Joe was a consistent thread and influence as the band morphed its way through the years and the styles required for the times. We all took turns being the bandleader, but there was never a doubt about who was the guardian of our philosophy.
The Dunes, between Margate and Sommer’s Point, was another summer hotspot on the Jersey shore. Again, we came in on a weekend as the second band to play opposite another unsuspecting full time group during the summer madness at the shore. The full-timers didn’t like us because we were so good, often to the point of their embarrassment. On this particular occasion, ‘The Powers Flower’ was the next victim.
Joe was in mid-term as the bandleader and was approached by the club owner while we were loading in and setting up. It was late afternoon. The place was empty except for the bartenders preparing the six bars that would service the wall-to-wall humanity expected later that night. The owner was very intent on speaking to Joe to make sure the rules were clear. Rule Number 1: Under no
circumstances was it permitted for band members to bring in personal supplies of alcoholic beverages.
Including Joe, we were all listening tolerantly as we continued setting up. Joe had his guitar case on the edge of the stage as he stood on the cement floor with the owner. It would have been different, I suppose, if Joe had not been distracted by the owner’s ramblings, but as he opened his guitar case, an unopened glass pint of Seagram’s 7 fell out and shattered on the floor four feet below.
The immediate result, appreciated by us and the bartenders, was that the club owner shut up. There was even a wink and a smile from the bartender who was ordered to clean up.
Because of the schedule required there, the popular expression then was ‘The Dunes till dawn’. We had horns, and no matter how many times The Powers Flower played “The Age of Aquarius”, the crowd always anticipated our return to the stage with our funky, soulful stuff…
We enjoyed our breakfast at the local diner. Meanwhile, we presumed, the club owner enjoyed counting his receipts. He never spoke to us again…