A young child wore a shirt with a record player on it just a few weeks ago-- probably dug out of an attic or found at a garage sale-- and I asked him what he thought it was. "A DVD," he said, without hesitation.
Well reader, I hope you will forgive me a few rather more blase blogs as I build up the habit of writing in one. My journal is typically the place I turn to and, yes, handwrite my thoughts. Here-- what I intend to incorporate are stories, song lyrics, and observations about life which I find interesting. My hope is that you will too. I don't have anything catchy or gimmicky-- this blog is pretty much as low key as I can get. You may be interested in what happens backstage, or even onstage-- and some of the behind the scenes happenings as my music career does what it's supposed to do.
So I'll end this blog with a little *true* story.
Recently, I was assisting a friend with doing sound for a rally. The temperature was bitter cold (30's and a damn cold blustery wind), and we planned to stay in a vehicle, cleverly setting up the equipment so that the back door could close and it could still operate from within. The idea was that we would run the van, stay warm and toasty, and let the ralliers shiver and freeze in the cold as much as they wanted. They had our love and support, but the freezing was up to them. We set up the sound, running cords and cables through bushes, into the grass, around a gazebo-- and after a good hour of set-up and shivering, we hustled into the van and closed the doors, ready to work for a couple of hours. Turned the ignition in the key and... nothing! The battery, drained by leaving the key in the ignition with the radio on-- combined with the electrical charge of the equipment we were running-- drained it. Fail, on our part. So we used the van as a wind-guard, and literally shivered our way through the rally, playing music the participants could dance to so they stayed warm. Finally, only after the rally ended and we tore equipment down, were we able to get a jump from a rally participant. I suppose there's not really an ending to this story-- more a moral, than anything: Plan the van, and never trust the weather. The moral even rhymes. Thank you very much.
