I first met Papa Watkins while performing with his son, Adair, in North Carolina for the Flatrock Playhouse with our other two degenerate friends, Kasey Marino and Matt Faucher back in the fall of 2012. We have a tribute group to Frankie Valli.
He and his lovely wife Dairsie came over from Louisiana not only to support their incredibly talented son, but to meet his fellow performers, to judge whether they were worthy of singing with his incredibly talented son, and then if so, to, of course, throw an incredible dinner party which would last the entire weekend with Louisiana homecoming, lots of drinks and endless laughs and stories and gossip.
I say all of this because by whatever happenstance, the other boys and I didn’t meet Ric and Dairsie til after they saw our performance that first night they came to town.
I write all this in order to give you my first (of many) and lasting and loving memory of Papa Watkins.
He walked right up to me after the concert, shook my hand and said, ‘Son! My name is Ricky Lynn Watkins and your dick can SING!’
Although I laughed and continue to laugh when I think of this first meeting, his truly unique words meant the world to me. First of all, Adair, his son, is one of the best damn singers I’ve ever known. Second, I know Papa didn’t mince words or bullshit you, he didn’t have the time for it, so I knew he meant what he said. And having Papa’s approval and acknowledgment of talent will always mean the world. More still, Papa Watkins took all of us degenerate singers under his care and took care of us many times over the years since. I have many fond memories of Papa, but my dick being able to sing will always top them all as it reminds me of just how special and truly authentic Papa was.
Much love always,
J.D. Daw