My Night with Buster Poindexter

alias ``But Ricky, I want to be in Show Business"


by Carolee Ross

Carolee Ross
Dancing onstage at 18 years of age

Originally written in 1993 and published in Times-Mirror Newspaper Syndicate


My elegant, aristocratic, Russian-born father wanted me to be a university art professor. My mother, born into a poor, conservative family, thought that either a good secretarial or an accounting course would be more practical.

Me -- well, being a child of the Hollywood musical fifties, my head was full of other dreams. I wanted to float like a feather with Fred Astaire as my partner, heat up the stage alongside Rita Moreno in ``West Side Story,'' play the timbales with salsa bandleader Tito Puente, rock along with Grace Slick and Jefferson Airplane, belt out a tune with Bette Midler. I became, in due course, an adjunct art professor at Hofstra University, a manager of several art galleries, and an office temp during some particularly hard times. Ultimately, I found myself in the most interesting, exasperating, frustrating and gratifying of all professions. I became a freelance arts writer and did corporate newsletters to support my arts addiction.

There's an old expression which goes something like, ``If you wish for something hard enough, you just might get it. My dreams were fulfilled, out in ski country, last weekend, (back in February, 1993) in Snowbird, Utah, while on assignment, writing a daily newsletter for one of Fairfield County's largest corporations.

Contrary to common belief, corporate trips are non-stop grueling assignments. They do have their up side; lots of food and drink, combined with some pretty wild nighttime entertainment which is always kept a secret, up to the last minute.

Last Thursday evening, the lights dimmed in the resort's theatre and there was our evening's surprise. Straight from the bayou country of Louisiana and the streets of New York, was Buster Poindexter and his band. Buster proceeded to rock us, titillate us with his raunchy, bar room style humor, and amuse us with the mobile contortions of his marvelously silly face; somewhat of a cross between the Stone's bad boy, Mick Jagger and comedian Joe E. Lewis of ``Some Like it Hot'' fame. But wait, folks there's more.

Buster Poindexter
aka David Johannsen
courtesy, Google Photos

In the improvisational, anything-goes spirit of the evening, the band's drummer, Tony, jumped off the stage, bringing his drumsticks into the audience and cajoling a beat out of anything he could get his hands on -- bottles, glasses, tabletops, even a spare pate or two.

Along with the rest of the audience, I was caught up in the rhythm, rockin' and clappin' along with the beat, temporarily forgetting that I was in the presence of about 500 of my client's employees, including the CEO, Chairman of the Board, and several vice presidents. That's what watching Poindexter and group can do to you.

Suddenly, the spotlight was on me. Tony the drummer was grabbing my hand, leading me in a sensuous tango, whispering that I was an exceptionally good sport.

That's when I lost it. Buster and crew started playing a burlesque bump and grind and with Tony egging me on, there I was, performing to the music. Almost immediately, Buster came downstage and claimed me as his partner, leading a conga line to the tune of `Hot! Hot! Hot!' that went round the house. The last thing I remember was grabbing several upper management people and leading them in the line.

Well, Buster is coming to Stamford, Connecticut, folks. And I've been invited to be his guest at the Terrace Club this weekend. I've also had a request to do a command, repeat performance. I guess I'd better take him up on his offer. After last week's display, my writing days may soon be at an end.

Thank goodness for those secretarial courses.