This was in the 70's.It was a really slow Wednesday night,and there was a Marine ,in uniform,drunk as all get out,that decided,after a few hours at the bar,he was going to park his butt at a table in front of the stage and just stare at us,and our bass player in particular
This activity, as well as his continued drinking, went on,till nearly the end of our set.I stood up and grabbed that waitress,who continued to feed him drinks,and who, on a good day,had double digit I.Q.,and told her,this guy was done drinking for the night.
This Marine staff sergeant,then says he wanted to kick the fagot bass players ass,and why don't we play some Johnny Cash,in a thick southern drawl.Now ,we're a straight up rock band,but just for sh*ts and giggles,we learned "Folsom Prision Blues".We had one of those telepathic band meetings,and I counted us in.
After finishing a 10 minute jam of the tune, with a 5 minute guitar solo,the staff sergearnt was happier then freshly slopped hog,and bought us a round of drinks,snapped to attention,in a way that only 6'6" Marines do,and gave his best high ball(that means salute).
Saved by Johnny Cash.After that we never made fun of country western again.
Steve B