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Qualität des Beitrags: Beteiligte Poster: BluesDawg - rhuN Forum: Music-Online Forenbeschreibung: New Official & International Music Discussion Board aus dem Unterforum: Poets Lounge - Lyrics Antworten: 4 Forum gestartet am: Freitag 03.12.2004 Sprache: englisch Link zum Originaltopic: Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues. Letzte Antwort: vor 19 Jahren, 1 Monat, 1 Tag, 9 Stunden, 24 Minuten
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Re: Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
BluesDawg - 06.04.2005, 00:12Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
This is a factual story written about my experiences with "juke joints" that deepened my appreciation for the form of music known as "The Blues".
Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
I must admit that one of the reasons I love blues music came from my association with that most unusual of southern institutions known simply as the "Juke Joint". Back home in Clay County, MS...jukes were part of the scenery. If you were lookin' to drink or party & might not be entirely legal...jukes were the place to be.
Certainly, these were not the safest places in the world for a young white man to frequent, but if you carried yourself in the right way and exercised a little "manners", most would accept you as a regular. Alcohol was usually the main impetus for screwing up one's courage & mustering up a foray into a section of society that most white folks wouldn't consider visiting. It also helped if the owner of the establishment & the customers were familiar with any of your relatives. If they knew & respected some of your "kinfolk", then most likely they would respect you as well.
Fear was definitely ever present as I first ventured into this strange world. I can recall quite clearly the pounding of my heart as I stepped into a darkened club filled with people dancing & drinking in what can most aptly be described as a "feverish frenzy". Startled glances at my entrance were certainly the first reaction I was aware of. Then, an uneasy acceptance gradually took over as the oddity of my presence began to wear off.
Once I was properly identified as to whom I was related to, usually I was allowed to stay. It was then that I could relax somewhat & begin to enjoy myself. Sure, there were always some who resented my presence among them, but that was generally replaced with indifference as time wore on.
The music was so vibrant & alive. It seemed to enter into a place much deeper than just my mind. Oh, that music! Powerful, tangible, and indescribable all at one time. I found myself unable to dismiss or ignore it at that time or since. Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, Elmore James...strange sounding names that piqued my interest as much as the sounds I heard from the jukebox. Slim Harpo, Wilson Pickett, Otis Redding...I would never be the same again.
As I sat at the bar drinking my beer & trying my best to figure out just exactly what a "wang dang doodle" was...I couldn't help but turn and look around the room. Conversation ebbed & flowed like the tide as the patrons went about the business that had drawn them there to begin with. All were drinking, some were talking or singing, while others were dancing or shooting a game of pool. Every few moments, someone would let out a shout or hoot with laughter. Profanity seemed to be common even though smiles were evident on most faces.
I couldn't help but think about these people as I sat there observing their activities. Some were country folks, farm hands, while some were laborers in the local factories. There were pulpwood haulers, truck drivers, and mechanics. These were definitely blue-collar working class folk. Some were unemployed & purveyors of illegal goods...yet all these people seemed to be comfortable around each other. What common denominator enabled these folks to enjoy each other's company & this establishment?
As I pondered this question, I was approached by one of the customers who was obviously inebriated. "Whatcha' doin' here, white boy?" he slurred in my general direction. "This is our place...ain't you got yo own place to go to?" I turned in his direction and said, "I may be white, brother and that's a fact...my momma & daddy had more to do with that than I did, but my money's green & I came to drink, let me buy you a beer." I noticed the bartender & owner of the juke had ambled over closer to assay the situation, but it wasn't necessary. The guy broke into a wide-mouthed grin, jumped up on the stool next to me and declared to anyone listening that, "This white boy's allright!"
My new found friend soon tired of my company & left to rejoin his friends at a nearby table. I sat there and continued to study the room around me while the music continued to play. I began to think that the common denominator to a place like this and it's popularity could be summed up in one word...release. That's what they came here for... release from the everday mundane world around them. The juke provided an atmosphere that one could unwind in and forget about the troubling things of existence. It was a place where one could relax, if only for short time, and escape the cares of life.
The guy at the bar had used the term "our place", and that's exactly what it was...their place away from the other world they inhabited. By coming there I truly had entered into a different world. I had left behind my familiar environment & ventured into a strange land by simply walking through a door. I had uknowingly stumbled onto a great truth....for all the laws & amendments that said otherwise, there were still two worlds in this land of ours.
The longer I sat there, I noticed that I had begun to react to the music from the jukebox. My head was bobbing slowly as my feet were keeping time. Some of the patrons closest to me began to grin as they noticed "the white boy" getting into the music. After several rounds, I simply let go and began to feel like I belonged there. Somehow, the music had become my link to these people from a world so different than mine.
The place had pretty well packed out by this time & most of the customers, including myself, seemed to be feeling no pain. Several couples were swaying on the small dance floor as "I've Got Dreams To Remember" by Otis Redding pounded out of the jukebox. What appeared to be old-fashioned christmas tree lights strung around the walls winked & blinked in time to the music it seemed. My nervousness had begun to disappear, I no longer felt like a stranger...somehow, I now belonged here.
Time seemed to stand still that night for me as I sat and watched the activity around me play itself out like acts of a stage play. I was intrigued by the movement around the room as people moved from one table to another. Laughter and smiles were abundant everywhere as the night turned into early morning. My thoughts were interupted at this time by the bartender,"Son, you want a shot of red?" he offered. Answering in the affirmative, I quickly tossed down a glass of what could only have been Calvert's whiskey. I was to discover that night that in jukes & bootlegger joints, liquor was usually called "red" for whiskey or "white" for gin, and most always the cheapest version of either. As I shuddered, the barkeep informed me that "That'll do you good & help ya too!"
It wasn't long after the shot of liquour that I became aware of just how long I had been there. Concious of the fact that I had several miles to drive back home to the other side of the county, I made my way to the door. The bartender told me to come back sometime & cut a big toothy grin at me as I departed.
A blast of cold december air hit me as I exited the door and made my way to my car. I stood there lighting a cigarette & gazing at the star-lit sky while the music droned on behind me. I couldn't help but hum along as Johnny Taylor asked the question, "Who's makin' love to yo ole' lady, while you were out makin' love?" Laughing to myself, I started my car up & made my way home as the dawn began to break.
Such was my first experience with the juke joints of Mississippi, it certainly wouldn't be my last. I found myself frequenting this & other joints from time to time.The local counties of Clay, Oktibbeha, and Lowndes had plenty such places for me to find, and find them I did. I'd like to also think that I found myself as well, for it was in these places I learned about a side of my world that I had always been kept from by prejudice & societal restrictions. It was also in these places that I learned to appreciate blues music & that's something I've never gotten over.
The End
Larry D. Camp aka
BluesDawg
Re: Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
rhuN - 06.04.2005, 00:41
I have to admit....this is an amazing story, just as you've taken it from a book :) ...and you've truly experienced this all?? and, when was this? I'm very interested :)
Re: Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
BluesDawg - 06.04.2005, 02:15
Back when I was alot younger than I am now...LOL! I grew up in West Point, MS., USA... the blues legend, Chester Arthur Burnett, Jr., better known as Howlin' Wolf, was born about 4 miles down the road from where my mother was born. My grandfather remembers when The Wolf would come down from Chicago to visit his kin & rabbit hunt out on the farm every year or two.
I grew up running around those country roads & did alot of my growin' up in those juke joints. I had to be somewhere around 17 or 18 then. 8)
Re: Mississippi Juke Joints...Hot Bed Of The Blues.
rhuN - 06.04.2005, 11:01
...and this must have been a real experience! ...and this must have also shaped you quite a lot concerning music itself!
nowadays, at least I got the feeling here in germany, you cannot experience things like that anymore...other circumstances and almost nothing within to calm down if you got tired of this!
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