Michael Taub mtaub@visionrepair.com

It was about 1969 and Dave Van Ronk was up for the weekend. It always was a huge deal when he played, and rightly so of course. A really busy weekend and good for the Caffè. We (the kitchen crew) didn't see much of him as he went right to Mother's (Goldsmith's) while we hung out at the old Executive, the only remains of which are the black and white tile floor at a sports bar.
     Holy Cow. We couldn't understand how Mr. Van Ronk could run up a tab of $20 before the show, but he did. But that was the sixties on Phila Street, another place and time. So needless to say he is high as a kite and starts into his set. What a tremendous performer he was. But before I continue, I must tell you that the Caffè was different then. There was a counter near the kitchen exit that we all sat behind to watch the shows. The spotlight was controlled by a simple dimmer switch that was mounted on a floor to ceiling post (remember this detail).
     You can see the counter in the old painting that hangs in the Caffè. If you look closely you can even see the wooden Indian that Utah showed up with one day. But back to Van Ronk. He was in fine form, but eventually he decided to settle down and sing a quiet, serious reflective tune. I think it was 'Green, Green Rocky Road' or something like that. But he can't get going. He tries once, plays a few bars and cracks up, a second time, three, four.
     We are losing patience but the audience is loving it. Anyway he finally get going and all appears well, until Ellen, one of the waitresses, breathes a sigh of relief,"finally," and turns around and leans right on the dimmer switch on the post and blacks out the place. Pandemonium and bedlam.
     The audience goes wild and no one can believe it. finally, the lights come back on and the crowd quiets down. We all wondered what the great man could possibly say. He covered his face with his hands and says "Words fail me." It was probably the only time in his career!