Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Thankful Without the Bang
My Independence Day gig will be memorable for various oddities. Punta Gorda, Florida is the landfall of Hurricane Charlie two years ago. It's about 30 miles south of Venice, where I live. So the damaging part of that storm missed us by 15 miles. My song Jacob's Hurricane, was written while watching the storm tear up that area on the Weather Channel. They've recovered for the most part and the waterfront area is booming. Harpoon Harry's is a fun and diverse restaurant, on the end of their Fisherman's Village wharf. It sticks out into Charlotte Harbor. They threw a big bash for the Fourth. Contests and giveaways galore, a live band inside and me outside on the "Pirate Ship." The gig was 1 to 4 but I knew I'd have a set-up nightmare so I arrived almost two hours early. As it turned out I could have used another thirty minutes.
You can't park near the place unless you drive a motor cycle or have disabled plates. I unloaded in front of the motorcycles and tried to figure out how to move the bikes ever so little without dropping them. I needed to put some speaker stands there. Not knowing the protocol, I very tentatively moved a couple forward. Later I would have to ask a few bikers to take their beer off my speakers. So much for protocol. Then I hauled all my equipment up two flights of stairs to the pirate ship. I had a lot of extra equipment so I could drive the big speakers and still have my Bose system up on the "poop deck." I had to make a lot of noise to attract people into my end of the pier. So I also brought a drum machine. All of this required an extra mixer and an extra PA Amp. Most of this stuff would have to stay out of my reach as I had to play on the bow.
I'm not afraid of heights. I do have a healthy respect for handling electronics in the rain and, of course, lightning. So there was no safety railing as promised and I was okay with that, I'm not afraid of falling. Summer in Florida means that there is always lightning someplace late in the afternoon. So you could say I was concerned about being hit by lightning AND falling. Splatting like a broiled sausage on the pavement below. Bikers driving over me to get out of the rain. I arranged my equipment so that I could pull a tarp over most of it if it rained. The part I was closest to, however, was four feet above this. So my Taylor and I, my mic, drum machine, music stand and my vocal processor would be in peril in a sudden downpour, another typical Florida event. There may be lots of sunshine but "partly cloudy" means one of those dark ones can open up and blow in your direction. So I was a half hour from show time and hadn't yet thought of music. That's when I discovered the electrical outlets were not working up my way.The scene inside the restaurant, a floor below me, was chaotic . The harbor area was chaotic with races and other activities I couldn't figure out. Some naked guys swam by at one point. A boater was swimming back to his boat with a case of beer suspended over his head. Hundreds of boats were jockeying for position to see the fireworks in about, oh, nine hours. And they were already smashed. People were crowding my area for a good view of the harbor. Loitering on the stairs as I tried to repeatedly find the manager to beg for power. An hour later, they gave up on conventional methods, like finding a circuit breaker, and ran me a very long extension chord from who knows where. Some other municipality as far as I know. Just another conductor of lightning energy should the conditions arise. I started a half hour late with no sound check.
From all indications, I was good. People were giving me the thumbs up all day and taking my picture. At one point a guy named Dean from the inside band, Slick Willy, came up and told me I was drowning them out. I was very apologetic before I realized he was just messing with me. We had a good laugh. He was a very funny guy. I decided right way he was a drummer. I was right, of course. Drummers usually make themselves obvious to me. I mean that in a good way. My daughter married a drummer.
The wind picked up considerably as I was packing up my equipment. I covered everything with tarps. and grabbed my guitars and took off for the parking lot. I was very lucky to catch the shuttle that ran me to my car about a mile away. I loaded the stuff downstairs around a catering service that was already setting up my patio space for the next event. I tried mightily not to knock the Sterno and steam tables over in my haste to get the hell out of there before the storm. Not sure I was at fault for the crash I heard as I disappeared down the stairs. Crossing the harbor ten minutes later, I watched the rain back in the direction from which I just escaped.
I hadn't eaten since ten in the morning and realized that adrenaline is my favorite drug. And I can make it under the right conditions. The right conditions often looking like a large scale pain in the ass.
My week is still very busy but not of the adreniline producing kind of activity. I hope your holiday was fun and the week ahead is not too trying.
posted by Bud @ 6:57 AM
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