During my radio show yesterday, I was called in the studio, by Mr David Booker. He's a blues musician, and fellow Englishman, who lives in Denver. I'd met him a week or two ago, whilst out drinking with Darrin from the station.

A Week Or So Ago
At the end of an evening of beer and wit, we left The Wynkoop, and were heading along Wynkoop Street when Darrin spotted Mr B., playing guitar in Trios - Enoteca.

After all that Wynkoop stout, ordering large glasses of red wine seemed like a good idea. So did sitting in jeans and t-shirts, amongst all the well-dressed yuppie couples watching David Booker sing his bluesy heart out.

We ended up being joined at our table by David, between songs. He knew Darrin from the station, and got on well with me, being a fellow ex-pat Briton.

Back on stage, he announced to the assembled yuppies, "We have two top-flight DJ's from KUVO with us tonight", and I vaguely remember heckling something along the lines of, "You mean there's four of us from jazz89 here?" á la Mark&Lard humour.

He then dedicated the next song to us, "This is dedicated to Darrin and Max. It's called 'Blow Me'". Which was a very funny blues number, the lyrics of which will never see the light of day on-air. Due to the humour of it, and the beer in my bloodstream, I believe my guffawing laughter nearly drowned out his guitar.

We left the bar sometime later, without paying for our drinks. Well, that is, neither Darrin nor I paid, and much as we looked for staff to give our money to, they seemed uninterested, so being two radio-paupers we left quietly.

Back in the Present Day
Cut to, yesterday's show. David calls, and tells me he's playing at The Mercury Café, downtown, and would I like to come along as his guest. He mentions something about a party for some guy called Ronnie.

So, after dinner in The Wynkoop, I sought out the café, and found the upstairs ballroom where David and his band were playing.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you were stood in a crowded public area, without your trousers on? It was a bit like that.

Everyone (but me) was dressed in 1950's clothing/styles.

Those of you who know me, will know that there's only one thing to do in a crisis like this. That's right, I leapt super-hero-like, to the bar, and ordered beer. By an amazing stroke of super-beero, err.. hero, luck, they were serving the same Railyard Ale, that I had just been supping in The Wynkoop. The only problem with that beer (a red ale) is that it's too easy to drink (i.e. it almost seems to evaporate from the glass, it's gone that quickly).

I popped over to the stage and said hi to David, and met his wife, who later sang with the band.

I found some seating, out of the way, and listened to the band, as they played their bluesy/rock best, and people danced. My companion for the evening had just commented that "This is looking a lot like a private family and friends party, I hope no-one asks who the hell we are.", when the couple in front of us, passed back a notebook which all the guests were signing. I signed myself as the official jazz89 representative, and passed the book on to the next table.

The couple in front then leaned back and asked if we knew the name of Ronnie's girlfriend.

If I'd had my wits about me, I'd have probably, confidently replied, "Tammy". However, I was full of Railyard Ale, so I laughed heartily, and said something along the lines of, "No! We're friends of the band! And in fact, I only met David Booker a week ago, but he called me during my radio show today, so I thought, why not go along". Thankfully, this amused them, and were weren't cast out of the café.

Just as we'd had this conversation, the party photographer (who looked like she might be a relative of Ronnie's) arrived and took our picture. I also, due to my leaning forward to say something to the couple we'd been talking to, got my face in the couple in front's picture as well. So no doubt, Ronnie et al will assume that we were with them.

I then speculated that when the pictures come back, there'll be a reaction along the lines of, "Who the hell is this blond guy with the drunken grin?".

All in all a lovely evening, if only for getting to pretend to be be a legitimate member of the media. We never did actually meet the infamous Ronnie, although we worked out who it was, and he had a Kenny G kind of haircut, so that, plus not actually knowing him, lead me to feel we shouldn't intrude. At least, not any further.