After college and before we started the Bigfellas, I really wasn't playing in bands or even playing music outside of lightly strumming while watching TV.
But from time to time, a work friend named Dan Williams would give me the call to play in his occasional gigging band in San Diego.
This was mostly a cover band, kind of a dad band, sometimes playing Irish music, or standard classic rock.
No matter what the gig, we were playing "Brown-Eyed Girl"; you know, that kind of band.
Let me be clear, it was not a great band.
On the plus side, we were fun, loose and our main qualifications was that we had a PA. We knew all the songs we were supposed to know.
The Dan Band
The band didn't really have a name, but when we needed one, putting "The Dan Band" on a hastily-doodled flyer did the trick. By the way, the more famous Dan Band already existed in L.A. (whom you've seen in Old School and The Hangover); our version of the Dan Band weren't sticklers for things like copyrights and trademarks.
Danny was a hale fellow well met.
Not a great guitar player or singer despite singing lead, but he had an enthusiasm and beachy San Diego anything-goes attitude that really worked.
He reminded me of a blond Chris Berman (from ESPN) if he sang "Honky Tonk Women" at a boat club.
The gigs weren't all that serious - a little more than beer and gas money but always a lot of fun.
We played a lot of low-rent boat clubs; I mean, it is San Diego.
Fairly often, we played on literal small boats in the Coronado Harbor.
Lots of 4th of July "regattas" where we'd zoom our gear out to the main boat from some small raft with an outboard motor, play three sets of "Sweet Caroline" and "Margaritaville" while getting hammered to a floating audience of 150 drinkers, several of whom always seemed to be women who love to flash their boobs.
Did I say it was fun?
The Band
Personally, the most lasting result from this band was that among the rotating band members, I really connected with the two best musicians, keyboardist/trumpeter Moises Ortiz and violin/fiddle legend and future Bigfella Don Hickox https://www.bigfellas.net/blogpost.php?BlogPostID=89.
I still love playing with these guys years later.
One thing I should make clear: I wasn't really in the band.
I was first substitute on for several instruments. I probably only was called on for half of the gigs; which may be what kept it so fun for me.
I can only play "Margaritaville" so many times in one year.
I was number two on the depth chart at several positions: keyboards, bass, or guitar.
So, if Moises was missing on keys, the bass player or one of the three guitarists were a scratch, I was there.
Bass is really fun for me when I get the chance, and normally I feel inferior on guitar except when I was in this band.
Yet, keyboard duty was always the best.
Not because I'm good on keys, but because the main payment for playing was the free drinks.
Keyboard players are the only musicians who can keep a free hand while playing.
As long as the waitress put the pitchers of beer within reach of the keyboard, I ended up too drunk to drive home.
Kinda Irish
We definitely fulfilled duties as an Irish band, when needed.
I would say that Irish music fans are forgiving of sloppiness, but it's more true that Irish bands are EXPECTED to be sloppy.
We were, in a charming, destitute-man’s-Pogues-sort-of way.
"Whiskey In The Jar", "Swallow Tail Jig", "Dirty Old Town", "Fisherman's Blues", "Irish Rover", etc. we could play everything from A to A.
It's so odd, I'm kind of trashing us in this article, but if I saw this band in a bar, I would be all-in.
I know St. Patrick's Day is supposed to be the big one for Irish bands in the year, but I always really loved playing the day of the "Guinness Toast" a manufactured event in February where people around the world toast at certain times of the night with Irish beer.
San Diego being 8 hours behind Dublin time led to early starts at the Princess of Wales pub in Little Italy.
It's a celebration of camaraderie, alcoholism, and music.
St. Patrick's Day Parade
But the most memorable Irish gig with the Dan Band was at the St. Patrick's Day Parade years ago in Hillcrest.
We were gonna play on a large flatbed truck and drive around the parade as we cruised by.
When it came to a setlist, there was one song, "Drunken Sailor."
Ouch.
Seeing as we would only be heard by parade watchers for probably about 50 seconds at
a time, so it was somehow decided that we should just go with one song.
"Drunken Sailor" has two chords: E-minor and D.
Over and over.
And over.
We played that song for three god-damn hours straight.
I still quite can't get "Drunken Sailor" out of my head.
It was a beer-filled psychological torture.
Epilogue/Epitaph
The last thing I should say is that our intrepid leader in the Dan Band, Dan Williams, died way too young.
In so many ways, I think of Dan as a classic San Diegan.
Loved the beach and lived in Ocean Beach.
He was a huge Chargers fan.
Always tan.
When you picture lifelong San Diegans of the mold of the Old Mission Beach Athletic Club and the famous "Over the Line" tournament, Dan could have been the poster boy.
He ran our fantasy football league on paper, before Yahoo put it online.
The other owners in that league were all classic San Diego - guys who spent way too much time at Del Mar during horse racing season.
Two of the guys were a work tandem: an ambulance-chasing lawyer and a shady chiropractor, which are two jobs that work very well with each other.
Dan left behind a family and his wife Jeannie was still in love with him when he died suddenly.
Yes on this musician blog, I'm not remembering or celebrating a great musician.
Instead, I'm fondly recalling a great guy with where-do-I-plug-in-my-amp energy and despite no real "chops" make nothing gigs into memorable nights for a lot of people.
Or at least for me.
