This year, we lucked into a 10 AM flight, so the wakeup wasn't quite so painful. Also, this dude's feet were no longer sweaty by the time we boarded. On the one hand, I'm kinda like, "It's your feet, and I don't care", 'cause I don't have a weird phobia about other people's feet. On the other hand, people were weaving around his bare feet like he had ten little cobras for toes, and I would think that you might at least not hang 'em out there in the aisle.
On with the show...flew from Atlanta to Albuquerque (slept for about half of that). Crash landed (at least, it felt like it, and a couple of people sort of screamed when we slammed into the ground, bounced up, and then touched down). The crash woke me up. We ate lunch at the airport (I had an outstanding veggie sandwich).
From there, we collected our suitcases and my gear, hopped in a limo van, and rode the hour and fifteen minutes to Santa Fe, arriving just as the local crew was preparing the stage. After a couple of hours of setting up gear (at least the card reader on the top keyboard worked), we headed into town to kill a few hours.
Back to the gig to change clothes and brush teeth.
The weather was chilly when we set up, but the sun came out in the afternoon and warmed everything up to the mid 70s--perfect. Unfortunately, the sun went down and the temperature dropped to the high 50s. My hands were too stiff to play anything cool--it's kind of like eating without teeth (I'm guessing). The cold caught a couple of our guys off guard. I knew about it, but it didn't save me. Maybe I should add a space heater to the rental gear.
Overall, the gig was fine. It was a birthday party, but it felt like a corporate gig. We played to a small, well behaved crowd that didn't offer much of a reaction to any particular song (lots of quiet between songs). It was easy and painless, but nothing too memorable (other than being cold).
The encore ended around 10:20, and by 10:40, we were in the van headed back to Albuquerque (and our hotel). We checked in around midnight. I took a shower, read my book, rolled over, and it was 4:40--time to get up.
5 AM lobby call. Ouch. I slept the entire flight home. One of my best efforts.
For some reason, I'd agreed to play a church gig this Sunday evening. As a change of pace to what I've been doing, it actually wasn't bad. I played flute for the whole thing, and a woman in the congregation came up afterwards to tell me how much she enjoyed it. "Do you play in one of the symphonies around here?" "Uh, no. I play in a band called the Yacht Rock Revue." She'd never heard of it. Ok!
