The trip to Nanjing

It’s been a long time since the (JZ All-star) big band went on its crazy adventure to Nanjing last October, but the story is too good to leave untold. Of course, it wasn’t scheduled to be a crazy adventure, but rather a simple big band gig in Nanjing for the German week festivities happening there. We knew it was going to be especially festive on our own return trip, as it happened to be E.J. Parker’s birthday during the drive back to Shanghai (after midnight the same night). The trip getting there was mostly uneventful, except for a sudden exploding tire sound and hasty stop to check it, and then after a pronouncement of “tire’s not blown, just lost the surface of one” an exceptionally slow rate of speed that caused the ride to take about 6 hours. Also Barry Wedgle (who was filling in for Lawrence Ku on the trip) fell asleep and Rolf took this classic picture of him just as a truck passed by carting a horse and carriage. As the bus pulled into Nanjing, we proceeded to get lost as nobody had thought to bring a map of Nanjing with us, and our driver received a stern talking-to by Coco for his oversight. We had initially departed from Shanghai with plenty of time to spare, but with traffic jams, the tire issue and the subsequent snail’s pace, we were already coming into Nanjing an hour after the originally scheduled sound check time.  We were all on edge, thinking we were going to miss the sound check completely, that everything was going to be a mess, and it was all the driver’s fault. At least we all thought so.

Now if you’ve ever received a stern talking-to by Coco Zhao, then you would probably feel wronged too. Our bus driver certainly did. But he didn’t say much just then, and we rushed off the bus as soon as we finally reached the venue hoping we hadn’t missed our chance to sound check, and already accepting the possibility that the whole big band performance was going to be ruined. Of course, we hadn’t remembered that the event company running the entire event was German–and so of course a sound check was promptly arranged, and it was lightning-fast, ultra-effective, and simply a breeze. In and out, boom. Not a problem at all. We were shown our dressing room, barbecued chicken dinner was served, and we played the show for throngs of screaming teenagers without a hitch. After packing up and getting another snack, the band got back on the bus and got ready to celebrate E.J.’s birthday for the bus ride back to Shanghai. The bus tire had been repaired while we played the gig so it should have taken only 3 or 4 hours to get back.
We had just passed around the second round of vodka-soaked gummy bears and had just cracked open some beers when the bus passed through the toll booth and suddenly pulled over. The driver stood up as we looked on and simply said, “who’s got my money?” He insisted that his boss told him not to drive one more meter until he’d been paid in full for the trip. We yelled and pleaded, begged and fumed, knowing full well that he was just bitter about receiving a Coco-yelling and wanted to delay us even more for hurting his feelings earlier in the day.  However, nothing seemed to work, and finally after at least half an hour one of the trombonists called the police. Meanwhile, James Danderfer in his sunglasses and black leather jacket was on the roadway trying to flag down another bus for us to hire and ride home in. The cop who finally showed up told the driver to get moving, and finally he did, grudgingly. And before we took off again, the cop pulled us aside and said, “when you get back on that bus you leave him alone. Poor guy has obviously been abused by you cruel jazz musicians.” So we did. We left him alone and we partied the whole way home. Except E.J. was the only one who lasted past 3 hours of warm beers, vodka gummy bears, and more warm beers.