To London With A Hangover

"We're going to send you to London with a hangover!", he said half-jokingly. It came across almost like a thinly veiled threat.

Leggs, w/ Crazy Cavan & Co. with big shiny records, at a 

Welsh newspaper office. 

The "he" in question was my friend Paul "Leggsy" Barrett. If you're a fan of rockabilly, Teddy Boy music, that sort of thing...you owe him a hearty Thank Ye Kindly.

Leggs passed away earlier today. As his missus put it, he collapsed and died. It wasn't sudden. He'd had health problems in recent years. He was 78 and had spent most of his life in and around the music business. Puts a lot of extra miles on the chassis.

I could go into great detail about his life and career but you can find all of that online yourself. Instead, allow me to give you some personal memories of the Grand Potentate of Penarth.

In 2002, I made my first trip overseas. My friend 2Tone had managed to drum up some interest in my music over there. He contacted his friend Leggs, a well-known promoter, and managed to nab me a few bookings. I remember the excitement of getting the contracts in the mail. The money wasn't huge but I was being paid to play my music in another country. I could cross that one off the proverbial bucket list.

I had no idea what to expect. That said, anything I had expected was not what I got anyway.

My first gig was actually not planned at all. We went to the Thunderbird Club in Wellingborough to see a band called The Doomsday Rockers, and they asked me to do a short set. My friend Lee was also DJ'ing that night. All in all, it was a fair bit of fun and a good warm up (so I thought) for the first 'official' gig, which was a few nights later in Barry, Wales. Leggy set that one up.

I had been in touch with the backing band, sent them my music, and I figured all should go well. I was wrong. The guitarist was the only member of the band to learn my stuff! So after a few disastrous songs, I decided we'd just wing a set of old rockabilly, R&R and old R&B tunes.

I was not what this crowd of aging Teds was expecting. While some of the younger folks in the crowd dug it, the old school Teds found my music to be "Too loud", "Too frantic!" and my personal fave, "Practically PUNK!" (which was not meant as the compliment I took it as). When Leggs commented on my "excessive volume", I asked if he was too old to rock. This led to a pretty hilarious conversation which, I'd say, cemented our friendship.

I did a few more shows in and around Wales. Leggs was usually there. The day before I was heading to London, he called and said that he and his crew were going to send me to London with a hangover. This was not an invitation. This was more of a command.

Leggs had a favorite local pub (the name of which escapes me) and we were to meet up there for a night of drinks, music, and all around bullshitting. What Leggs hadn't counted on was my (then) inhuman tolerance to alcohol.

Sure, the UK beers tend to have a higher alcohol content but the US beers are chock full of chemicals and preservatives. I could down the fresh UK stuff like Coca Cola! They lost count after I'd had about 15 pints. I kept going...and so did Leggs. I remember us having to hold him upright at the urinal. I just chuckled and asked "Who's more likely to have a hangover tomorrow?" Leggs just grunted something at me that might've been English but I prefer to remember it as an ancient Welsh curse.

The next morning, I went with 2Tone to Cardiff Bay to take his dogs for a run and say farewell to Cymru for now. I had a train at 10 and hoped to be at my hotel in London shortly after lunchtime.

Once set and situated at The Dolphin Hotel in Paddington (only the finest accommodations for this rock star!) I went outside to the pay phone (I used the red phone boxes any chance I could! I loved those!) I called Leggs to see how he was holding up. He sounded like he'd been hit by a caravan of moving trucks. He asked how it was possible for a short, fat American to drink so much. I pointed out the factors he had neglected in his quest to send me to London with a hangover:
* I'm an American. We over do everything.
* I'm a musician.
* I come from a German family. As my grandmother was fond of saying, beer is just liquid bread.

Leggs groaned a bit and I bid him adieu. I had sights to see and music to make in London. I spent the day making my way around London, urinating on the back of what turned out to be Scotland Yard, and having an allergic reaction to certain pollens in Hyde Park that my Yankee schnozz was unaccustomed to. But those are stories for another time.

Through my friend Leggs, I got to meet many people, have many great experiences, and I have memories that will last a lifetime. I called my friend Hayden earlier this evening to share the news with him. Leggs had booked some of his first UK shows too. One could also blame Leggs for a certain level of Shakiness...but credit or blame for that would depend on one's point of view.

If this all seems a bit light-hearted and tongue-in-cheek, I think Leggs would appreciate it. I give my deepest condolences and sympathies to his family and friends. If you never got to meet Leggs, suffice to say it would have been memorable. That's the kinda guy he was.

Tonight, I say farewell to my friend. If there is an afterlife, as many of us have been taught, I figure he and Charlie Feathers will be continuing their discussions on politics. Until we meet again Leggs, have fun fun fun til daddy takes the T-Bird away!

Gweddill Mewn Heddwch, fy ffrind!