Reading the obits this morning, my eye was drawn to a picture of a man in a big hat. The name was ELEAZER, Joseph.
I met Joe when “social media” had a more literal meaning. Members of the media hanging out over beverages of choice.
Joe’s medium was his music. I met him in the late ’70s or early ’80s, while I was covering an event in Hartford’s Bushnell Park. “Tiny Joe and The Family Band” were performing, and by the end of the evening, I knew everything Tiny Joe wanted me to know about Tiny Joe. Tiny, he was not. He was large, and larger than life. And he could really, really sing.
Over the years, the phone would ring, and on the other end was his instantly recognizable gravelly voice.
“Gerry, Gerry, man, you gotta come see us play at (fill in the blank).”
Sometimes I did. He was fun to know. Enjoy the video. (Joe takes the stage 1:18 in.)
Funny, I don’t recall him ever mentioning he was a Native American. A Mashantucket Pequot. But I met him before…