Quote:
Originally Posted by Flower Child
I throughly enjoyed this. That guy is an absolute wizard with that guitar. I have seen nothing like that before. He reminds me of a gypsy you would see wandering around India or something. I liked reading your experience and analysis over him too. I could definitely see where it would be hard to go back and play the guitar after hearing him play. I would seriously pay good money just to be able to do this last song. .
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What the videotape of Broz doesn't capture is the raucous, take-no-prisoners live performances of his early shows at Duffs. Bob would jump up and down like he was on a spring board when he played, and would frequently wander away from the stage and prowl through audience area and jump up on the customer's tables like an demented erotic dancer doing windmills on his National Steel guitar, and playing it between his legs and behind his head.
One night Bob led the entire audience inside Duff's out into the middle of Euclid Ave. and the crowd blocked traffic while it's members were square dancing, Deadhead twirling and doing the funky chicken with Bob the Pied Piper until the cops came and broke up the party. Bob had this talent for breaking down your inhabitions and challenging you to do something really crazy that you'd remember (fondly or painfully) for the rest of your life.
One more Broz story: One afternoon my girlfriend and I were walking in Forest Park when suddenly Bob Brozman came bursting out of the main gate of the St. Louis Zoo running like a sprinter and clutching the neck of his National Steel guitar in one hand. Bob was moving like a freight train, and as he flew past me Broz, said, "Can't talk right now" and off he ran.
About 15 seconds later a contingent of four or five visibly angry St. Louis police officers came bursting though the same gates of the zoo at breakneck speed. They were waving billy clubs and cursing. It was like a Keystone Cops comedy. There was no doubt that the "perp" they were chasing was Broz.
Suddenly Bob broke off the sidewalk and ran down a long hill and into a densly wooded area to elude the cops in hot persuit. Bob didn't need to worry, about 100 yards past the gate the cops were covered with sweat and out of breath.
I asked one of the more approachable cops what the deal was. He told me that skinny sumbitch with chrome guitar was always busking (ie..public singing for spare change) at the zoo without a permit and every time they tried to arrest him, he'd disobey their order to halt and go running off.
When he asked if I knew the identity of the culprit, I told the cop," I'd never seen that dude before in my entire life and I would have remembered a face like that."
My girlfriend and I returned to our walk but the second we both got out the earshot of the cop patrol, we both were doubled over in laughter for about five minutes.