Black Country

Jimmy, as usual, had caught the Hong Kong flu again and had long since locked himself and his family in a room of the boathouse. Robert, seemingly inseparable from his family not unlike Jonesy, had taken his loved ones into town to, unbeknownst to Jimmy, shop for some antiques that might peak Jimmy's Christmas spirit. It was December 20th and the band had been operating from inside the cabin for little more than three days now. G, being the ever strict manager he was, had dropped a brick on the boys earlier that day when he told them it would be yet another Christmas away from their family.

"Jonesy's gonna worm out of it again," Robert had snapped, clutching at his wife Maureen. "He couldn't dare be separated from Mo back in '69 when we had out first tour. Grant, you bollocking fool, stop planning things on Christmas!"

Jimmy didn't seem to mind. In fact, he didn't even seem to care at all that Charlotte was even round now. He hardly cared that anyone was here; poor bloke always worked himself into some sort of flu since the days he'd toured with Christian Neil and the Crusaders. With all of the boys either attached to their wives' hips or curled up in a ball in their room, Bianca, Peter Grant, some other no-namers, and I were left to make casual, and not to mention awkward, conversation in the front room until one of us left, usually me. I spent a lot of time wondering the lands in those few days, usually alone unless one of the little-uns came up and took my hand and led me down a "magical" path.

With Robert and Jonsey out, and Jimmy's flock pestering about upstairs, Bianca and I were left to eat our breakfast with Bonzo, Patricia, and little Jason.

"Jason, Ja- don't do that please," Patricia snapped as her son began to drum on the table with his knife and fork. "Stop that please, Mummy says- Jason, stop. Don't make Mummy count."

"Ah, leave him be," Bonzo said without looking away from his eggs. "He's practicing."

"Practicing playing the table, per chance?" she retorted, eyeing Bonzo half seriously, half lovingly.

"No, Pat, playing your nerves," he laughed. I realized then and there how absolutely hilarious and contagious Bonzo was. His dry sense of humor, a result of having professional comedian parents as Robert had once explained to me, always brought a laugh to the mouths of those near him and his laughter was so intoxicating that it was near impossible not to laugh when he did. Everything about him was humorous and loud; as he shoveled a forkful of egg whites into his mouth, he studied Bianca and I across the table.

While Bianca fussed with Jason, I smiled back at Bonzo and he swallowed quickly. He drew a sleeve across his mouth, burped, and took a swig of his brandy-and-orange juice before addressing me in a friendly way. "You and Bia busy today?"

Bianca turned and stayed silent. I glanced at Patricia and replied, "I planned on heading home, actually. I'm getting real sick of being stuck in with nobody and a sick man upstairs. Plus, I really can't go for a walk, now can I? We got about 10, 15 centimeters of snow last night and I didn't bring my snowshoes."

"You're not going home," he said between obnoxious chews of egg and kipper. "Come with Pat and I. We're heading into Henley-on-Thames for some shopping. You too, Bianca."

"Oh, no, I'll stay here," she almost whispered. "In case Jimmy needs me."

"Well, why would Jimmy need you?" Patricia asked politely. "He has Charlotte. But if you don't care to join, you could stay behind with Jason. He seems to have taken a liking to you!"

"Sounds great, Patty, thanks!" Bianca cheered. "I have some things with EMI to finish up before I could even think of Christmas shopping."

"Well don't take too long," Bonzo said, "because I expect something pretty well thought." He grinned and wiped his mouth finally with a satin napkin before standing and taking his plate toward the kitchen.

After about an hour of getting ready, Bonzo, Pat and I all left in search of some Christmas presents for the group. I had many ideas reeling in my mind of what to get everyone, but two thoughts were most prominent in my mind: I had to get Jimmy a better gift than Charlotte and Bianca combined and I had no money. I would most likely browse for the day.

It was a short ride into town, but in the few minutes we had been stuffed in the backseat of a car, I had learned a lot more about Bonzo than I ever knew. He was born in Redditch ("It was just bloody Brum, but far better than that soddy place...") during the war and he had picked up drums at a young age. He could play the drums with his fingers ("Cut me fingers up real bad, but you don't see other drummers beatin' me at me own game!") and his first professional drumkit was a personal-made kit from Ludwig with extra large bass drums ("26 inches, thanks to that Vanilla Fudge drummer, Carmine Appice. Jimmy got them taken away from me-- 'too loud, I can't tell time!' Nancy.") and extra large drumsticks. He and Robert had started out in the black country making a living in Band of Joy until the day Jimmy invited them in the band. He and Robert went way back ("He was always more of a brother to me in those days than my own brother, Mick...") and they were still the best of friends. That was why Bonzo always tried to out-do himself every year with Planty's gifts.

As we neared town, Patricia began our own conversation about the hardships of tagging along with a busy-body band until we found a nice place to shop.

"What does Jimmy like?" I asked as we entered a small corner shoppe that doubled as a cafe.

Bonzo replied slowly without looking at me. "I don't really know the gent all too well, but I know he collects antiques and art. Planty says he likes biology and all that gag. What would he like from you?" He turned to eye me, a knowing and worried look in his eyes and Patricia disappeared into the trinkets. "You can't get him antiques or art or none of that crap. You need to get him something they--" he jabbed a thumb behind him at nobody in particular-- "can't get him."

"What might that be?"

Bonzo paused for a moment, examining a stitched pillow beside him before looking me in the eye again, intensely serious. "Well, we're going to have to go to a record store for that, now aren't we?"