piwoSunday evening again. Eudemon is walking with a friend down Locust Street. They spot the PIWO sign on the phone pole at the corner of Locust and Weil Streets. It is in front of Linneman’s Inn. Going inside they meet and greet the proprietors Jim and Marti. They find a seat in the small but dreamy room. Silver stars twist overhead and constellations of small lights twinkle behind the small stage, which is jammed above the end of the bar. Three microphones are set up. It seems a strange crowd to Eudemon. Men with odd shaped cases enter and sit about the room. Kim Zick and Connie Grauer of Mrs. Fun sit by the door as if to collect the cover charge, but there is none on Sunday nights. Royce Hall is scheduled to play and Eudemon sees him grinning and talking to friends. “Is that the back of Sigmund Snopeks head? We’ll have to stay and see what’s happening here,” Eudemon says to his friend. Royce’s partner in the Mosleys, Mike Fredrickson, and his happy hair is at the far end of the bar. Royce gets up to play. He’s using an acoustic guitar and he attacks the music with energy and glee. Before long others begin to join in the fun. The room is filled with music and song as people sing along with these familiar songs. The stage starts to fill. Another singer. Another guitar. Eudemon doesn’t recognize these good folks. Cases open up and out come trombones. Jim disappears out the back door and returns with a small drum set. Kim Zick joins Royce on stage and sits at the drums and sends the beat into our feet. And it all breaks out. The place is jumping. Connie on toy piano flute and vocals, Sigmund on toy flute, vocals and trombone. Two guys at the bar playing trombone. It goes on and on with Royce leading the charge. Take a break and back for more. Everyone is so happy. This is a great place to be with the musicians clicking and the crowd joining in. Ah but Monday Monday. Comes so soon after Sunday. Royce does a version of Taxman and Eudemon remembers not only Monday but April is not far away. Eudemon walks home feeling good. “I think I’ll go down to the River tomorrow and let the sun shine on me and the wind blow in my face while I watch the water flow,” he says to himself, his friend having wandered off with a lady. Riverwest Currents – Volume 1 – Issue 3 – April 2002