Anyway...forty-five minutes of me rambling about piccolo, flute, clarinet, bass clarinet, four saxophones, and the EWI. Interesting moments such as...
Me: "Who knows why flutes have holes in the keys."
Second graders respond with lots of random answers.
Me: "It's trick question. I have no idea why there are holes."
or
Me: "All of these instruments use the same basic fingering system as the recorder." I then picked up a plastic recorder off the table behind me and played a few random notes.
Fifth grader: "Those are the lost and found recorders!"
Me: "It's ok. I've put my mouth on lots of worse stuff."
I got home, swapped gear, practiced a few songs for the evening's gig, and headed down to Atlantic Station for a Yacht Rock gig.
Load in and soundcheck was 2:30-4:30, and then we didn't begin our part of the show until 9:30, so a couple of us wandered off in search of food, ending up at that Mexican restaurant in the middle of Atlantic Station. After that, some of us went shopping at The Gap. I was really tired and really bored.
 |
| "My underwear situation is pretty bleak." |
Following this great adventure, I took a forty-five nap in the back seat of my truck. It was warmer and drier than our tent-in-the-parking-lot green room. I guess I should have brought my garment bag with me, because when I went to the tent to change, my bag (and the clothes inside) were wet from being on the ground for a few hours.
The gig in the big tent was kind of what we've come to expect from a run-of-the-mill private event...a handful of people who are really into us, and then a majority of people who don't care who in the hell is on stage right now. We entertained ourselves and stared out at the expensive women on the dance floor.
The highlight of the night was the massive fart I laid at the beginning of the second set. It gently wafted across the stage like a cloud of mustard gas and nearly killed two women in front of Bencuya. Potent shit.
Kevin Spencer filled in for Nick. Hans ran sound and picked up the pieces after Monkey had a small temper tantrum. At the end of the night, some lady walked off with Cobb's sunglasses.
Saturday: I filled in for Bryan Lopes on a wedding gig with Rupert's, a gig I hadn't done in probably about six years. Very weird to be back on that scene. I did the best I could at reading charts and remembering parts. Also, I felt like I looked cool, which hopefully made up for any deficiencies in my playing.
Right off the bat, I knew things were going to feel weird all night. The sidestep with the first step to the right. Yacht rock steps to the left. Going to the right feels like clapping on one and three.
Playing in someone else's band is like moving in with your aunt and uncle when you only see them once every other year.
It sure was cool to walk out the front door, check in hand and horn on my shoulder, five minutes after the gig ended. It seems like I never get to do that anymore.
Sunday: I did my AM church gig again, just like last week. Still super fun, mostly because me and the leader have a great time playing together.
I did really well except for one song: I had a chart in the wrong key (F instead of D), and I couldn't get my brain to shift from playing a whole step up (on soprano) to playing a half step down. Ugh!
My PM church gig was better for me than it has been in weeks. I played only flute, which allowed me to better hear the piano. Everything sounded pretty good until the main speakers nearest to us died. Nobody else seemed to notice.
