Dr. John

A couple passages from Dr. John's autobiography, Under a Hoodoo Moon.

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Looking back, my perspective on my father had a lot to do with this new attitude; he hated dope fiends, and was warning me to stay away from them--but when I looked around, most of the famous musicians I'd heard of were junkies. That was a heavy influence on me: It was my way of turning away from him, and joining the set I dug.

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On Christmas Eve 1961, my little band and I took a gig at a joint in Jacksonville, Florida. We was getting ready to go to the gig when we realized that Ronnie Barron, who always took forever to do hisself up for gigs, had disappeared. I went to look for him--and found him being pistol-whipped by the motel owner, who'd caught Ronnie with his old lady.

I went to get the gun out of the guy's hand. We wrestled for it; I thought my left hand was over the barrel. We started in Ronnie's room and ended up outside in a brick garden. I beat the guy's hand against the bricks trying to get the gun away from him, and the gun went off.

I looked down and saw the ring finger of my left hand, my fretting hand, hanging by a thread.

I went berserk. I started hitting the guy in the face with a brick; I stuck my finger behind his eyes to try to pop his eyeballs out.

***

And now a video for the title track from his terrific CD, Goin' Back to New Orleans: