Yeah. In Cab Calloway's band. Cab Calloway's used to hearing a Louis Armstrong rendition or a Doc Cheatham rendition or whatever. Lips Page rendition. Or a Harry James rendition. And here's Dizzy Gillespie starting on a flatted fifth and running all through the music. You can see them cats in the reed section jerking. "What's that note? That note. " They wasn't used to hearing that kind of harmony. I'm sitting there looking, because I play guitar. I can only go up a half tone, because it's frets. [? (inaudible)] went up a half tone. But you see the band . . . when get around to play a solo, you can see the band, their shoulders. They waiting. Like you give them a shock treatment, electricity. That's going in the book. I said, "Keep that in my book. " That's it. They didn't dig Diz. Diz didn't fit in there, because it's another era, and he . . . Cab Calloway was geared . . . with plunger in the trumpet. Plunger and effects. Dizzy Gillespie's going out to outer space, and they couldn't understand that, so they had to scuffle. That was it. I stayed there, and the word begin to get around. Bennie Payne, the piano player . . . I walked in the dressing room. We had been friendly, been out together. Said, "Hey, what you say, Bennie Payne? " He's sitting at the piano. I looked at him. He says, "I tell you. I don't appreciate no man, can't play one solo on his instrument. " Said, "Well I'm very sorry, Bennie Payne. I can't play. I'm sorry. " He say, "Yeah, man, I don't appreciate . . . " I can't buy his appreciation. I please Benny Carter. Why I got to please him? So, o.k. But I lived to see he went in the Army and he got Dave Rivera in his place. When he come back, Cab Calloway didn't want him back. So he hung around the band. After his two week's are up, he hung around the band, dickering and begging for his job. Say, "I been with you all these years. More than 10 years. Why you letting me go? Where I'm gonna go? What I'm gonna do?  I've been in the Army, I served my country, and I come back to my job, and my job . . . I heard somebody was saying . . . them cats was laughing. " But Bennie Payne was a fine piano player, and he could sing. And he had a way with women. He could walk to damn near any woman, say, "Hello, sweetheart. How are you?," because a woman like to be embraced. He just had that, "Hello, darling. [? (inaudible)] How are you, sweetheart? I'm so glad to see you. How's the children? " And on. Nobody would get mad, because he didn't look back the second time. He had that. Now he . . . all them towns we played, there was cocktail lounges, where he could . . . he went in there and he'd break up the place, just singing, playing. People liked what he did, and they would ask him, "Why don't you . . . ? " You're with Cab Calloway. He loved Cab Calloway's band. But he could stop. So in this period of time, when he got him on notice and done paid him off, but he's still hanging on, begging for his job. They buy him a train ticket for him to go to the next stop, because he want his job, and if he don't get his job back, he's going to die of grief. With me, he could have took his job and stuck it. That's what I told him. Cab Calloway, when I quit.