Of all the experiences I had with Naomi and Wynonna Judd during my time with them, this one seems to be the one most enjoy hearing about.

I was working as entertainer/Entertainment Manager at a very successful nightclub in Dallas (Dallas Morning News - more liquor sold per square foot than ANY bar in the State of Texas!) I was extremely comfortable in my job, when I received a phone call from an old friend, George Honea, who I'd played with years before. George had been the Judds' drummer for several years, and those of us who knew him were proud of his success.

George had called to tell me that the keyboardist for the Judds had been involved in a nasty, head-on collision in Tennessee. The band needed someone to fill in during his recovery, and George offered to call me. Since I WAS the Entertainment Manager, I could take time off whenever I wanted to; I told George to count on me. He told me to expect a call from the Musical Director.

That call came the very next day, and contained an unpleasant surprise: the keyboardist had sustained brain damage, and would not be returning to the band. What was originally going to be rehearsal and some gigs had suddenly become auditioning for a job. I told Mark Thompson, the Musical Director/guitarist that although this was NOT a way I would choose to land a job, I was interested in auditioning for the position. I'd never toured arenas and stadiums before, and did want to experience it, as I'd been in nightclubs for some time.

While I lived in L.A., I'd auditioned for Cher (I finished as the "runner-up") and Donny Osmond (!), but had yet to grab the "brass ring." Those auditions had left me with invaluable knowledge and experience, however. I knew that I would need to know the Judds' music inside-out, and on every level; not just which notes to play, but what feeling the song was trying to convey through music AND lyrics. I took a week off of work, and secluded myself in my apartment, spending every waking moment with these songs. Actually, I did call my Dad and Stepmother a few times.

My Stepmother, Harriet, tried (in her best Jewish Mother way) to keep my expectations low. "Don't be down if it doesn't work out, Honey", she said, in her characteristic Mike Myers-as-Linda Richman voice.

"This one's MINE," I replied, and I meant it. I knew I was musically up to the challenge, and felt instinctively that whomever else was auditioning, they weren't getting "into" the lyrics, trying to feel a part of the stories.

As a finishing touch, I decided that I'd better look the part of a country musician (something I'd never been before). I went to a country clothing store, and promptly plunked down $350+; $100 on two "Garth-looking" shirts, $200 on some black cowboy boots, and the first pair of Wranglers I had ever owned!

A day later, I arrived in Nashville, and learned that there would be at least two auditions: One with just the band, and if one was chosen (by the band) to continue, an evening audition, during which Wynonna Judd would pick the new keyboardist. I also found out that I was one of seventeen musicians seeking the gig. I walked into S.I.R. rehearsal studios, and quickly found George. We smiled, hugged, and he examined the black Wranglers and purple cowboy shirt I was wearing. "What the HELL are you doing in those clothes?!", he exclaimed, and asked if I'd brought anything "hipper." Fortunately, I had, and changed into that garb immediately.

Audition #1 went flawlessly, and along with two others, I was chosen to meet and play for Wynonna later that evening. After audition #2, I received a call from Mark:, who told me that Wynonna couldn't decide and that we'd be doing another audition for both Wynonna and Naomi the following day at the TPAC (Tenn. Center for the Performing Arts), where the tour's full production was in place for rehearsals. Of course, I said yes, and rescheduled my return flight to Dallas.

I met my competition the next morning: One fellow was the keyboardist for Reba McEntire, a young guy like me, who was very nice and talented. The other contestant was equally nice - and was the pianist at the Judds' church. Uh-oh - the dreaded "who you know" friendship AND fellowship connection. The "Reba guy" played first. He began the intro to "Born to be Blue," a piano feature...and flubbed it. My heart sank for him, and he asked if he could start again, was told yes, and...flubbed it again. He was clearly unnerved, and after he was through, I think that all of us knew that barring our OWN mistakes, this was now a two-man race. Listen to "Born to be Blue".

The "church guy" went next, and was perfect. NO mistakes, and the two women obviously felt comfortable with him, hugging him both before and after his audition. I had nothing to lose, so I played my best, and kept one thought in mind the entire time: "Put your SOUL into these songs". I, too, had given a mistake-free audition; it was now out of my hands. The Judds, their management and band adjourned to a room in the wings to talk. "Church guy" and I sat together, nervously joking, and wishing each other well.

Naomi Judd came out first, and asked the church pianist to come with her. As they walked backstage, I was ushered into the room in the wings by Mark Thompson. I figured that Naomi was welcoming the other guy to the band, and I would be thanked for my time and expense. Suddenly, Naomi came in, and declared, "Jon, we've chosen you, and we'd like to ask you some questions." An INTERVIEW? NO PROBLEM...and by the way, "YEAH, Baby!", I thought!!! "Mark tells me that until these auditions, you'd never heard ANY of our music - were you born in a BARN?"

Were you born in a BARN?

"No, ma'am", I replied, "I only listen to 'speed-metal' ". Naomi was the ONLY one who got the joke...and thank God she did!

A week later, one night after I played for 150 people during my last night at the Dallas club, I played my first night as a "Judd Boy" for an audience of 30,000 at the Suncoast Dome in Tampa, Florida. I laughed and screamed loudly and uncontrollably... no one could hear it but me, and even I had to strain to hear it.