Ahhh. Me home town.....

I was about to say, didn't Duane and them wear some velvet themselves? Well, they didn't do ballet type things, I'm sure of that, so maybe that was what Duane was bothered by. Hmmmm... whose story is true? Dickey might be sour-graping on Butch. Butch might be indirectly picking at Plant. Or everybody might have been so drunk or stoned that they don't really remember things right.
Man, I'm glad I'm not a judge and have to decide this! (Besides I look terrible in black.) But if Butch's story is true, I would sentence Duane to have his hand personally slapped by yours truly. If Dickey's story is true, than Butch gets the hand-slapping. So even if I'm wrong, nobody's really out much of anything. :)

Butch is definitely no stranger to hyperbole, he talks so much crap. Always has, always will it seems. Gotta believe Dickey on this one.

We've seen plenty of pics of Duane decked out in ruffles and lace. Velvet is not a reach.

There is velvet in that Les Paul case..does that count ?

Who is that crazy looking dude playing guitar ?

Claude has/had a big mouth and you can only believe 1/2 of what he spews forth. According to Reddog, there was one original member of the band that Duane had any concern about "following" his vision. Now we know it wasn't BO, him and Duane were Brothers from different mothers, Gregg, naw a definate follower, Jaimoe was finally getting paid working with a blue eyed soul man, Dickey, say what you want, the man is loyal to a fault. Now that leaves the one and only big mouth Claude. Duane should have let him become a math teacher instead of giving him the opportunity of a lifetime. He wouldn't be bashing America and talking about France all the time if DA had of let him be. As for the velvet.....Duane Allman looked good in any and all clothing and he wasn't too shabby without any clothes either. Can't imagine him worrying about anybody elses clothes. Now Page and the bow might have gotten a rise out of him, maybe not.....I mean he did make magic with a cold medicine bottle on his finger!:D

Thank you Donnah for finding still hidden gems. This pic is a new one for me. Love the close up.

Wail on, Skydog!

Sometimes he put gauze around the magic to keep it all snuggly and warm..

White velvet..sort of.

Dag, y'all are harshin' on Butch. I'm sure he was just letting fly from memories tainted with substances. We know Duane could be as much of a dandy as the next guy when he felt like it.
And I think that Butch is also loyal to Duane. He's just got this messianic spin on him that Dickey doesn't have. But they both love him, ya know?

Donnah, you are too kind. I think ol' Butchy loves Butchy. And I think he makes up as many "memories" as he remembers. And his memories always put him (Butchy) in the thick of things. In my opinion anyway. I do agree he loves Duane, he just has forgotten who Duane was and what he stood for. Now I know ya'll gonna hate on me and say nobody knows how Duane would have been had he lived, but Duane was "everyman" and Butch definately ain't. Can you tell I'm not a big Butch fan? Love ya, Donnah.

I'm not understanding the animosity. He's got hero worship and he sometimes paints his hero in colors he finds more heroic. Just dial it down a notch.
The person who always came off to me as a bullshit artist was Bobby Whitlock. He came on here and jacked me up and Butch might do the same to you. ;)

Duane's playing goes right to the pleasure center of my brain. Somehow it's also left me open to discussions about velvet pants.

BTW, Starla, I cannot believe you're not remarking on the derriere. Asleep at the switch, you.

Hum, Starla not noticing a derriere is strange. I hope she doesn't have the swine flu or something. Yes discussing velvet pants is alot better than discussing.....well, I better shut-up before you put me in the same catogory as Bobby Whitlock! (which I might add, I completely agree with you about).

Wail on all you Duaniacs!!!

I'm here, I'm here! Had two job interviews today (one wherein the person interviewed me for all of five minutes, so I can pretty much cross that job off my list.) and other errands and excitements. Not to be a downer, but a cousin of mine is stationed at Fort Hood, so there was some confusion and uncertainty till he got word to everybody that he was okay, and in fact was off-base at the time of the shooting. Thank goodness!
And yes I did notice the fine derriere! Indeed I did! Ooh laa laa, le bon-bon! Tr`es beau et tr`es bien! Va va voom! Mmmm-mmmm, good!
There, happy now? (I should mention that Dustin is leaning on my shoulder laughing at me as I type this. He's just jealous which he has no cause to be because I say the same about his butt all the time.)

Yeah, lets not forget DA's ass.

I am sure he would appreciate it .

Yea! Where or where is Starla on all this?

Ok, I'll admit it. I wore a blue crushed velvet tuxedo to a prom in '71 and wanted to be one of the Tempations until I learned I didn't have the right tan.

As Csason on eloquently alludes, velvet is for guitar cases. Plant was quite full of himself back then (see his segment of the film "The Song Remains the Same").

Little Richard was just fine with me; I even got a kick out of Bootsy Collins' antics. At the end of the day, it was the music that mattered.

Donnah, you did a great job moderating this interesting discussion. Bye the bye, I gave Duane Wednesdays a little shout out post at my blog, Gold Coast Bluenote this week:
http://goldcoastbluenote.blogspot.com/2009/11/duane-allman-wednesdays-at-florida.html

or clicking on my name will get you there.

"Tr`es beau et tr`es bien! Va va voom!" -- that's more like it.

Glad to hear your cousin at Ft. Hood is okay.

LOL@Owen. Aw, he might have liked the thought that ladies in the future would be ogling him a lil.

Sure he would have! How could he not? Especially if if he could share a laugh about it over Starla's giggly-schoolgirlishness with real man's-men types.

Sure! Now all we gotta do is find those real man's-men types.

I think Owen fancies himself one, for a start. Even with that kilt.

Feh, if it's not an alligator skin kilt then he's just another poseur who likes wind on his nethers.

And he never did answer the $64k question about what exactly is worn under a kilt.

Ahh, someone just came in on the search term "gregg allman is a narc." LOL. Let it go, people! Heh.

It could be worse. They could have done a search for "Greeg Allman is a narf." Or even a Nurc! Think of it!

Donnah how about tracking back to Whitlock's rant on you so we can all see what a dumb*ss he is. So, is Gregg Allman a narc? You can discuss among yourselves. Are you sure the search wasn't for Duane or Gregg Allmans ass in velvet?

And Starla, good luck on the job hunt. I'll be rooting for you. Are there any alligator skin processing plants in your neck of the woods? You would be a natural at that ;).

Cindy, not a gator plant to be had, just chicken plants and, while I don't mind getting my hands dirty, I do draw the line at coming home and smelling like Frank Perdue's dirty laundry. :)
Who is this Bobby Whitlock anyway? Inquiring minds want to know. Hey, maybe *he* is a narf! Or worse, a nurc!

Bobby Whitlock was a member of Derrick & the Dominos.....the Eric Clapton band.....you know "Layla". He has more "stories" than Butch Trucks ever thought about having and most if not all are fabrications according to the folks that were there. And to make things worse..he got smart with our Queen and you know that don't sit well in Crackerland!!!

Shooweee don't you get no stinking job in a chicken plant. Those things are horrible. My Mom & Dad lived upwind from some of those things and in the summer it was some more stench!

Now let's discuss butts & velvet, please. Owen we know you want to!

Cindy, it sounds to me like you got some stories to tell.

So you actually had a bona fide celebrity come to your blog? And he got snarky with you. That's really a shame. I'll throw a dead chicken at him if I ever see him. With your name on it.
Cindy, have no fear. No chicken plant work for me. A friend of ours hurt his foot in a car crash (crunched it to splinters, really) last year and couldn't work at all in his chickenouse so Dustin and I went over several times to help his wife pick up the dead birds. That's unpleasant work! I don't know if it was worse picking up the dead ones or wringing the necks of the near-dead ones. Bleeeccccckkkkhhhh. It'sa wonder I still eat chicken.
Okay, butts in velvet! I have one thing to say, and that's a certain butt might have looked really good in velvet, but it looks even better in denim.

Once again y'all are courting an ugly and dispiriting sexual harassment lawsuit from me. This has become a hostile environment. I demand equal-time photographs and serious discussion of the business end of Bonnie Bramlett in the relevant period. Velvet pants optional.

You mean like young Bonnie Bramlett in velvet hotpants with thigh-high snakeskin boots? Who'd want to talk about that?
What I was contemplating is that I do not like a skinny butt on a fellow. Many, many times I have pondered that while Duane was indeed a skinny guy, he did not have a skinny behind. Another of the many things I like about Duane.

Discuss.

I agree. Some skinny guys have a butt that's flat as that spelling book of mine that got rained on in fifth grade. NOt Duane. He had a very cute little bubble butt, very flattering. He probably never gave it a thought, but it suited him to a t.

Starla, I would like very much to think he never gave it a thought.

Meanwhile, I personally have a big ol' double-d butt. When I leave a room, you can still see velvety traces of it for several more minutes. You could eat dinner off it while I'm standing up (but no flaming stuff, please). The complete works of Charles Dickens fit across it chronologically, horizontally, in hardcover, except for either "The Pickwick Papers" (on the left), or "Edwin Drood" (on the right) (as of the last time this was attempted).

Ladies, eat your hearts out.

Oh Joe, surely it isn't that bad as you make it out to be. Surely not in hardcover! Are you sure it's not all paperbacks?
Well, I do solemnly swear not to try and put my dinner plate down on your butt when I can't get to a table, as long as YOU swear you won't set your glass down on top of my head when all the coffee tables are being used. Not that I would mind holding your drink for you, but I have never mastered the model's trick of balancing a full glass on my head.

Oxford Editions, Starla, so they're fairly small, though fully illustrated. For Christmas I'm sending you a Carmen Miranda fruit hat, so you won't have to worry about people setting drinks on your head, stacking unsorted mail, building houses of cards, changing babies on it, etc. And I should have mentioned that while my spectacular butt will accommodate a romantic dinner for two, it's highly flammable, especially when I'm lying, so no candles.

Now if you will all pardon a bit of non-dorsal (but fully Allmaniacal) digression, I'd like to weigh in on Velvetgate '09. I think it's highly possible that both Butch and Dickey are giving their honest memories after 40 years, and that the truth (as often happens) is muddled in the middle.

Exhibit A: If I'm not mistaken, Butch's full comment years ago about record executives wanting Gregg to "prance around like an English pretty boy" included velvet pants in the imagery. If so, velvet pants are linked in Butch's mind with the idea of the English pretty boy, so the pants could have crept in by association.

Exhibit B: we all know why one comes to Duane's band: play music? Check. Show off fancy duds? Not as such. So Duane could have reacted very negatively to that one performance by Page without getting permanently down on him.

Exhibit C: a buddy I work with (a professional drummer, by the way) pointed out that he had mocked all kinds of fruity clothes, particularly in those days, that he ended up wearing later.
So Duane could have simply changed his mind or submitted to the Velvet, or- as happens to the best of us- been dominated by a female buying his clothes. That's part of how women mark their territory, incidentally. Full list: (A) get a drawer at your place (B) start buying your clothes for you (C) slowly cull your friends that they don't like (D) get entire closet at your place (E) own your immortal soul, wear your ass for slippers, et al.

So Butch and Dickey could be just remembering different things, but both right in spirit, telling it as they recall.

Sorry to be the thread-killer! Somebody else say something! Duane's butt- anything!

To paraphrase Bill Cosby: "Awww man! Joe can turn a phrase!" "Allmanical." "non-dorsal" and "wear your ass for slippers" are all gems.
Or it could be that Butch is attributing to Duane opinions held more strongly by Butch than by Duane, and even at Butch's age, he is still leery of owning his own unfavorable views on Robert Plant's velvet-pants-assed antics. So he lets Duane be the one to do that now that Duane can't contradict him.
Or maybe it wasn't so much the pants that Duane hated, but hte ballet stuff and the prancing-pretty-boy behavior in general. The velvet might just have been the icing on the whole Absurdity Layer Cake, as it were.
And while I will confess to doing some of the things you mentioned we gals do when in love, I have never and never will buy a man a pair of velvet pants, mayb not even if he asks for me to do so. Velvet collects lint, fuzz and cat hair like a sponge!
Now, let's see... *steps into four-inch red heels, plops Carmen Miranda chapeau on head at a rakish angle, paints lips with shining scarlet and sways about the room, swinging hips and snapping fingers* Do you think I need a coquettish fan to flutter?
Oh well, I like the hat. I wish I'd thought of being Carmen for Halloween. Instead of Jessica Rabbit. "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."

"Or it could be that Butch is attributing to Duane opinions held more strongly by Butch than by Duane..." Absolutely possible, Starla- people do that all the time, intentionally or unintentionally. (Projection?). All good points. And my point is just that the velvet pants might not be a deal-breaker on whether or not this memory has some basic truth. We just focus on that because it's fun to say/type "velvet pants". Velvet pants. Velvet pants. Bonnie Bramlett. Velvet hotpants. Thigh-high, snakeskin boots. (Slaps self).

Next time any of you are dressing up like Jessica Rabbit, by the way, I'm in the book. Actually, she was "drawn that way" by a couple old friends of mine- I used to work in that business.

Still gotta finish my report from the two accident sites one of these times. I'll try to go back in the daytime at some point and get pictures- maybe I can send them to our peerless leader for the files I hope she's keeping.

Maybe I'll be Bonnie Bramlett next... oh wait, I'm already planning on being a harem girl next Halloween. But still... hmmmm.
Tell your old friends I happen to love Jessica Rabbit! The sparkly slit dress, the hair over the eye... so much fun! "Why don't you do right, like some other men do? Get out of here and get me some money too!"

I have come to the conclusion that Butch likes saying "Robert Plant prancing around in velvet pants". Maybe that is all there is to the story. After all it is kinda of catchy. Could be a song of some sort:

I saw Robert Plant, prancing around in velvet pants,
Made me grimace in my soul,
Had Duane Allman ready to go.

There was Jimmy Page using a bow,
Oh my Lord what do you know!

Next verse is yours Starla. I should have let Ben do the actual writing of the tune.

"Robert Plant prancing around in velvet pants" is very hard to say without tripping over it. Could be a new tricky sobriety test.

Second Verse:
I like my men in blue jeans, like 'em nice n tight,
So all that foo-foo ballet business gave me quite a fright.
A fine derriere is designed for to be seen,
So if you got it, don't hide it under that sissy velveteen!

It's not your pants that count- it's what you do in your pants.

I saw Robert Plant, prancing around in velvet pants,
Made me grimace in my soul,
Had Duane Allman ready to go.

There was Jimmy Page using a bow,
Oh my Lord what do you know!

I like my men in blue jeans, like 'em nice n tight,
So all that foo-foo ballet business gave me quite a fright.
A fine derriere is designed for to be seen,
So if you got it, don't hide it under that sissy velveteen!

Sufer Joe has let us know,
Tight Blue Jeans or sissy velveteen,
it's not the pants that matter,
but if the pants are clean!

Pretty good! I'm sure Joe will love being name-checked.

Who dat in dem velvet pants?
Are they Page's, or his aunt's?
I can't bear another glance
Did he come to play or dance?

See him pose and see him prance
Be them britches full of ants?
Duane and Butch, they looks askance
Starla sighs and Cindy pants

Jimmy's got 'em in a trance
They see Paris, they see France
All that velvet ele-gance,
Hey, what's that protuber-ance?

How they hugs his dorsal cleft
'pears he dresses to the left
Ain't he fine and ain't he fancy,
Go back home, ya English Nancy!

Damn Joe! You've got me beat all hollow with those lyrics! Wil you marry..oops, I forgot! lol Silly me! And I was sitting here trying to come up with a rhyme for pudding. See, I wanted to say something about the proof being in the pudding. But failing that, how's:
Apples, peaches, oh my my my!
All those fine posteriors do I spy!
All arrayed in jeans so blue,
But none in velvet, I'll thank you!

Move over Starla, we got a new poet in da houz!

Joe wins, I give!!!!!!

Yes, Joe does win. He wins the souped-up nCadillac from No Money Down. If he doesn't like it yellow (I never could abide a yellow car myself but it isn't my car) we can have it repainted. How about Black Velvet? Or Blue Jeans Blue? lol

You ladies are too much. Thank ya, thank ya. Funny stuff by everybody! Starla- rhymes for "pudding"? Hmmmm...if you're Southern enough, maybe you can make "wooden" or "couldn't" or "good'un" work. If you're a Yankee you're out of luck.

If you do another verse on that last one, "do I spy" would rhyme with "bahonki", the plural of "bahonkas". Most people think it's "bahonkases", but it's "bahonki". Latin, I believe.

I'm almost afraid to ask, but what are bahonki?

What a fine derriere do I spy!
Some say, since he's such a skinny gyy
"To have a bubble butt? Naw, he couldn't!"
But I'm here to say "Proof's in the puddin'!"

Funny stuff! Even though I'll have to give up pudding for a while!

A bahonkas is the last part that goes over the fence when you're shootin' at people in your yard- and the eventual subject, it seems of every thread here.

One bahonkas, several bahonki. Beyond that, I don't know what they're called in groups: a gaggle of bahonki? A pride of bahonki?

Bahonkery? Bahonketeria? Bahonkistry?
It's too bad you're off pudding now. I have made butterscotch/vanilla swirled pudding for dessert tonight. And I've got whip cream to put on it! Yum Yum.