Cowboy Mike came into the shop to get some on-line forms filled out. He’s entered a songwriters contest held on Amelia Island. I couldn’t place it until I remembered I had transcribed some song lyrics about the place a year ago. Wallace says it is up near Jacksonville. It turns out Mike has a MIDI machine that he says I can use for free. Now stay with me here. I know exactly what MIDI is and so do all the salespeople trying to get me to buy it. What I don’t know is how to hook up the wires, press the buttons and make the thing play music. It must be easy, but why isn’t there anyone around who can show me? Why do they all clam up and head for the hills when I ask about that part?Enter Arnel, who showed up at my gig last evening. A successful gig, I might add. He took in the better part of an hour and it turns out he has experience as a sound technician. My heavily equalized recordings must sound pretty primitive to his fancy MIDI backing tracks. Arnel volunteered to help me set up a much better sounding system using what I’ve already got, saying all I need is a decent computer. On the spot I told him I would put all other projects on infinite hold until I master this technology.
We toured up to Boston’s during the break and I tell you, Arnel is a man in demand. If I was him (he looks like he could be anywhere between 28 to 32), I would not be playing in an old folk’s home like Boston’s. It is full of divorcees and middle-aged housewives, but then again, I don’t know his motivation. I would find the nearest club full of babes and get myself a permanent house gig, for sure.
Who remembers the Rod Stewart imitator from the shop a year ago? His group was playing. He didn’t recognize me until I jogged his memory, so much for my following. They have a four or five piece group but honestly, except for his vocals, the sound was around as muddy as my mono backing tracks. I don’t care for keyboards in a rock band since they tend to play a louder mix than the studio versions that made the music a hit. Same thing here, the keyboards were a little too dominating.
It was a small but happy crowd at Jimbo’s, a lot of the regulars are not around in the summertime. I am finally obeying my rule about not playing the same place every week as a single. The regulars and staff get to know your song list by heart, even if there are over 100 tunes. But a regular break by playing every other week brings out the tips and keeps everyone happy. Plus, that gives me extra time to devote to the MIDI project or to reconsider finding a guitarist. Arnel says if he finds a babe who plays I’m dreaming to think he won’t keep her for himself.
We got Wallace looking for something for us to do tomorrow after work (2:00 P.M.). This was an unsuccessful search. We even tried the newspaper to no avail. I can be got out of the house on a Saturday but only to a play or a seminar, I’ve even taken line-dancing lessons. Like the women who show up, I’m looking for a date, not to get Terpischorean. It would seem that the depression has taken everything down to zero in the area and we are not driving up to Ft. Lauderdale. Out West I took everything from sailing lessons to calligraphy after hours. Here, they couldn’t round up five interesting people for a weenie roast.
I should call Peggy and mention Cowboy Mike, the 15th bachelor. PS, did you know Mike was an excellent cook? He was indifferent on the idea until I explained the idea was to get the story behind the recipe. That cookbook is on the way, mark my words.
