So I stroll down to the lounge at eight last night, figuring a few early-birds will probably show up, play a few tunes and hit the rack early.
I was wrong.
The bar was packed, the band was cooking, and the whole place stayed packed and cooking for hours. I stuck it out until eleven, when it hit me: this is fun, but I can't stay up all night--I gotta go to a reunion tomorrow morning.
Film at eleven, or whenever I get a moment.
Frank Mullen's very unofficial source of poop, skinny and bitching for present and former U.S. Navy Musicians.
No comments:
Post a Comment