By Michael E. Miller
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This past summer "Piano Bob" Wilder and Minahan won the local amateur blues band showdown sponsored by the South Florida Blues Society and with it the right to officially represent South Florida at the prestigious national competition. At competition's end, the Miamians were informed they had been edged by one vote by a band from Phoenix. But a recount the following day revealed that the Miamians had actually won by a significant margin.
For Piano Bob and the Snowman, the national victory was sweet vindication. Winning the Handy amateur band competition means playing at the awards show with the likes of Buddy Guy, Jimmie Rogers (Muddy Waters's guitarist), and Diamond Teeth Mary. "It's like blues Mecca," explains the Snowman, noting that the audience was enthusiastic in its response to their brand of traditional barrelhouse blues. "They appreciate us a lot more [in Memphis]. Down here we get treated like background music."
While the Blue Tornados are unapologetic children of the electronic age, Big Bob is well acquainted with Piano Bob's boogie-woogie concept. "I used to host a radio show on WDNA, Morning Mojo, until they decided to take everything African-American off the air," says Big Bob. "Hell, I used to play Piano Bob's stuff on my show. He's an old, dear friend. But they're the most boring blues duo of all time. Can't even get arrested in this town -- and you can quote me on that."
The Blue Tornados had entered the local competition in 1991, finishing third behind Roach Thompson and SoBe Blues. They did not compete in 1992. "We're not part of the inner circle," asserts Big Bob, "like that hokey blues society that only stands for itself. Blues people should be truck drivers and hot dog vendors, not club owners and booking agents. There's been a lot of animosity ever since I left Roach's band three, four years ago. When I left, some people around town called me racist. I'm African-American -- my grandfather was black African. But the Blue Tornados are a band that's gonna put Miami on the map, not tear it down with all this petty bullshit. We're nationally known and this bothers people around here."
In a way, Big Bob's claim of national fame is at the heart of the Memphis brouhaha.
Back in May, the Tornados took a trip to Memphis to play the Beale Street Blues Festival at the behest of Roach Thompson, whose own band was invited but was unable to attend. According to Tornado saxophonist Steve "Speedo" Kelly, the band's official spokesman, the band was so well received at that festival that one of the event's organizers invited them back to play at the Handy Awards later in the year.
"During the course of getting ready for the show, [the show's organizers] mention that they're hurting for money," Speedo recounts. "We have a corporate sponsor, and I told them that these guys in Memphis were hurting, and that there was a real threat that maybe the show would be canceled or moved. To make a long story short, our sponsor donated $5000 to the show. We had already agreed to play. Then, the next thing I know, [Big] Bobby and I are in the car listening to the Len Pace show on WLRN, and Piano Bob and the Snowman are telling everybody that we bought our way onto the show. Bobby was real mad."
Kay Haseloff, chief administrator for the Blues Foundation, which puts on the Handy Awards, confirms that the group was in no position to turn down a $5000 gift horse, but she offers a different take on the Blue Tornados' appearance. "About three months ago the foundation started receiving all these strange calls from around the country -- North Carolina, Colorado -- inquiring about this blues band from Miami, the Blue Tornados, which was supposed to be playing at the Handy Awards. Nobody at the foundation knew who the Blue Tornados were."
Haseloff says that about two weeks before the show, one of the guest bands canceled, and they were left with an open slot. Meanwhile, she explains, the awards show's producer received a phone call that led him to believe the Blue Tornados had been booked to perform. "And three days prior to the awards, a check for $5000 arrives in a Federal Express package," says Haseloff. "Sure enough, the Blue Tornados show up the next day, pushy and intimidating, braggarts to the nth degree. There were many arguments within the foundation about whether to accept the money and what to do about the band. I was so upset and put out that we let them perform."