Good day and welcome to the ORANGE ROOM. Pull up a bean bag chair and I'll light some incense.
It's raining today in South West Florida as I write this blog. Sharen and I have enjoyed three months of winter snow birding and the Flying D'Rito Brothers have completed 16 dates of a 21 date tour which ends at the end of this month, March 2022. We hate to see it end. Sometimes it's hard to believe how many years I've been playing live music. Today, I'd like to concentrate on my years in the Limestone Marching Band and later, the Limestone Jazz Band.
When the days were psychedelic..... the mid 1970's.... My ORANGE ROOM was my sanctuary. I slept, practiced guitar, and listened to music in a burnt orange bedroom in my parent's home in Mardell Manor. By the time I began my freshman year at Limestone High School, I was already playing guitar and singing in bars on breaks with my Aunt and Uncle's country band and I definitely wanted to participate in band at Limestone, especially the JAZZ BAND. However, there was a procedure that needed to be followed to eventually get a shot to play guitar in the Jazz Band. I needed to first join marching band and participate in daily practices which included music theory and reading. We would march at the home football games, play pep assemblies and participate in contests along the way. I could pick the instrument of my choice... but I was a guitar player!!! What would I choose? It was all going to be new to me, so I decided on drums.... but every other kid wanted to play drums as well!!!
So by default, I was assigned the Baritone!!! THE BARITONE!!!!! OMG!!! That's the TUBA's dumb little brother for those that don't know... and it's about the least coolest instrument in the marching band!!!! Oh well, I needed to pay my dues to get the chance to audition for the coveted guitar seat in the Jazz Band.
I seem to remember that the first year was mostly just daily class practice, learning to read the music and its corresponding fingering positions on the instruments .... in my case, the Baritone. Now, I had some prior training from guitar lessons but this was bass clef and I was never a strong reader, but eventually, I did manage to learn my baritone parts and develop a pretty good sound. Now it was time for phase two.
Phase two began about 7:00 in the morning during the Summer before our sophomore year. Now the trick was to march in unison while playing our previously learning music parts. Easier said than done. I watched several bandmates fall during the course of those Summer rehearsals. Trombones crumpled by a misfortunate misstep. Line drummers summersaulting into the mud after a rolled ankle!!! I on the other hand took to it fairly easily. At least I never fell!
The camaraderie was building with each morning practice. I remember one girl and I repeating lines we had heard on the National Lampoon Radio Hour the prior weekend. Several of us had the same goal...which was to get through this and get into the Jazz Band. It was almost like the Military I suppose, although I never experienced that. But we had our drill sergeant, Mr C, and he was shaping us to think and move as A GROUP! Before long we were fitted for uniforms and were all set to put everything we had learned on display during the first Football home game! It was exhilarating!!!! We finally excepted our roles within the band and became PROUD AND LOUD!!!! Mr C had done the impossible!!! He had taken a bunch of sarcastic punks and honed them into a cohesive musical unit. We were GOOD!!!! I can never thank Mr Cunningham enough for all his knowledge, patience and mentoring.
As the year progressed, I had assembled a rock n' roll band and we were hired to play many after school dances. So, immediately after halftime marching band performance, I'd put away my horn and shed my uniform which included the obligatory feather on my helmet and change into my rockstar clothes of the day then set up our gear in the school cafeteria to play dance music for our peers. I had been getting notoriety that year after our band won the best musical act in the Limestone variety show. Also, many of our classmates were coming to the monthly dances we played at the local MOOSE LODGE TEEN NIGHT. In fact, I remember an english teacher, Mrs Walker, used to treat me like a long haired dumb ass until one afternoon as she was reading the local PEORIA JOURNAL STAR in class, ( we were finishing an assignment ) she noticed a rather LARGE advertisement promoting DARREN PEACOCK and his band FIREHOUSE this Saturday at the VFW on Adams Street. With a fairly surprised voice, she snapped, " DARREN PEACOCK!!! Come here!!!" Now what did I do?, I thought to myself. She was smiling as she showed me the advert in the paper? "Is this you?" "well yes it is" I said. And with that, she just went off... telling the rest of the class about the ad and went on and on about it. She treated me differently after that day for some reason. But that's kind of how it was for me back then. I was never a great student but I did have respect from most of my teachers because of my music abilities. It wasn't as common then and it may be now.
As my Junior year approached, several of the spots had opened up in the Jazz band with graduations and I became the new Jazz band guitarist. I was thrilled. The drummer's were all my friends, including Mark Morreto, Darin Bloomfield and Steve Pitzar. In Fact, Darin and I were best friends and played together in our rock band. We were tight. We all had great ears and even though my reading chops were never the best, I could learn my parts by hearing what needed to be played. Also, many of the tunes we played were radio hits so I would learn my parts from a combination of chord charts and playing to the radio. We did alot of CHICAGO tunes including Dialogue Parts One And Two, 25 Or 6 To 4, We Can Make It Happen and others. Great stuff. Sometimes there were tunes that I wasn't familiar with but after following the chord chart, I could come up with cool parts and was allowed on several songs to improvise a lead guitar solo. One such chart was called, COUNTRY TOAD which we played in an upcoming Jazz Festival.
On the day of the OAK LAWN JAZZ FESTIVAL, the band members met in the Limestone Parking lot at some ridiculously early hour. It must have been around 5:00 AM as we had to load the School bus and drive up to the Chicago suburb. It was below zero when the rhythm section met first in the parking lot. I remember listening to Space Station #9 by Montrose very loud in the drummer car as we waited for the rest of the band to arrive. My car did not have heat so I needed the joint that was passed around as well as the warmth of the drummers car. After a few minutes, the rest of the band began pulling in and we loaded our gear and uniforms onto the bus and headed north for our first JAZZ competition.
It was a day long state competition and bands were set to play based on a time schedule. In between band performances, all bands waited in groups in one LARGE gymnasium. There must have been thirty jazz bands in that large area with each one occupying a corner or portion of the gym. Every band seemed like they had their own character. One band were athletic and did hours of calisthenics. Another band seemed like young children and just ran and screamed. Another band, just practiced, another passed footballs. Like I said every band had its own character. Our band.....smoked pot. By the time it was our slot at the festival, our rhythm section and a few horn player were floating pretty good. We changed into our band uniforms and carried our gear to the stage. I was playing my 1966 Rickenbacker 370 through a 1968 50 watt Marshall 8x10 cabinet. It was loud and sounded great.
God bless our director, Mr C because I know we probably caused him some unnecessary worry... but he knew we could play and we certainly did NOT want to disappoint him. I think we played a few tunes and we absolutely KILLED IT!!!!! On the song, Country Toad, I played an inspired solo and ended up WINNING A FIRST PLACE AWARD for my solo at the OAK LAWN JAZZ FESTIVAL!!!! We never let Mr C down but I'm sorry for the undisciplined behavior at times. At graduation that year, my first place award was mentioned during the ceremony as my mom and dad beamed from the bleacher.
It all happed when days were psychedelic....... just another tale from the ORANGE ROOM.
Jim Peacock - agent. All right!