I have a photo of the Viking lass herself, in her “did you just cut one” pose. It is princess Victoria of Sweden. (Now, who does she remind us of, those who know me? Except, mine was a redhead.) If 191 certain people die, abdicate, or screw up enough, this lady becomes Queen of England. That so few stood in my path to glory! She is little but more proof that the guy who gets there first is the only one who counts. Primogeniture aside, while I was in college, I had some thirty women better looking than this broad. She is pushing 32 this year.
Arnel called and we had a major conference over music. Again we collaborate on everything from equipment requirements right down to file types and software purchases. Last night was a mini-disaster in terms of the sound quality, choice of music, and stage presentation. I actually got on my bike and left because I didn’t want to get called up on stage. The best and newest equipment was available but it was set up wrong. Everything was distorted and the performance came across as if nobody noticed. It was a sad amateur effort that must not be repeated. This also drew close attention to an unpleasant side-effect. Musically, we are a group of newcomers beside a group of Florida old-timers. I don’t know what causes it, but none of us just got out of jail or got our equipment out of the pawn shop. Nor do we view our music as some sort of paid hobby. Some of us can go more than five minutes without repeating ourselves, which let me tell you is a serious problem for the born-heres.
Time to drag Jim off to one side and tell him the rules, the first of which is you never form partnerships unless the other person can do the things you can’t possibly do for yourself. And that includes anything you could learn. Listening to two guitarists has not been a fun thing since 1975. Here are Arnel and Jim on stage before the show.
Wait, there’s more. When I left y’day, I went to Jimbo’s to move my equipment for the Thursday Karaoke show. They were playing to an empty house. Whether it is the economy or the material, the club cannot sustain a loss for long. It could even be the Fair drawing people downtown, since it is the only family-oriented thing left anywhere in this territory. Things are slow, and this was the first time the owner contacted me to confirm I’d be there.I pulled in around 15 people, not enough for my new “critical mass”. That is, the number of people I need to get a good group singing, which is the real focus of my new act. Arnel came by to remind me that DGB has a few open week nights. I’d love that gig, but I’m finding the new equipment (the computer) has different operating parameters than the disk player, often choosing too much bass or treble. There is no easy way to adjust the tone for each piece, certainly not while on stage.
My conclusion is that I need more time with the new arrangement; time to polish the rough edges. I remember when computers came with a built-in equalizer. This change in my music line-up is too important to barge in anywhere. There are also different audience problems to deal with, the biggest is predictably, the jerk who does not understand it isn’t Karaoke. That means I cannot play every song in the universe no matter how many times you ask me.
Also, there is more of a tendency for people to saunter over and talk to me while I’m playing. Is this good or bad? Or the bozos who walk up while you’re playing and ask if you know any so-and-so. I will wager those who do this are failed guitar players. Not always, but that’s why it is just a wager. What decent musician sits around memorizing lists of everything his personal idol ever threw in the garbage can? Guitarists must be the last major source of cult followers in America, and followers is all they will ever be. They are right up there with those jerks who make the MacDonald’s cashier tell them what there is to eat.
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