On our way to the HOB gig, we'd spied a Chinese buffet--the first one we'd seen in Newport, ironically named the "No. 1 Buffet." Of course, that was our prime destination for food today. Terry rousted us all out around 2 p.m. and we drove the mile and a half to chow down. It was a modest buffet compared to the one in Detroit, but it was more than sufficient to fill us up.

We then retreated to our individual lives. I dove in to catching up on Road Dog Reports, and then did a little exploring around the Motel 6. Situated on the west side of town, just east of the Naval Base, we were 50 yards from a giant new mall with a Walmart, laundromat, a Super Stop & Shop (like a deluxe Safeway), and mostly clothes stores. This would be our base of operations for the next six days, so we couldn't have picked a more convenient area.

We loaded in at the Newport Blues Cafe, an upscale nightclub with a gourmet cuisine of New England fare. The club owner, Heinrich was a hip-looking 30-something fella with slicked back hair and a thick Polish accent. He was a big blues fan, but as we ordered our complimentary dinners over a white tablecloth and candles, he confessed to Terry, "I know I hired you for a good reason, but I can't remember your music." Terry immediately handed him the live CD, and said, "Here, put it on the house sound system, and you'll see." He obliged and soon our gourmet dinners were being serenaded by the Terry Evans Band live in Bern, Switzerland. Heinrich then came up to me and said he had a "no hat" policy in his place: "Once one person does it, then pretty soon everybody's wearing hats," he admonished me. I had forgotten I had my cap on, so I apologized and removed the offending accessory.

After dinner, the sound man came in and set up the mikes, and was nice enough, but he never really got the sound right the whole damn weekend, despite our constant requests. Terry couldn't get the levels he needed in the monitors, so we just played down so he wouldn't strain.

I was hanging out in front of the stage before going on, and one of the bouncers came up to me and said, "Your hat, man. No hats." Duh. I'd forgotten again. So I tossed the rejected headdress across the stage to land behind my drums. Several people watched me do it, and I got a certain satisfaction out of my vaguely rebellious statement. Later, I came to realize that here on the East Coast, gentlemen remove their hats as a common matter of course when entering a building. A custom lost on us wild, wooly and uncouth westerners from Ory-gone.

The patrons turned out to be mostly older well-dressed locals and some obvious tourists--a mainstay of the Newport economy. Most were dinner guests who elected to stay for the shows, and pretty much did hang out the entire night. Although the place filled up by the first set, tonight's crowd was "light" according to Heinrich, who was boasting that his club was the veritable nexus of cultural happening in Newport. In two weeks he was going to close the club for the winter. He said he'd been hit pretty hard by the 9-11 tragedy, as had Newport generally due to its dependence on tourism. The bright spot in town was the Naval Base, which in addition to being on high alert, was beefing up its personnel compliment, adding important paying customers to the Newport economy.

I'd heard rumors from Jesse and Kenny that there was a veritable Shangi-La of a green room on the top floor of the club. I finally availed myself of the four flights of stairs leading there, and was highly impressed with the accouterments. I'd say Heinrich poured at least a half-million dollars into this lavish apartment. There were no less than five bedrooms, a Jacuzzi, high-priced furniture of every description, a beautiful, shiny kitchen and couches and love seats everywhere, not to mention the baby grand piano under an ample skylight. The apartment overlooked Newport bay, and was inspirational to Jesse, who had decided he was going to move in, and that's that...

There was still a pretty good-sized crowd at the end of the night, and there were CDS being sold. Heinrich really liked the band and was a gracious host throughout our stay, very attentive to our needs and made a point to shaking all our hands and wishing us well as we departed.