Dear Friends,
In our travels, we Gentlemen are privileged to encounter countless peculiar and wonderful characters in taverns, service stations, and street corners across the country.  The sight of two well-dressed men in a gas station or barroom or hotel lobby seems to put many people in the mood to chat.  Chat with us, that is.  And, as the half of our duo who greatly enjoys a quick chat with strangers, this pleases me to no end.

Today, we are delighted to inaugurate our Quick Conversations with The Gentlemen feature.  Here we’ll share with you transcriptions of some of our most memorable brief chats with strangers.

Volume 1 – Service Station, Chipley, FL

Andy Bean enters convenience store wearing floppy cap, suspenders, etc.

Customer: Hey, man!
Andy Bean: Good morning.
Customer: Sherlock Holmes!
Andy Bean: Yup.
Customer: Solve the mystery, cuz!  Sherlock Holmes!
Andy Bean: (laughing)
Customer: Solve the mystery, cuz!

The Councilman enters convenience store wearing suspenders, bow tie, etc.

Customer: (to Andy Bean) He with you?
Andy Bean: He sure is.
Customer: (to The Councilman) Wabson!
Andy Bean: Dr. Watson?
Customer: Yeah, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Wabson!  Solve the mystery!
The Councilman: OK.
Customer: You know where you is?
Andy Bean: No.
Customer: You in Chipley, Florida.  Solve the mystery, cuz.

This has been Volume 1 of Quick Conversations with The Gentlemen.

Yours, very truly,
Andy Bean
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

Dear Friends,
The world has a proud tradition of two-man bands, of which we are proud to be a part.  And as a two-man band, we Gentlemen are naturally fans of other two-man bands.  We would like to share some of our favorites with you.  Today we inaugurate our Great Two-Man Bands in History feature.  We hope you enjoy.

Great Two-Man Bands in History
Volume 1: Hall & Oates

These two need no introduction from the likes of us.  Suffice it to say that “Rich Girl” has been stuck in my head since November 2007.  The Councilman can confirm this.  And we do hope one day to emulate this album cover. Take a listen to genius here:  www.myspace.com/hallandoates.

Yours very truly,
Andy Bean (Oates) & The Councilman (Hall)
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

Dear Friends,
The time has come to speak of New Hampshire, the state of my rearing.  New Hampshire, The Gentlemen have put you On Notice.

I, Andy Bean, this essay’s author and a noted 4-stringed instrumentalist, spent a majority of my formative years cavorting about the granite state.   There, between the ages of 4 and 18, I humbly gathered a small passel of those accolades common amongst promising rural young persons.  For the people and places of New Hampshire, I developed a lasting affection.  Surely, I thought at the time, when I return to this state some years in the future, as one half of a majestic two man musical combo, my home state will welcome me with open ears and wallets.  But, oh the naivety of youth!

Over the last two summers, The Gentlemen have performed in New Hampshire twice.  Attendance at these recitals, despite splendid work by the recitals’ organizers and glowing notices in some of the state’s leading dailies, has been abominable.

Perhaps, I mused to my partner, The Councilman, My Youthful accolades have little influence on the habits of two-man music enthusiasts.

How I wish I knew you in your fit & able youth, replied The Councilman.  I tire of your older self.

After such failures, a less understanding duo might abandon the state altogether.  But, given my personal ties to the area and my habit of returning there frequently to murder fish with a stick and hook, we have vowed to give New Hampshire one last opportunity to witness our musical prowess.  Two concerts approach.

Friday, November 20th at The Salt Hill Pub in Lebanon, NH.
Saturday, November 21st at The Brass Heart Inn in Chocorua, NH.

As we wish to leave little to chance with attendance at these performances, we shall now entice you, New Hampshirites and music lovers all over New England, with two items.

1. We have composed a musical number about Franklin Pierce, our nation’s 14th President and the only one from the Granite State.
   
   We will perform this composition at both New Hampshire engagements.  In the songs, we proudly rhyme Pierce with Beers.  It is not to be missed.
   .
2. And for those amongst you who require a more visual temptation, I present to you the following photograph.
   
   It shows yours truly attempting to remove fish from a New Hampshire river by force.  Sometimes, a man must do his fishing in short pants.

See, New Hampshirites!  Franklin Pierce, Fishing, Short Pants!  You and The Gentlemen have common interests!   Let us prove this to you in person next month.  Join us, won’t you?

Yours very truly,
Andy Bean, Former New Hampshirite
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

Dear Friends,
Today we discuss the Lesson in Etiquette presented to you earlier this week. As you may recall, the setting was as follows:

At a tavern late one evening, you have offered The Gentlemen a pair of complimentary beverages. The Gentlemen, having already accepted and imbibed several, and well on their way to an ill-feeling tomorrow, decline politely.

We presented you, the reader, with four possible responses after having your offer declined. We invited you to choose that which suited your temperament. The Gentlemen, with their extensive experience in the field, have encountered each of these responses several times over. We discuss them presently, and rate each on the Olympic scale of Gold, Silver, Bronze, or Unworthy of Mention.

To The Gentlemen You Say:

1. Are you some manner of sissy? Or perhaps a lady’s private part? A man does not decline an offered libation. A curse upon you!

A Bronze medal response. A challenge such as this to The Gentlemen’s Party Credentials or Gentlemanliness is unwelcome. It is, however, generally quite effective and will typically result in The Gentlemen accepting and guzzling your offered libation grudgingly, at first, and then quite cheerfully. This manner of argument is a popular one amongst concert goers in the United Kingdom. Accordingly, our visit there this Spring consisted of many jolly evenings and many miserable mornings.

2. Very well then. But know this, good men! My offer stands in perpetuity! I shall arrange with the barkeep to keep two drinks of your choosing on hold for you. Redeem them at your leisure, whether it be tomorrow morning or years from tonight!

A Gold Medal Response! A drink offer that does not expire is a drink offer indeed! It is a wise man who recognizes that though The Gentlemen do not desire any additional cocktails this evening, we will likely desire some tomorrow. Perhaps because we lack it ourselves, The Gentlemen hold foresight such as this in high regard.

3. My word! It takes a learned and distinguished pair of minds to know the liver’s nightly limit. What spectacular self awareness! May I instead present you with a medal of Temperance & Rectitude in celebration of your temperance and rectitude?

Another Gold Medal Response! There are few formal awards in the two-man music industry. We are thus happy to accept any that are offered. A medal or certificate of achievement is often the best nightcap to an evening with the drink.

4. Fine. Dicks. That’s the last time I offer drinks to a crappy two man band. Dicks.

A response Unworthy of Mention. The Gentlemen suggest that one who cannot bear to have one’s offer declined is perhaps unsuited for drink-offering altogether. We are fortunate that such persons appear only rarely in our audience.

I do believe we’ve learned something, friends, haven’t we? As ever, thank you for studying with us.

Yours very truly,
Andy Bean, Barely a Gentleman
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

Dear Friends,
We shall now offer you a brief Lesson in Etiquette relating to one’s conduct in the tavern. As is our habit, we shall ask you, friend, to imagine yourself in the position described below. We will then invite you to choose, from a variety of seemingly sound options, the preferred approach. A brief discussion will follow.

The Scene:
You have just enjoyed a splendid tavern concert by a strangely bewitching two man band. They sang several songs about the drink, which you enjoyed greatly. You are now watching them as they socialize with the tavern’s patrons, some of whom are evidently enthusiastic about the duo’s music.

It is clear from observation that the partying credentials of this duo can not be denied. They socialize with ease. Free drinks are tossed their way with great frequency. They guzzle some, politely turn down others, and even hand a few to unsuspecting young ladies (who assume that the drinks was paid for by the duo). Clever, boys!

Indeed, accepting and deflecting complimentary beverages in appropriate proportion appears to be a great skill of these two. This, dandying about with barroom goers, is something this duo does often you presume. It continues on for several hours. What stamina, these gentlemen!

Later in the evening, still impressed by their musical prowess and inimitable charm as conversationalists, and seeing that their hands hold no glasses, you approach them with an offer. Gentlemen, good evening. I am impressed by your musical prowess and inimitable charm as conversationalists, may I buy you each a drink?

The duo smiles as one!

Thank you, good sir, The Gentlemen reply. Your kindness and generosity are both noble and flattering. But, we must most respectfully decline. Our evening’s party is approaching its end. And we wish to avoid a rotating ceiling when we retire to our respective quarters. Perhaps we may reward your kindness with song someday in the future?

And now, friends, we present to you four possible responses offered by the drink-offerer. Each choice paraphrases an actual statement made by a sir or madam in the precise (or approximate, at least) position we have described above. (Those who doubt the veracity of the following are invited to join us Gentlemen on the road for a year. The scene will likely repeat itself many times over).

The Choices:
In response to The Gentlemen, you say…

1. Are you some manner of sissy? Or perhaps a lady’s private part? A man does not decline an offered libation. A curse upon you!

2. Very well then. But know this, good men! My offer stands in perpetuity! I shall arrange with the barkeep to keep two drinks of your choosing on hold for you. Redeem them at your leisure, whether it be tomorrow morning or years from tonight!

3. My word! It takes a learned and distinguished pair of minds to know the liver’s nightly limit. What spectacular self awareness! May I instead present you with a medal of Temperance & Rectitude in celebration of your temperance and rectitude?

4. Fine. Dicks. That’s the last time I offer drinks to a crappy two man band. Dicks.

We invite you to reflect upon the choices and select that which best suits your personal inclinations. We shall discuss the responses – and the approximate sources thereof – in our next posting.

‘Til then, I remain,
Andy Bean, Chief Drink Deflector
The Two Man Gentlemen Band
www.thetwogentlemen.com

Dear Friends,
The morning after a performance, we Gentlemen can often be found in your local antique or junk emporium in search of aged records and, for The Councilman, miscellaneous household knick-knacks.  We are the ones in slightly disheveled evening-wear, milling about groggily.  Our efforts are usually fruitless.  But occasionally, as today, we Gentlemen are victorious.  A bit of digging in Charlottesville, VA uncovered for us a lovely 78 rpm copy of Zez Confrey’s “Kitten on the Keys”, recorded for Edison in 1921.  Here is someone else’s copy of the same record. Enjoy!

Yours very truly,
Andy Bean, Record Enthusiast
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

Dear Friends,
Between concert engagements this month The Councilman and I shall endeavor to ready a minivan full of new compositions. We intend to record these compositions next month. As a special treat, I shall reveal to you here the titles of some of these pieces. We think these titles accurately reflect the current State of The Gentlemen.

Me, I Get High on Reefer
We’re Going into Business
There’s Something in My Trousers
The Death of Franklin Pierce
I Feel Like Making Love To You
Put It In My Ear (When You Make That Music)
I Like To Party With Girls
Wine, Oh Wine
I Already Have a Dance Partner

We look forward to performing these for you posthaste!

Yours most anticipatorily!
Andy Bean, Gentlman
The Two Man Gentlemen Band

P.S. As we took much of September off, we’re doing a bit of study before our next string of recitals…

Dear Internet,
I present to you the quite unbelievable two-part conclusion of that True Story of Two Man Gentlemen Band Survival begun many months ago.

As this is a serial piece, I invite you to re-ingest the opening three installments here, here, and here.  For those who cannot be burdened with additional reading, I shall, grudgingly re-set the scene:

The Gentlevan has, for the first and only time since, failed us.  The Councilman and I are stranded, with shredded tires and no tools to mend them deep within the Utah desert.  It is nearing 3 o’clock in the a.m.  There are no antennae to receive our telephone calls for help, and no queue of passersby waiting to assist us.  It is very dark.  We are forlorn…

Our options were, as we figured them, two-fold.  The Councilman and I could equip ourselves with mild helpings of water, bourbon, & snack-meat and head off in opposite directions through the desert.  If luck smiled upon the gents, perhaps one of us might stumble on a pioneer village or a friendly native medicine-person who might heal our gentlevan.  Or we could wait patiently for a kind motorist to offer us a lift to the nearest settled area.  Both approaches offered equally slender prospects of success.  But, being that we had no bourbon, water, or snack meat, a hike was disqualified and we had no choice but to wait.   The Councilman and I positioned ourselves along the highway’s shoulder, ready and eager to wave our sleepy arms with haste.

But our arms had little opportunity for waving.  The highway was barren.  We attempted to pass the time and quell our worries with conversation.

It’s our first time in a desert together, friend!  I offered.  Isn’t that nice?

Indeed, not!  Replied The Councilman.  And we returned to silent contemplation of the roadway.

But not for long!  A distant rumbling!  Approaching lights!  A an extra long tractor trailer truck!  Two young men gesturing frantically!  An unconvinced driver!  Distant taillights!  A weeping young man!  Another young man teasing the weeping young man for behaving sissily!  Two young men wrestling in the desert!  A distant rumbling!  Approaching lights, etc.!

The scene repeated itself a dozen times over.  Identical tractor-trailers ignored us at unsafe speeds, hauling what appeared to be large tractorfuls of rocks.  A nighttime armada of rock haulers!  But they were of little use to us in motion.

To seduce their attentions away from the road, we attempted every gesture and come-hither epithet at our disposal.  My attempts to mime “we have a flat tire, but a stripped lug nut prevents us from swapping it” were earnest, but ineffective.  The Councilman’s shouts of “My Daddy is a rock-hauler.  I love you, Daddy!” were, I hope, drowned out by the passing engines.

Are the lords of two-man music making Jobs of us with these empty temptations? we wondered.  We felt a sinking kinship with the hundreds of miniature desert rabbits, who in their feeble attempts to cross the interstate were being thrown, squashed, liquified, and broken in turn by each passing truck.

But we are far from cursed, my man-friend and I!  For just as our arms were losing their strength from excessive, and incoherent waving, a hauler appeared convinced!  He slowed and halted a hundred yards from us.  I rushed along the highway to address the driver.

What’s the problem? he asked.

We are a two man band in distress! I answered, and explained the business about the flat tires, the stripped lug nuts, the inaugural musical journey westward, the wrestling with The Councilman in the desert, etc.

A two man band?  He appeared skeptical of the specifics of my relationship to The Councilman.  My boss doesn’t like me picking folks up.  You boys may have to wait ’til daybreak and flag down a cop or something.

Please Dear Sir!  I am but a humble banjo player in need.

Did you say BANJO!?  Hop in!  I’m the biggest fan of banjo music there is.  I knew I had a good feeling about you boys.

You are?  You did?  Well I’m the biggest banjoingt hitchhikist on the highway tonight, probably!  Yeah!  Banjo time!

I shouted to The Councilman to guard the gentlevan and to stay alive, no matter what occurs.  I will return to you, friend!

He responded with a cheerful extension of his middle finger.  I hopped aboard our rescuing motor-steed and we were off!

Now, we can all agree, friends, that any who claim “Banjo saved my life!” or some similarly hyperbolic business are not to be tolerated.  The banjo is a dreadful instrument that has caused more irritation and ear-drum bleeding than perhaps any of its sister noise-makers.  It has little power or purpose beyond that.  And yet, I can declare to you, friends, without exaggeration, that “Banjo saved me from the unpleasant inconvenience of sleeping in a minivan stranded in the Utah desert.”  This is something indeed.

But our ordeal was far from over.  For though we was a cheerful man, and indeed a lover of the banjo, my rescuing driver’s intended route from the scene of our disaster to the nearest town was not, shall we say, a direct one.  Several hours of darkness, mystery, and desert characters awaited me still.

My goodness!

As ever, I remain,
Andy Bean
The Two Man Gentlemen Band
www.thetwogentlemen.com

Dear Friends,
Here is one of the many reasons we enjoy life on the road. Some breaking news from Lancaster, PA:

Dear Friends,
One hates to end one’s summer with regrets, but we Gentlemen must confess this one:  With all our two-man music making, excessive socializing, and interminable minivan driving, we’ve had precious little time for electronic journal keeping, etiquette lesson giving, and general word-making here.  For this we have issued ourselves a Blogging Demerit.  And while we haven’t yet the time to compose at the leisurely pace which we enjoy (another stage and sparse crowd beckons!) we are please to share with you a handful of summer time photographs and their accompanying captions.

Here is The Councilman declaring “This guy is ready to learn about making jazz!” at the American Jazz Museum in Kansas City.  Or he might have been saying “I am an American Jazz Museum.  Visit me.”  I can’t remember.  Either way, The Gentlemen have become significantly jazzier since our visit.

Friends, do you get really excited to see banjos that were played by obscure Kansas City sidemen?  Probably not.  But, Andy Bean does!  Here here is just feet away from Leroy Berry’s banjo (played on some of our favorite Bennie Moten records).

Here are Tim and Kerry from Unique Ink in Fredericktown, MO in front of the classiest Two Man Gentlemen Band poster ever created.  Elements contributing to it’s classiness:  it’s huge, it’s framed, and it was made with 24-karat gold leaf.  My goodness!

The Trouser Mouse Bar in Blue Springs, MO is the only venue we know of with a strictly enforced NO MUSTANG SALLY policy.  Accordingly, our second set there included Mustang Sally, Answer to Mustang Sally, and Mustang Sally (Reprise).  We were promptly boo-ed off the stage.

For his birthday, I took The Councilman to Detroit (It’s always been his dream).  After a lovely day spent playing on the radio & sitting quietly in a hotel room and an evening full of music-making and coaxing the obliging audience to buy The Counce celebratory shots of liquor, I delivered the birthday boy (at 3am) to a local Burger King for a special birthday dinner.  Despite the advertised 24-hr drive through, no one seemed present to take our order, which agitated The Councilman to no small degree.  Here he’s seen shouting for assistance after exiting the gentlevan and prying open the drive-through window.

We are gentlemen, indeed, are we not?

Yours very truly,
Andy Bean
The Two Man Gentlemen Band