A friend of mine and I started playing guitar at about the same time in high school and, like most guitarists, developed a love for Blues music. There was a local bar that would have a blues jam once a week. They had a house band but anyone could sit in on a few songs. We went just about every week. One night we’re sitting at a table a row or two back from the stage with the bar on our right, nursing a couple of beers. There was a guy at the bar that was very conspicuously inebriated. He was kind of swaying on his stool and would order his next round with a loud shout. He seemed like he could have been the inspiration for the John Lee Hooker song, “One Bourbon, One Scotch and One Beer”. Anyway, the band had just finished a pretty good song and a new guitarist was getting on stage to do a couple of songs. All of a sudden the guy at the bar swivels around on his stool (almost falling over in the process), steadies himself, and in the classic drunk-guy-in-a-movie-half-slur-half-shout style bellows out “Hey! Quit playing that n-word shit, and play some goddam Charlie Pride!” The room got pretty quiet, and he turned back around to face the bar and knocked back a shot. It took a few seconds for the irony of his statement to sink in, but you could hear muffled laughter as the band ripped into the next song.