The birds sure like it, I imagine their little feathers felt pretty wet and clammy after all the rain, and they are singing a new song this morning.
Gonna take a day or too to dry up enough to get in the fields for cutting, but there is hope now.
Had my first cup of coffee, this morning, at 5:30, and have gone through that pot, and probably have to make another. Takes a lot of coffee to fuel me for the day.
Tootsies Orchid Lounge, just across the alley from the Artist entrance to the Ryman Auditorium, was the club house for the Opry gang. Just slip out the back door of the Ryman, take about 6 steps, and down to the back entrance of Tootsies. When you would come into that back room of Tootsies, it was an exclusive room, separated from the front tourist part, on a different level from the front and up some narrow steps to this small room reserved for the music people. It was a quiet room, friendly and close, no status here that separated the big fish from the little fish. A place to go and visit, between shows, since the old Ryman did not have a lounge, just a dressing room and bathroom back stage, and the wings on each side of the stage and a very narrow walkway behind the back stage prop. So, in order to relax and wait for your next show, you eased over to Tootsies. Friday and Saturday nights were like family gatherings there, and Tootsie Bess took care of these good folks like a Mother Hen. Tootsie was a stout woman, with a rough, no nonsense approach to the public, but, she loved her music people.
In the old days, you would see Webb, Faron, Roger, Patsy, Willie, Oswald, Porter, the square dancers, the musicians from different bands, assorted girls that kinda moved through the music scene, seamlessly attached to different artists, then on to the next artist without any conflict or jealousy noted, songwriters quietly pitching new songs to the artists, wives of the musicians sitting together, quietly talking. Tootsie did not brook any trouble or disturbances, and she could handle the most agressive drinker, and get him or her out the door fast.
Tootsies Orchid Lounge was a clearing place for musicians looking for work, and Artists would call, at all hours, to tell Tootsie that they needed a drummer, or guitar player or bass man...and they needed them quick cause their regular musician had just called in sick and they were leaving in an hour for Chicago or St Louis. Tootsie would turn, go over to a table and tap one of the guys on the shoulder and say, "Got you a gig, if you want it".
She ran tabs on all the pickers, and I don't think anyone ever stiffed her. She had been known, if a musicians wife came in when he was out of town, and she needed some quick money for an emergency, to dip in the till and give it without a thought.
Yes, the connection between the old Tootsies Orchid Lounge, and the Opry when it was at the Ryman, was an integral part of the business of keeping the music playing. Less than a honky tonk, more like a social club to the pickers that found a place to let down and just be themselves, in the family of music that used to be. Stan
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