Tales of Bill

January 18, 2010

I met Bill Ganaye while living on the west coast about, oooooh maybe - let’s see; I’mm guessing about twenty plus years ago. Yes, I know it’s been a while but Bill is someone you’d not soon forget. He was a good buddy. Blues mmusician; one of the good guys most of us will meet at some point of our lives if we’re lucky.

We weren’t in each others physical presence THAT long but long enough to make this kind of an impression. He was a good person and a hellova mmusician. When we first met we jammed of course. He was a good blues guitar player but when I met him he was playing bass at the time. It wasn’t long after that he concentrated more on his first love, the guitar.

He had a semi-solid guitar; not one of those fat one’s as most would recognise as that of an acoustic. Nope, Bill’s was definitely electric, not solid wood but hollow. I know he had more than one electric guitar but at this time he didn’t. I called Bill, ‘Mr. Bassman.’ As a bassist he was solid and right on the money; or ‘in the pocket’ as they say. He’d work hard to drive mme to work harder to drive him to work harder and them sum. We played well together; like a team, we were.

No matter what combination of mmusicians we happened to perform with in too many jams to remember; but what I DO remember is that at most free jams we both happened to show up for, he and I always picked each other as the one we wanted next to the other in the rhythm section. I knew what he was going to do and he knew mme. After playing as a team for quite a time we’d look at each other when we hit the groove together as if an alarm went off and say, “You got it!”

Shortly after our first jam he invited mme to meet his folks; his parents. He also wanted to show mme just about exactly where he was going to build his first dream home. It was on the same property his parents Betty and Claude Ganaye had just purchased in 1985; a 25 acre plot of land with a historic house on it that sits on top of Trinity hill in Northern California. Part of beautiful wine country.

Their place sits just outside the little town three miles up from Glen Ellen; a hop, skip and a jump down the hill and you’re stepping into all kinds of wineries in Sonoma’s wine country. Remodeling of the house was completed in 1993. Needless to say his folks were then and are now two of the nicest, warmest and most welcoming people I’ve ever met. Great B & B hosts. Breakfast will kill ya!

After Bill turned mme on to the place he and his folks invited mme back for an incredible dinner/family get together that took place outside and in front of the huge house ‘Above the Clouds.’ It was… and is sooooooo gorgeous of a place. Claude and Betty own and manage the Bed and Breakfast and run it like their own home. You can see them at: http://www.abovethecloudsbb.com/index.html

At that time though they had just acquired the property and hadn’t begun to remodel the house yet but it’s completed now. Without a doubt, if you’re ever in the area, stop by or look ‘em up on the net; you won’t be sorry I can guarantee you that. Tell ‘em I sent you and they may take you up to see and touch Claude’s pets.

One of the great things about the place is Claude (a baker from France) has a group of Mother Nature’s own he calls his ‘pets.’ Unlike what most of us would imagine, they’re not your run of the mill same old dog, cat, bird, turtle, llama, Alpaca, mink, Cockatiel, Cockatoo or any concoction of a pet or even a skunk variety. Nope, not Claude’s. The man’s a special breed with a special breed of pet.

His pets are in the usual but not so these in the swimming category; CATFISH!! I’mm tellin’ ya, he’s got a pond located and situated around one of the most serene settings on the place that is just full of serene. On a scale of won to ten, I’d say this one is a 14. I mean that pond is chock full of fish. If you stick your hand in the water there’s no way you’d not touch at least three with each hand as they kiss your fingers; that is if you’re not holding a piece of bread that may be mist taken.

No kidding; the mman’s a lover of catfish. Feeds ‘em bread all the time so those suckers are huge and plentiful. MMined you they’re not for eating. Better not or Claude will shoot you faster than you could say CLEVER! They’re his PETS! How cool is that? I’d bet he’s taught them to respond in French. They’re French bred.

So yes, I had a great time at Easter and every time Bill and I visited his folks ‘Above The Clouds.’ His mom’s a happy, fun loving and warm person with a huge smile and one who invites anyone she meets into her heart. Needless to say it’s been too long since we’ve reconnected again; in person anyway. From time to time we’ll connect thanks to the net and email. (Hi Betty! Say Claude! – Wave to ya’s ;o)

In any case it wasn’t too long ago when tragedy hit Bill at too early of an age; he’s no longer with us but I’ll always remember that dude; not just for his playing, his friendship and the times we shared as a mmusic team, but also because his parents raised him swell. I loved that guy, his sister with the most beautiful eyes, Colleen; his whole family are good people.

You’ll be, ‘Above The Clouds,’ too if or when you visit them. I’mm sure as you walk around the place, sleep in one of their bedrooms during any phase of the mmoon; they’re situation right in ‘The Valley of the Moon’ in joy their warm hospitality; their remarkable cellar of all kinds of wine, domestic; imported; or even if you’re lucky to sit either on a clear night or in broad daylight perched (or in this case catfished) on the one foot by eight foot weathered board that juts out like a dock to meet unusual pets. Claude and Betty will probably and most likely tell you, if you remember politely to ask; even more

Tales of Bill

Hey! Did you know Bill? When
He played his blues you’d feel
The chills from the neck of his guitar
Way down through your shoe’s.
He’d peel and rip threw riffs,
He’d smile through tunes a gift of his songs.

He had a way with blues ‘n soul
Stories, six or twelve strings told
His touch, we grooved
Melodies all down home, true
Notes chose sing he owned ‘em all.

His time ‘n life cut way to short,
Wild Bill holding true blues court
Beguiling he was mmusic
Dreams played from the porch.
Hey! Did you know Bill?
Bending blues notes

Fingers flying trills hot toast
His mmusic screamed - cried, we cheered
His tone - no fear, that Bill you’d hear
His melody's; yeah! His singing swing’s there
MMusic - dreams played from sincere.

His days with us – good times Bill, trust
We’ll si you Will -We hear you still
Yes, we grin and sing Yaaaaa’s of your
MMusic - dreams heard from your hill.
Hey! Did you know Bill?
Yeah – MMan! DID he thrill!
He’s heaven's Will.
I can hear him still.
Yeah Bill; “You got it!”