“I’m from Dauphin Island, so my family goes way back. My mother was the oldest girl of 13 children, and all of her brothers played musical instruments.

They’d come in, set their whiskey bottle on the kitchen table, throw the cap away, and start playing.  I’d just be sitting there watching and thinking, ‘One of these days, I’m gonna do that.’ They’d have fiddle players, guitar players, and piano players all over the place. All family. Most of the time, I was just watching and learning.

I was making money playing music by high school. It was a little rough and tumble, but I had a good time.  The first place I played was Brookley Field, then Keesler Air Force Base, and all the clubs in Mobile: the Capri Club, the Rose Club, and Chaparral. 

I played the Dixie Club when Jody Payne was there. Jody was Willie Nelson’s guitar player, and we became lifelong friends. The Allman Brothers were called the Allman Joys back then; they played at Malfunction Junction at the Stark Club. They had the best harmonies. The Versatiles stole all of their music, then my band stole all of their stuff. The music came right down the line; just add your own touch to it.

Our band was called the Clique, and we toured everywhere. In Boston, we thought we’d turn the bathroom of our motel into a steam room. Here’s five guys sitting around naked with all the hot water turned on, like a sauna. All of a sudden, we heard tiles fall off the wall. Clink, clink. Every tile fell off. We got out of there quick.

We opened for the Coasters, the Drifters, BJ Thomas, and Dr. Hook. Countless folks. One time in Pensacola Beach, we were supposed to open for Johnny Weissmuller. He was Tarzan. We played the first set, and it emptied out. The guy said he couldn’t use us. We were loading our equipment, and all the kids came in from the beach. He comes running out: ‘Hey, do y’all mind setting back up?’ I had him by the thumb then.

I did a thing with Vince Vance and the Valiance in Hattiesburg. We played the first set and were in the back playing pinball. This God-awful fight started out, and they were coming through the doors. They got them all out, and we went to the club owner to get paid. He said, ‘Y’all didn’t play but one set.’  I said, ‘Well, that ain’t our fault.’ He pulled out his gun, sat it on the table. I said, “Well, I guess that’s the way it’s gonna be.’ 

That’s why I treat all of my guys fair. 

I played in enough clubs–I never wanted to have my own. I had a music store in Mobile, and we kind of ran that into  the ground. I was going to go back to Dauphin Island. My wife worked at the courthouse for 30 years, so she was going to work for the judge down there. I was going to play music and fish. I had it made.

But 28 years ago, my daughter and son-in-law talked me into opening this place on Royal Street. I said, ‘I don’t know about that, man. It’s got a lot to it.’ This building had been a naughty cake shop and an antique guitar shop with guitars nobody could afford.

We opened Veet’s on Mardi Gras. Three months later, my daughter comes to me and says, ‘Pop, we gotta get out of this. I’m pregnant.” My wife and I like to went bankrupt that first year. My friends were playing for me and wouldn’t take pay a lot of times.

Downtown was rough then. I could look out that window and see prostitutes and drug deals going down all up and down the sidewalk. Now it’s the safest place downtown.

One night, a friend brought Toby Keith into Veet’s. We were closed, and me and Gina were sitting there when this big rascal came walking through the door. I told him my cousin owned a club in Nashville—the Bourbon Street Boogie Bar. He knew my cousin, so we got talking. He said, ‘You got a guitar in here?’ We sat down there and played till almost daylight, passing it back and forth.

Toby played a song and said, ‘I just recorded this. Bobby Braddock wrote it, so it can’t be bad.’ I said, ‘What’s the name of it?’ He said, ‘I Wanna Talk About Me.’  I said, ‘That’s the name of the song?’ He played the song, and I loved it. Toby said his manager wouldn’t let him do it. Two or three months later, it came out.  I guess Toby wore him down.

Mobile music is different from any place else. Pensacola pickers are completely different from Mobile pickers. We’re pretty well known. When we went to Nashville, this guy said, ‘Oh no, not some more Mobile boys.’ There’s a lot of Mobile folks in Nashville.

What makes Mobile different is being more friendly. We’re just like a big family. No real jealousy. We’re all about supporting each other. I’ve made so many friends doing this. That’s all that counts right now—family and the friends you make along the way.

The hardest thing was when my brother died. We played together for close to 20 years. He wrote all of our songs.

Now I’m the grandpa around here for all the young guys. Eric Erdman. Brandon with Red Clay Strays—I could recognize Brandon’s talent back then when he and Drew played here for the first time. They weren’t nothing then, and now they’re the biggest thing.

I still have guitars on every wall of my house. When my great-grandson comes over, he always asks me to take one down and play him a song. I guess our family music is going to keep passing down.”

Doug (Papa Veet)

Happy 75th Birthday Papa Veet!

Here’s Papa Veet playing “Check Yes or No” with Meredith Hicks.