This was like out of the screenplay of "Footloose"... I remember one night of a community dance entertained by premie musicians of which there were here and there a few very much accomplished ones -- I think it was somewhere at Larimer Square in Denver this night. I was living then in a house harboring the current local resident mahatma assigned to the community. Hearing of the dance, he became spiritually incensed and felt it his ballyhoo to do something about this outrage of premies going off the rails to an evening of a community sponsored (!) dance. I was attaching myself to this mahatma at the time, somehow got roped in to go along for the showdown or old western gunfight or whatever it was to be.
We arrived just before the dance had got going, and this mahatma in pink robes and shaven head announced his presence, attracting and calling to the mat the musicians, pasting them with devastating pronouncements of their waywardness. One of the band knelt at the mahatma's feet actually crying, and begging forgiveness. I'll refrain from mentioning which mahatma it was playing this part, nor the musician.
We left believing the dance was squelched, folded up and everyone gone home with our departure. But I suspect it went on anyway that night right after we left.