, I play the occasional banjo convention, sometimes as a paid head-liner, but usually not. I play occasionally with the Arizona Banjo Blasters and the Affordable Ukulele Act (gratis of course), and have a few regular (and several irregular!) students. I subbed with the Uptown Lowdown Jazz Band for a couple of Trad Jazz fests and would take more if offered. This year I was hired as a “participating performer” for the Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering, and again, hope for more offers. I occasionally busk for tips on the boardwalks of Tombstone (“The town too tough to die!”) and hope to eventually get a regular saloon gig there. If Trad Jazz (my favorite genre!) was still a viable thing, and I lived in the right place, I would probably work more.

The “moral of the story?” I have no valid complaint! The “right gig” was destined to never come along, simply because I probably would have turned it down! So I simply have to accept it, and continue what I’ve been doing the last few years.