The Tree Frog Band


You’ve met two of my three new buddies, Gofo the tortoise and Tina the rabbit, in previous posts. They’re gentle, laid-back folks that match the area we live in.

Then, there is the Tree Frog Band. I count them as one friend … they function that way. They are natives. However, they’d fit in better on one of the “B” streets, Bourbon or Beale. I can see them strolling Rodeo Drive or 42nd Street.

Frog band with 2nd set of instruments. Courtesy of Matlacha Menagerie on Pine Island

Frog bank with 2nd set of instruments. Courtesy of Matlacha Menagerie on Pine Island

The Tree Frog Band is a quartet. There’s Gooey Feet who plays guitar, clarinet, and sings tenor, The Mad Hopper pounds the keyboard, blows the trumpet, and sings “Dew-up,” Green Jeans strums base and sucks the sax, and Croaker is the lead singer … and … well … croaks. They were the first folks I met after we moved in. What a group! They can do endless sets, never taking a break. They’re a gregarious group, always ready to hop on the stage and do their thing. Unfortunately, that thing is one song … A Rainy Night in Florida.

I’ll never forget meeting them for the first time. I was walking down the stairs intent on finding the right patch of grass when a voice crooned, “She has natural rhythm.” It was Croaker.

“Yeh, man, a maxed-out, cool bitch,” Green Jeans offered.

“Look at that tail swing. Dig that for a drum beat.” Gooey Feet was right in there,

The Mad Hopper added “Dew-up.”

Croaker asked, “Have you considered the stage, Golden lady. New York? Maybe Vegas? Picture you in a bikini with feathers in your fur.”

I said, “I ha—

“Hows about Hollywood and the flicks? You’d wow them in Caan.” Green jeans said.

I said, “Well—”

“She’s a natural for Nashville,” Gooey Feet opined. “Let me hear you yodel.”

“I can’t—”

The Mad Hopper added “Dew-up.”

“What a beauty,” Croaker said – “What a body,” Green Jeans said – “What a voice,” Gooey Feet said – “Dew-up” The Mad Hopper emphasized. In unison they declared, “She’ll make billions!” “Dew-up,” The Mad Hopper finalized.

About that time the rain started. “OUR QUE!!” Croaker screamed. “One, two, three … It’s a rainy night in Florida” – and so it continued. I was forgotten in an instant.

It’s the same routine every time I go downstairs after or during a rain. The lines and lies are identical. I know it’s all just frog poop … they’re spreading their bologna … except for the Mad Hopper … he’s a square up guy … but I enjoy it. A girl just can’t get enough flattery.

 

Sandy

2 thoughts on “The Tree Frog Band

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