I played two gigs today.

Gig number one was a little salsa trio--a party celebrating the first communion.  Did I mention in an earlier post that we had a rehearsal?  We got together in a rather rough part of Decatur at the home of someone NOT playing in the trio (I don't know how that happened, but it made me think driving away afterwards that I probably should have told my family where I would be in case I didn't come back).  Anyway, we sorted out keys, transitions, forms, endings--you know what I mean.

Yeah, well, fuck everything I just mentioned.  The transitions, the form, fuck it all.  Kind of frustrating.  What else?  Well, how about the gig was 2:30-4:30.  I got there at 1:50.  The second guy in the trio showed up at 2:26, so I sat in these people's living room for a half hour pretending to do stuff on my phone, occasionally assuring the homeowners that the band was "right around the corner."  Fun.  And hey, the gig's outside, and it's 90 degrees, and the gnats will fly up your nose while you're trying to solo, and your flute will slide all over your sweaty face.

So…we started 15 minutes late and nobody cared.  Good thing.  It was rough stuff.  We played about forty-five minutes, took a break, and then came back and finished it out.  The people at the party loved us.  I'm so confused.

At 4:30, I ran like hell.  As I was racing down GA400 on my way to Inman Park for a wedding, I got a call saying my keyboard stand had died, so I made a detour to Marietta to pick up my spare.  More fun.

Remember how I said we'd never play the Trolley Barn again?  We played it again.  I think they were much cooler with us than last time--I don't think there were any noise violations.  This gig turned out to be pretty decent for a wedding…very talented crowd…geez…some super hot women.  Cool people all the way around.

I don't think, musically, that I had any disasters.  Also, it was in an air conditioned building, which I enjoyed very much.  It's too hot to play outside.

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