“I remember very well meeting Tomek for the first time, it must have been ‘98 or ‘99 or something like that. We were playing this killin’ set at birdland, when suddenly walks in this tall dude, with this attitude kind of like: Bang! Here I am. And I was like “Who is this jive-ass clown?”. “The childrens playground is next door, pal!” I remember Buster calling out after he just finished shredding his third chorus of this killin’ arrangement of ‘Take Five’ we were playing back in the day. “I don’t like his f*kin guts” Jeremiah whispered to me over the bandstand while pushing in some dank tritone substitutions. I recall him, Tomek that is. going for the bar in a straight line, and without the blink of an eye ordering a decaf, two shots of brandy and a slice of pizza (Hawaii, I think it was, but i’m not so sure anymore, back then we were gulping down anything that came in our paths so the memory is a bit clouded). There he sat at the bar for a couple of tunes, silently watching us with a slightly absent-minded gaze, his mouth hanging half open. After we finished playing this dope 7/8 thing over the changes of Tchaikovky’s Nutcracker suite, he suddenly got up and headed for the bandstand. “Time to go for a walk” he muttured to our bassplayer, whereafter he took the bass and demonstratively janked out all the cables connected to the amp. We all held our breath while he suddenly cried: “ALL THE THINGS, no intro, follow me 1, 2, 1, uhh uhh uhh”……””

“Yeah, he’s alright! Not a great soloist but a he’s got a pretty solid beat. I would say either fourth or fifth call for a low-profile wedding gig”

“Tomek who? I don’t know the guy... Who let you into my dressing room anyway, get the f*ck out!”

“Hmmm Tomek... Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a loooong time. Oh my, is he still playing? Is he able to make some kind of living out of it? Used to call him for some trench gigs back in the day, mediocre player but great hang. I always thought he would make a great accountant”

“NEVER CALL THIS GUY!!! John and I were having our wedding anniversary in our garden, and through some mutual friends we got in a touch with what seemed like a cute band-booking site who got us a “swinging jazz trio” to brighten up our party. First of all he showed up one and a half hour late, smelling of liquor and bird feces. Then he proceeded to eat the whole wedding cake with his bare hands, while screaming insults to all of our guests. When he finally got up on stage, after tripping several times and knocking over two tables, he played a horrible rendition of “Fly me to the moon” (our song!!!) which he didn’t even finish because he vomited right there on stage! While security dragged him out, he was sobbing and going on about some existential philosopher and his girlfriend leaving him. Never again!”

“Now I am become Badger, the destroyer of worlds.”