After the big Yacht Rock trip, I finally made it home Wednesday afternoon. Friday, I was gone again, this time headed to Alabama for a weird gig. It might have been some sort of debutante ball, or a gathering of young Trump supporters.
Greg, Mark Dannells, and I were recruited to help fill out the band for a Yacht Rock Schooner gig that none of them could do. In addition to the three of us, we had Ian and Tony from Bumpin' the Mango and Cole from The Shadowboxers. Tom Young was the only actual member of the Schooner on the gig! Ian and I soon started calling this version of the band Spare Parts.
In spite of our situation, the gig was fine. Things were surprisingly cohesive, and the crowd didn't know us well enough to see that we were almost all subs. Plus...they were super drunk. Look no further than they guy in the tuxedo who massaged one of the front line monitors for most of the second set, or the girl whom Greg walked in on while she was peeing on the floor of the storage closet.
The load in/out was pretty tedious (through the kitchen, up the only elevator), but it was certainly worse for the guy who had to leave in an ambulance after drinking too much. Ouch.
After what amounted to a long nap, we headed back to Atlanta early Saturday morning. First up was a noon gig with the Greg Lee Band on Mark Cobb's front porch.
Lunch in Virginia Highland. Tried tofu. Didn't like it.
Next up, we played two shows at Venkman's, celebrating their one year anniversary. The 7 PM show was "unplugged" (maybe labeling it "acoustic" would be more accurate), and the 10 PM show was closer to a normal Yacht Rock gig. I took a nap in between shows.
I woke up the next day on the couch, still in my clothes.
