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Yesteryear

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

April 17, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 17, 2017, now uberjet?
Five years ago today: April 17, 2013, downtown Macon.
Nine years ago today: April 17, 2009, a splashmeter? Yep.
Random years ago today: April 17, 2008, Empress of Hollywood.

           There I was at the thrift, looking for a mailbox. The high winds in this area mean you’ll need a sturdy brand that stays closed. And I found this darling ruler for 10¢. I call it, guess, my bible ruler. Sorry for the terrible scan, but MicroSoft in their infinite wisdom will not let Paint select a section larger than one screen wide. Failure is not an option—it comes bundled with Windows 10. A nice little ruler on one side and a list of the testaments on the back. What could be handier?


           Aw, it reminds me of when I was “allowed” to stay in school past ninth grade. The only school that would take me was the Catholics. Sure they tried to convert me, it’s what they do, but I’ll never be a Catholic and certainly not a good one. But I do admire all that ceremony.

           The club finally swayed me to the premise that any business is better than no business. I released the funds to buy the hot dog cart, we’ll know probably later today if the guy accepts my offer of $900. And just like that, we could find ourselves in the food vending business. There were some conditions attached but nothing that isn’t directly reasonable under the circumstances. The bottom line is that it is really my money, since nobody out there has any. Economic recovery, my eye.
           My biggest misgiving remains the fact that it is not a one-man operation. Yet, I don’t seem to have any such qualms about the music duo. It’s probably over the fact that I know the music business and the unlikelihood of anyone trying to cheat me over it. But hot dogs? The unit gets towed to my back yard and stored under a tarp until we figure out how to operate the thing. All this depends on my offer since he’s the guy [whom I told you] wants $1,200. My major stipulation is the crew (interviews start tomorrow), and we don’t need any workers, only manager-operators, must devise between them some way to make the unit secure when parked. That is, is must require a major effort to steal it as opposed to just pulling up with a bumper hitch and a large nail.

           Nor can this be allowed to detract from the band. Music is a guaranteed money-maker and great social life for me. It eclipses everything else, and when I say social life, you can’t imagine the benefits. Mind you, don’t get the impression you can just go join a band and it’s all gravy. With me, it was more like the band gradually replaced all other functions until by the time I was in my early thirties, I no longer cared to go out and bother with the usual hassles of finding women. What, you want details? Well, I’ll try a bit. But it’s a situation where I’m on the inside looking out.
           For openers, by the token that men go out to meet women, the women go to the same places to get met. Psychologically, that is a huge difference, as in hunter and prey, which I quickly figured out was the opposite of appearances. What music did for me was weed out the women who were husband-hunting. That’s not the fun part of all this, where the guy is out for a good time and the woman is out for a commitment that extends far beyond what he’s bargaining toward. What I do is put the women in the position where they know they can’t just sit there looking pretty and wait for me to make all the moves. And mistakes. Those ones are usually still sitting there when I leave.

           You can imagine it doesn’t take very long before you adapt to music as a combination dating club, party connection, icebreaker, and the ultimate competition tool. I grew up in an environment where it seemed (and later turned out to be mostly true) that everybody except me had something. There was never any option for me to stand still and have anything, but careful not to interpret that to mean that was some form of motivation. It was a massive disincentive at best.
           I doubt there is anybody who goes into performing that doesn’t have some hopes of it as a vehicle to meet that right person, though I know of many who deny it. But they don’t fool me, as from what I see, they are duds to start with and in that case not even music is going to help them, so they are saying sour grapes. I happen to like applause. And I like walking into a room where everybody thinks they know me, where the women jump on me, and people give me money for doing what I like to do. I’ve aspired for years to find a guitar player who admitted the same so we could get on with the task of hitting the big time. And that brings me to the conversation about the current band. Read on.

Picture of the day.
Redhead.
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           My guitarist knows what is going on. She has independently drawn the same conclusions about her stage performance, and I understand how things can just go blank on stage. I’ve encouraged her to unplug her amp during breaks and strum along with audience people who want to sing tunes the band doesn’t do. I can see now that she has played in bands before, but nothing on the scale of what we are doing. She was one member of a larger group, four members or more. In that setting, you can get away with less. But the premise of this band is she is right out there where her input is directly proportional to how well the band does. And she knows she is on to something she would not want to lose. That standing ovation on Sunday had a stunning effect. I’m used to it while her expression was that she never “in a million years” thought it could happen to her.
           She knows she is falling behind and that it may get worse. I want to press on and the further that goes, the less time there will be for her to work on the existing set. All of this has been gone over in our early planning stages, so none of it is a surprise. You want the limelight? Then you must put in the time whether it was years ago or in conjunction with your goals of today. Sorry, no shortcuts. I explained in the first few rehearsals everything that was going to happen if she followed my instructions. But I thought, being a guitarist and music teacher with band experience, she would easily pick up this simple material and run with it. Hmmm, so did she.
           This photo is my so-called four channel mixer. It’s two channels and the power supply weighs more than the unit. Problem. I deduce it got damp over time and the volume knobs crackle. This has to be fixed or replaced. I’ve got the wireless mics out of storage and I’m going to have a stab at letting the audience sing, bingo-style. All this may seem tacky to the outsider and so it did to me until I tried it. This is a popular show and is thus geared toward the instinctual over the intellectual. A lot of people enjoy getting dumb and I’m here to help.

           I’ve watched her work with the audience and how odd that she can play her own tunes so well, but not ours. There is another difference. When she plays her old music, she is playing the “guitar part”. With our music, she is playing a simpler but less intuitive part and the instant she gets on stage, poof. So what’s going on? I’ve said for years I can make any guitar player sound better than they are. Here’s your confirmation. Question: why don’t I just run with that? Answer: because it isn’t easy. I’m no different than other musicians, I want to get on stage and do the best I can. This can’t happen when half my energy is spent bolstering the rest of the band. Worse, they can’t normally spot that is what’s happening and they think they are doing great. (That’s not the case here, she knows. I meant with most bands.) And the audience doesn’t care as long as the band doesn’t suck. It is a thankless task. She is aware of it, but not really to what extent.
           This creates the old quandary. Do I carry on, essentially soloing with a backup that doesn’t quite make the grade, or do I perform suboptimally for the sake of the band? She has assured me she will put in the time. And the sound of the band in this condition is still better than the competition, though by now we have a semi-trained audience. This is quite far from the ideal we could be. As before, a band is a lengthy series of small decisions, and for now I say she has nine hours stage time. These said decisions often overlap and the overriding verdict is the 100 hours of stage time to review. I count only actual stage time, not setup or travel. Non-stage effort don’t count for a twit. I’m in this game to win.
That’s your progress report.

ADDENDUM
           The mentioned 100 hours of stage time should happen, at the present rate of progress, by late October if I play through the summer. I don’t usually do that. We’ve discussed playing a second day at the same club, but I’m open to playing just about anywhere. Except VFWs where the fixed clientele is a little too fixed, and I can be a stickler about playing those joints for tips only. Our three hour gigs means 30 more sessions. I’m hoping if we get four hours twice a week that will improve.
           Ah, I heard someone allude to my earlier comments of a three hour gig being my norm. Yes, when playing for money. Tips are different. It is not pretty obvious the songs we play are the right mix for our crowd and the longer we play, the more they keep tipping. That’s why I keep pushing to learn new songs all the time. Right now, the three hours material we have flies by and we would both keep on playing if we had more material. The tunes being polished up this week (including some from last week) are:

            Move It On Over *Hank Williams version with Thorogood’s bass line, transposed to A.
            Pirate Looks At 40 *we’ve been stalling on this one, now she must learn it or I solo.
            What’s A Guy Gotta Do *this is a break song, we need four more.
            Wasted Days Wasted Nights *OMG, a slow song. If you knew Freddy Fender, you’d understand.
            Last Train to Clarksville *this was a total surprise.
            Blame It On Your Heart *the Patty Loveless song.
            Attitude Adjustment *Hank Jr., the closest thing I’ll ever play to jazz.
            Stripes *the Brandy Clark tune, not the Johnny Cash Stripes across my shoulder.

           Why is the Last Train song classified as a surprise. Well, go give a listen to it. It’s like four and five part harmonies with extra orchestration. The music has three distinct motifs and they are musically unrelated. Stumped? They are those syncopated bass and drum riffs after the third verse. Yes, this is the first song I really, really learned on the bass, but never thought it could be produced as a duo arrangement—and it isn’t yet. But one rehearsal a few weeks ago, I broke into playing that distinctive bass line and we noticed we had learned a strum that fit.
           So I sat down and picked out what I thought was the best melody line from all the harmonies. So far, that part of it works. I can’t hit the high notes at the end, but you and the audience would quickly distinguish this as a clearly countrified version of a familiar song, and a damn good one at that, unexpected and charming. However, this needs hours more work to get that effect. I would not slough through that song, tempting as it is.

Last Laugh