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Thinking about Tony……

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Southwest Blues Review out at Smith and Wilson Estate Winery........Tony on the pink Ludwigs....

The Blues Review out at Arch Dempster's last summer.....Augie Polowick on guitar, me on bass, Leia Weaver on vocals, Tony Meriano on drums, Rob Watson on guitar and vocals and Byron Brunton on trumpet and harp.......

There’s always a special bond between bass players and drummers….there just is. After all, the bass player and the drummer form the rhythm section of the band and work closely together to make sure the band stays together and heading in the right direction. If you want to see a band crumble really fast, mess with the bass player or the drummer. I lost my drummer last week. My good friend and bandmate Tony Meriano, owner of Tony’s One Stop Music Shoppe died unexpectedly, and it has left a huge hole in many lives. Things will never be quite the same without Tony. I wish there was something more I could say or do for Lori and the rest of his family. They were all a very big part of his life. He had huge pride in each and every one of them and to hear him talk about the granddaughter, Peyton, well, you could just tell how he felt. Tony and I had our first grandchildren about the same time and we often compared notes on how the little ones were coming along. He loved music, man. When I first met him, he was “retired” from playing. But the more I talked to him, the more I could tell that the itch was still there. He loved to play and that was more than clearly evident on this past January 30 in Ridgetown when the Southwest Blues Review did its last gig. We knew Tony was feeling tired and we never hit the stage until midnight – he never stopped smiling and shot me a big flash of those pearly whites when I gave him a giant thumbs up when we finished….Couldn’t talk about Tony and music without mentioning the Beatles…..and here we had big common ground as well. No deference to Stones and Zeplin fans, but we just knew that it was the Beatles who changed music and the world forever. We both loved John Lennon – he was and remains the master. I never attended a Southwest Blues Review practice during the spring, summer or fall at Tony’s barn without taking a walk around the property to check out the gardens. Tony had the greenest thumb of anyone I ever met. His garden was dazzling and I think he was truly at peace while out among the plants in the early morning. Tony grew fig trees….which I didn’t even know you could grow around here. Anyway, last summer, he presented me with a tiny fig tree – a great honour for me to have something from Tony’s garden. It did great last year and even produced a couple of figs. I was noticing the end of last week….even as the awful news about my friend was spreading through the community…..that it is greening up again and getting ready for a new year. And I’m not much of a gardener, but I’ll try to nurture that little tree and make it grow and it will be a wonderful reminder of the drummer with the green thumb. I could not write a piece about Tony without talking a little about his sense of community. There is hardly a group or organization in Chatham – and beyond – that have not been helped out in one way or another – usually with the loan of a PA system or an amp or some other piece of musical equipment. Our last gig in Ridgetown was at a benefit for Haitian relief and somehow that was fitting. He liked to help out the community. I have played in bands for over 40 years and playing with Tony and the rest of the Southwest Blues Review has been a magical part of all those years. I owe big thanks to Tony, and Rob Watson and Aug Polowick and Byron Brunton and Leia Weaver for putting up with a miserable old guy like me. But this week my thoughts are of Tony…..and his pink drums….and his infectious smile…..and his green thumb…and the Beatles….and his love of family….and just all the things that made Tony Tony. Rest well, my friend….it was too soon, but you have earned it. Rest well…… I’m outta gas today……thoughts are of Tony…..and remember….,”Hew to the line; let the chips fall where