Now that we are pretty much settled and
on routine, we again are understanding what Opening Act means.
No, I'm not going to start complaining; I am full aware of the
blessing and abundance in which I stand.
That said...
Why dey still treats culud folk so po'? (relatively speaking of
course)
Realizing that we are here for two
months, it's reasonable to allow that the producers of this venture
would
endeavor to house and to feed us, let's say... frugally. Then I begin
to see the obscene opulence around us and wonder...
Can I get a room with a damn bathtub or a friggin boiled egg for
breakfast?
The way I figure it, what The Sporting Club raked in just from ticket
sales to Celine Dion's second night
paid for our entire band's two month contract sixty times over! Yes,
I did the math.
(please now read the 1966 Reader's Digest article entitled, "Why Negroes Riot")
OK, enough of that; now, to the report:
The Motown Revue-
Think back to the time of blue lights in the basement, wall to wall
soul, Gypsy Rose wine and no air conditioning...
Well, them days is over!
While the Motown Revue ensemble did invoke memories of our own
adolescence, the paradigm, understandably, has changed.
Most of this new crop of, "soul singers", haven't yet reached thirty!
Even as they've done some homework,
have been prepped well by their senior advisors and have performed
laudably - I'll put it this way:
Have you ever gone to a museum and viewed a diorama of a stone age
family in their primitive surroundings?
HEY, THEY'RE NOT REAL CAVE PEOPLE!!!
We, nevertheless, became friends with our L.A. proteges and even hung
out the next day, telling them good ol' days stories.
Latin America Night-
One of four soiree events that we will encounter this season, we
actually concluded the evening with our performance,
rather than having opened for a celebrity act. Unfortunately for us,
the Latin gala went an hour overtime, forcing us to
begin our dance segment soon after midnight. Additionally, we made
the mistake of coloring our performance with clave and montuno,
giving rise to raucous ovation and numerous Latin requests. Thank
goodness I'm an honorary Cuban, my recollections of Orchestra
Broadway,
Joe Cuba, The Courso, Larry Harlow, Symphony Sid and THE BOAT RIDE
served us well into the wee hours of that full moon morning.
We certainly learned our lesson: When you speak the language, you
gotta stay for breakfast!
Katie Melua-
Something of an unknown in the States, this young lady has amassed a
formidable following in Europe, singing Euro-folksy renditions in
both
English and French, and featuring an eclectic, acoustic backing band,
fronted by a fiddler.
(I don't use that term disparagingly; I consider a fiddler a
stylist/violinist detached from a traditional string section)
An acoustic guitarist herself, Katie brings to mind one of those
interesting performers whose act concludes one of the late night talk
shows
and wakes you up before you go to bed.
AIG Gala-
Lord have us mercy; the inmates have taken over the asylum! In the
second soiree of the season, we once again provided dance music
for the after-party. This amalgamation of the super rich reminded me
of an upper class Star Wars Bar Scene. With AIG senior officers
representing every earthly nationality (I do believe that they all
were human) these folks danced on everything but the beat.
We cheerfully went with the flow until one of the revelers actually
mounted the stage with a handwritten request for (gulp) Y.M.C.A.
The request went unheeded and the requester went
missing.
Jusqu'a la prochaine fois!
Fino alla prossima volta!