
Writer-Spin
Put a positive spin on your writing style
A Memoir by Judy Evicci
Many years ago, in Sacramento California, I sang with a small
band. Johnny, the band leader loved me very much. He was
kind and fun and trusting and ambitious. He successfully
marketed the band and the gigs were paid for. Not like it is
today, where, most of the time, you perform for tips.
I was young, and like most young girls, many men offered love and
marriage. I spent a lot of time with Johnny, but turned him
down when it came to romance. I liked the excitement that
Johnny lacked. Instead he offered love and security.
Mostly we performed, but sometimes we practiced at his home or mine.
We both had pianos and he played the stand-up base; the old
fashioned kind that looked like a giant fiddle and stood almost as
high as Johnny was tall.
We both had jobs, but after work, it was time to play and sing.
Other band members came to practice. Some just came to sit in
and jam. The band was all acoustical. I don’t remember
any electronic music in the 60s. Mellow and shaded jazz
standard music tones filled the hours as they slipped by the moon
and greeted the sunrise.
We lived the music. During our days off work, and the nights
we spent together, we talked through or played new arrangements.
I remember the tree house that Johnny built for my daughters in his
spacious back yard. My young children played on high as we
practiced music below.
I was in my twenties then. Where is Johnny now? I wish I
had him back. This time I would say “yes,” to his proposal.
I loved the music life, and I still do. It’s just not that
easy to find anymore. Good musicians are scattered and even
the Internet won’t disclose them. Come out; come out, where
ever you are……

I don't have actual photos of our group. This is close though.

This is how the music felt to me at the time.

The girls having fun in the treehouse.