March 2024

Wednesday, March 6, 2024: Orlando, FL. Another early flight--I left home at 6:45 AM, and we were in Central Florida at 11 AM--for an 8:30 PM gig. Such is life. I spent the rest of the day sneaking in cat naps.

 
This was a corporate thing for a golf tournament (I wanna say Arnold Palmer/Bay Hill, but I'm not one hundred percent sure). We were at the Hard Rock Live, situated on the Universal Studios property, which meant that there were lots of fences and security guards. 

The Dave School is here, too. It turns out that Dave is an acronym for Digital Animation and Visual Effects, not, you know...me. I'm mildly disappointed. I could teach those younger Daves a thing or two!

Not much else to say about this, so how was the running? Getting off property was a bit challenging. The gate directly opposite the loading dock would not allow pedestrians in or out, and the guard seemed really confused as to why anyone would want to run anywhere. He sent me in a general direction. Nobody seemed to care that there was a random guy jogging around on the backlot of Nickelodeon. The next security gate was also not pedestrian friendly, but her directions were better, so I cut through a building and came out the other side at the correct gate, and they set me free. I went and ran around the perimeter of the property, but I ran out of sidewalk, so I had to double back, but eventually, I accumulated enough distance that I was satisfied with going back to the Hard Rock. Some of the security was confused (dude shows up at the gate in running clothes, no ID, but a Hard Rock lanyard and a printed security sticker from earlier in the day). I guess I should've tried "I'm DAVE! From The DAVE School!"

Anyway, half a day later, we played this gig (following comedian Frank Calliendo, who opened for us). The show was an hour long. The crowd remained seated. They were very polite. Nothing memorable.

 

Greg's brother was there, too.

Saturday, March 16, 2024: Wilmington, VT. Check out the travel details on this one! I left home at 6 AM; we caught a flight to Hartford, CT; got in a sprinter van, drove north through Massachusetts to a ski resort in Wilmington, VT, a drive of roughly 90 miles.

We were playing a concert for members of the ski lodge. Very nice place. I didn't grow up with anybody who snow skied, so this place was weird and affluent. Lunch would've been expensive if I'd had to pay for it myself.

So yeah, kind of a weird gig. Rented gear. My tenor got bent (woah!) by Delta baggage handling, but I could blow hard and make it work--it was just super leaky.

The running was not ideal. I ran down to the main road, but there were no sidewalks, so I opted to run on a gravel road right outside the entrance, and the was very hilly and pretty wet, and eventually hit a dead end, so I got to deal with all those hills again (and the barking dogs--hello!), and then I had to walk/run back up the hill to the lodge. I was still short on distance, so I ran a couple of miles worth of laps in the parking lot, which was also pretty crappy.

I guess the gig was fine? By that point, it was late in the day and I was tired and kind of over it, so I don't remember anything in particular, other than my tenor feeling stuffy. At the time, I thought it might be because of the elevation, but Wilmington, VT (1,565 feet) isn't significantly different from Marietta, GA (1,129 feet).

Thursday, March 21, 2024: Chateau Elan, GA. I got hired to play in a jazz quartet for a private party at Chateau Elan, a winery northeast of Atlanta. The gig started at 5:45, and I mistimed the traffic poorly enough that I showed up at 5:20, cutting it a little close. Pulled my horn out of the gig bag and I was ready to go by 5:30! 

Check out these sweet dirt samples.

This was some kind of party for a non-profit that helps people transition from prison back to the world, and they had dinner and an art auction and some speeches, which meant lots of little breaks built into a two hour hit.

The best part was that they cut us loose for the last speech, seven or eight minutes early, so when the gig actually was supposed to end, I was already on I-85 southbound. I feel like I got away with something. 

Saturday, March 23, 2024: Atlantic City, NJ. It seems like Yacht Rock should've played a gig by now in an Atlantic City casino, but here we were, doing our first. And it was another Hard Rock!

The weather was pretty crappy, with cold rain and strong winds, and I'm glad that somebody else got to unload all of our gear.

It was another Hard Rock Live! This was a small arena that held 7,000. I think we had it almost half full for our show.

The rain stopped, so I tried running outside. The wind gusts were so strong that they'd just about stop you dead in your tracks. I usually try and do out-and-back runs so that I don't get lost, but I hit multiple dead ends on this one. Looks like I should have left the casino (green dot) and turned left instead of going straight.

The casino had multiple restaurants, but they were all really full. I was able to find a table at the Thai place. This was just what I needed.

Pretty solid gig. We're playing so infrequently these days that I wonder how it's going to be when we jump on stage with no momentum, but we had a good time on this one.

These were hot tubs set up on one side of the arena. It didn't look like anybody was in them during the gig--I wonder if they advertised that this would be a thing?

Friday, March 29, 2024: Atlanta, GA. Yacht Rock played Nick's sister's wedding. Six songs, none of which I'd ever played in my entire illustrious career of playing weddings. Actually, it was even easier for me--I only played on three of the six songs! Two sax solos, though--one on the Dusty Springfield version of Spooky, and one on Donna Summer's On the Radio.

The third assignment I had was to play the string part on this jam. The bride played bass. Epic.

The flowers arrangements were insane. We had tacos, and doughnuts for dessert. 

The best part about this party was the chance to see so many people that we used to be around during the first three or four years of YRR. All of the sudden ten years have gone by, and we're all so much older. 

Anyway, once the DJ started, people began to sneak out. We gave Bencuya a ride home.