Club won’t be missed
To the editor: It’s quite obvious you never visited the 555, a.k.a. the 777, bar. To call it a night club is one of the greatest stretches of imagination I have ever heard.
To the editor:
It’s quite obvious you never visited the 555, a.k.a. the 777, bar.
To call it a night club is one of the greatest stretches of imagination I have ever heard.
As a professional musician and entertainer I have played almost every venue in this city.
A number of years ago I was contracted to play that very spot.
My daughter was back for the summer from Humber College in Toronto where she was studying jazz and performance as a bassist.
I thought she could use the extra cash so we asked her to play.
When we went to set up the owner was so belligerent he would not turn on the lights in the stage area so we could see what we were doing.
He had the music system on so loud we had to scream at one another to be heard.
That was the good part. That night was the most embarrassing job of my career.
We could not count the number of falling down drunks and the number of fights.
At break time I couldn’t stand it to be inside, so we decided to go outside. We had to step over a passed-out drunk who was laying across the outer doorway.
I said to myself: "If this is the best I can do after playing for 30 years maybeI should give it up."
The next day the owner contacted our agent and said we were great and wanted us back. My reply: "There ain’t enough money in this city to get me back in that dive."
A dive yes, a night club, not on your life. I’m glad no one got hurt in the fire, but thank God it’s gone.