Eddie Condon once tried to tell a New York Daily Newsman, in the plainest language he could muster, about his troubles in making the "real jazz" pay enough for tea for two, or keep body & soul together night & day: "We bled to death. We were eating off each other's wrists. We had one paper hat right on the hook but when we mentioned money he jumped back in the icebox." Another potential sponsor died during negotiations: "He went cool on us. They had to throw dirt on him."
Last week, in spite of all, Guitarist Eddie Condon got a nightclub...
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