The last open jam I was at was at Blind Melon's in the San Diego beach area, a blues jam, and the room was lousy with guitar tappers , grotto mouthed garglers posing as vocalists, and horde of harmonica players in the audience, jamming along with the creaking 12 bars the band was putting out . The barstools and cocktail tables were awash in wheezing, freewheeling waves of unsubstantiated merit. Those not tooting along were arguing over who was better, Bob Dylan or Graham Nash. On stage was the city's superstar harmonica player, Sturdy Gert Quakeshaker, a large man with a leather harmonica ammo belt draped over his chest. The band kicked into a shuffle in 17/2 time. Sturdy Gert took a large breath, sucking out all the air in the bar , causing everyone to pass out for a minute,. Good thing I brought my oxygen mask to this jam. When everyone came to, they saw the legendary Sturdy Gert Quakeshaker had exploded. It was a mess, and I never got to play.