First to perform was Pete Covali, who is now my favorite solo guitarist. Sporting two custom made guitars; a big jazz body electric, and a nylon string electric, Pete played a variety of pieces that varied in style from Blues to Pop, but were all woven together by Pete’s unique style. The man is a master of chord voicings, melodic harmonization, and bass run accompaniment. But what impressed me the most was his impeccable sense of time. Rarely do I hear a guitarist of such mastery. He graced me with his latest CD, which I highly recommend, so we were able to take his prowess with us down the road.

At the far end of the club sits an acoustic piano, so at the onset of the break, me and the boys gravitated to that space, and Roy began tickling the ivories. Pete came back to join us, and well, DAMN, he was such a nice guy, we hit it off right away! We laughed easily and shared thoughts about gigs, and mentioned he does a lot of teaching.  Man, there are some lucky guitar students in Cleveland!

I began to study the room and marvel at the incredible mixture of folks all in this one place. Surely, this is what I embrace most about the Blues scene. There were couple out for a dinner and a show, guitar players, bikers, young people; singles lookin’ to hook up, and of course Robert Jr’s family and friends most of whom were senior citizens. Suddenly, I spot a fella with some kind of wild headdress hanging down his back and below his knees…Maybe like an Indian headdress or something. Hmmm…must move closer and get a better look…Uh, wait a minute, oh my God it’s all his hair! It’s just so matted and dreadlocked that from the middle of his back down it’s like a natty blanket, all knarled and stuff. Oh yes, and I must add that this guy is a middle-aged white guy, and all this hair is totally gray! On top of that, he is receding and balding! Well, at least he’s got his own look.

The band room where we hang out is down the hall from the bathrooms, and every time I go in or out, I notice there is this same dude standing there talking on a cell phone. This seems kind of odd to me to spend money on a show only to spend your evening on a phone in the back hallway. Hmmm. Anyway, I need to use the ladies room, and this usually always includes some chit-chat and bonding with other gals in the house. So while I’m at the mirror, engrossed in Blues small talk, the bathroom door swings open and I catch “cell phone man’s” eye and realize he’s perched in a perfect spot to view the entire girls restroom’s reflection in the mirror every time the door opens. So I guess he’s getting his money’s worth after all.

Meanwhile, during the course of chatting with Pete, we hear sounds coming from the stage across the room, and I realize that the second act, The Schwartz Bros., are about to begin. Front man Glenn Schwartz was the guitar player for an old ‘60’s Rock band, Pacific Gas & Electric. I know they had a couple of hits, but I just can’t remember them. He fronts a trio now of which the bass player is the other Schwartz Brother, and also the bass player for Robert Jr. Lockwood. As I later mused, this must have been the reason for there presence at Robert’s birthday party.

First I heard some random Blues calls from over the mic… “Well, well…HEY! Aaaauuuuhhhh…” So I thought the guy must be soundchecking for his set. Then come a flurry of open E riffs, very sloppy, very sporadic. Yep, the guy is doing his own personal soundcheck. But this non-sensical Blues mumbling and riffing continues, and I start to consider the fact that maybe his set has begun! Then Pete turns to me with a giggle and a grin and explains, “I think he did too much acid in his day.” I nod and we both crack up. Suddenly, Glenn turns to the rhythm section and stomps his foot dramatically as if to say, “C’MON!” So they chime in for about 30 seconds, and he immediately turns and slams his guitar neck in the air to cut them off. Then quotes, “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!”, he cries. Then he throws back his head and attempts a flurry of meaningless notes. He jumps on the mic now and shouts, “Watch me now, watch me!”… And again attempts to rip off some licks, but he is so tense and screwed up that he completely chokes off every note. Any observer of all this has two choices, of course; to either feel really embarrassed for the performer, or to laugh at him. And as all of the locals seemed completely at home with his insanity, I chose to laugh. In fact, I chose to move closer. I spotted an empty two-seater not to far from the stage, and Roy who was also mesmerized by this event, joined me.

Upon closer inspection, this dude Glenn looked like a typical homeless character; greasy-haired, toothless, and wild-eyed. He was clad in a denim suit that at leased looked like it had been recently laundered…Now he jumps off the stage and moves threateningly toward Robert Lockwood’s personal table. Some of the elderly bunch took this behavior in stride, but others went rigid with shock! Glenn slithered closer to their table and slung some threatening remarks… “There’s no time left…repent!…Here I go!”…Now squeezing and gyrating the guitar until a flurry of righteous Blues-Rock licks spilled out. I realize that somewhere in this guy’s brain are stored a cache of very cool licks.

Meanwhile, bass and drums sat long-faced waiting for Glenn to bring them in again. Finally he jumped back on stage and cued them in, only to cut them off again 30 seconds later. Oh, to have a small video camcorder at these moments! I signal AJ to get a shot of this guy, but as soon as Glenn saw him with the camera he broke from his muse and yelled, “NO PICTURES! NO PICTURES!…I don’t want anyone to see me with a DOG on me!!” He made a lot of references to dogs and horses. AJ moved back to the little table where Roy and I sat, and where I was laughing non-stop and hysterically! I got up to move as close as I could to the stage, and what was almost music for awhile, now turned into out & out preaching… “You women out there…you shouldn’t wear pants, you should be behind your man, staying at home and serving him. SINNERS! The time is near now…It’s almost over…here I COME, watch out, watch out!”

Finally the sermon came to an end, and so sadly did my source of hysteria subside. Mingling with the regulars, I got some of the low-down on Glenn: He lives on the street in his car, parked in front of his parents’ house, and actually has a steady Wed. night gig somewhere in town, for those of you who might be interested in catching his act.

So after all of this, it was time for Robert Jr. Lockwood to take the stage… What a transition! He had a full band with him, and of course, the second Schwartz Brother remained on stage with his bass. Up came a horn section and a keyboard player, and Robert performed both with the full band, and just solo. All of these veteran players created a beautiful, soulful sound together. So after cathartic laughter, we could feed our souls. As Robert’s set wound down, Mike Miller and his staff at Wilbert’s paraded out with a birthday cake, and we all sang Happy Birthday to Robert. As I approached him to share my personal Birthday congrats Robert spots me and chuckles, “Oh yeah, I knew somethin’ was missin’, you still gotta play baby!” And play we did, ushering out the end of a very entertaining and eclectic evening. Everyone agreed that the whole vibe in the club was joyous. And why not? What an honor to help a veteran Blues man celebrate his 89^th year.