Being at the airport with the required time to spare for a 6:00 am flight sure is fun! Well, it may not have been fun, but it was worth it. What a beautiful week we had in CA. The weather rarely varied from sunny and 60s--only raining one morning in San Diego.
The first full day at NAMM was spent at a couple of classes and then going from booth to booth--purposefully but rather leisurely by comparison to the last two days. It was during the first day of looking at so many beautiful guitars and hearing Joe play them or the demo-ing musician playing them that made me decide that I want to put a little more effort than I have been into learning to play the lovely guitar that sits up in my room. I'd love to be able to pick up one of those guitars next year and actually play it.
So far since we've been back, that guitar has come out of its case once, and it got disgusted with me for forgetting the two chords that Joe taught me last year. It went back into its case. "I promise, I'll let you out again, and I'll be better." That's what I said, but it ignored me.
I digress. Anyway, on the second day I planned to get to the Kahler booth to see Victor Wooten who was scheduled to play at 2:00. I got there by 1:15. I was 5th in line right up at the counter. The crowd started to thicken. Victor arrived and got set up. The crowd became a problem, apparently, because right after Victor said hello to us and started talking about his bass and about playing (he was really personable) and played one--just one--tune, the Arena Police dispersed us. All of us. Even those of us who were 5th in line and leaning on the counter out of the way of the aisle. Dispersed!
So we all lurked like crows that have been scattered from their roadkill by a passing car. Looking, lurking, loitering . . . when finally the Arena Police were able to put us in an acceptable line for Victor to sign pictures. No more tunes. I went from Number 5, though, to Number I Don't Know What. I was sure I was never going to get up there, the Arena Police were keeping a tight rein on things and the threat of dispersement (I know that's not a real word) was ever-present. I got up there, Victor was great. He signed a picture for my son and the guy behind me took our picture with my camera. That picture and a few others are posted on my Facebook. Those of you with a Facebook account can see them there. The rest of you will have to wait until Uncle Wally shows me how to post photos here.
That was my excitement for Friday during the day. Also, we stood in a long--and long doesn't begin to describe it--line waiting to get into a show in which the headliner was John Mayer. I was very excited. Joe was more excited about another player, Phil Keaggy. We had been running all day at the show. We were tired. Our feet were past tired. We stood and got more and more aggravated at the "line-budgers" that were everywhere. There were no "Arena Police" here, and no one was keeping any order at all. So the line that was long to begin with just kept getting longer because of all the "special" people who felt too important to wait. Eventually, we got seats in the last row. The first act sucked. The second sucked so much that we left after one song. John Mayer wasn't scheduled to come on for a few hours, and we were too tired, hungry, and aggravated to wait. Sorry, John.
Saturday, Joe was on his own at the show as I spent the day with my childhood best friend, Maryann who lives in close proximity to Anaheim. She took me shopping and out to lunch and then to Huntington beach where we walked the pier and watched the surfers, swimmers, and volleyball players. It was a beautiful day.
That night, Joe and I stood in a long line with more line-budgers waiting for the Muriel Anderson All-Star Guitar review. We got in and were so far back that until I got home and looked him up, I had no idea that Andreas Oberg (one of the amazing jazz players we heard and I would jump at the chance to hear again) was so awesomely gorgeous! Check out his website, holy cow! Monte Montgomery played again this year and Joe was as impressed as last year. In fact, he said something like, "I'm going to go home and burn my guitar." In addition, Laurence Juber (formerly of Paul McCartney and Wings) played a beautiful version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Joe bought me his CD and had him sign it for me. Thank you, Joe.
So, I have to have a little rant (of course) because people are so freakin' RUDE! You know how I feel about the Talkers, and there were plenty of those, but the guy behind me took the cake. We called him "Flashlight/Baggie/Cell Phone Guy" and for good reason. To begin with, though the aud was darkened, it was most definitely not too dark to see. For some reason, he felt the need to shine a flashlight to illuminate the way for anyone going into his row or ours or down the aisle. Wasn't that nice of him? No, not really because every time I caught that flash of light in my peripheral vision, it was completely distracting. Beyond that, the man had a bazillion baggies (I think empty) in his briefcase that he kept taking out and reorganizing. That many baggies being ruffled and wrinkled actually make a lot of noise. I was becoming really annoyed and shot him a few "looks" but they went unnoticed. One time, he had the flashlight on, in his mouth, shining onto his briefcase of baggies which he was rifling through, and I turned around to give him yet another "look" and he looked up and shined the light right in my face. ANGRY. By the time he had the long and loud cell phone conversation with someone (while the performances were going on, mind you) about how great the show was--how did he even know, I wondered--Joe was grabbing my hand tight. I think he was afraid I might deck the guy. Though I wouldn't have done that, I did have many choice words floating around my mouth ready to be spewed on this guy, but that wouldn't have been very ladylike, and it might have embarrassed Joe or caused him to have to pound the guy, so I just kept my mouth shut. Though he didn't completely ruin the show for us, I can tell you that we will never forget Flashlight/Baggie/Cell Phone Guy.
Sunday we drove to San Diego, prowled around Balboa Park, had dinner at a place called The Hob Nob Hill Restaurant and had some well-deserved down time at our beautiful B&B. Monday we toured the USS Midway which was really cool and then walked through Old Town with all the Mexican stores, restaurants, art galleries and a beautiful church. We had a fabulous dinner in Little Italy at Buon Apetito. Tuesday found us on a pedi-cab ride along the harborfront and poking through some galleries and stores, then down to the Gaslamp Quarter where we parked in the Vegetable Garage and walked around. We planned on dinner there and music at Croce's that night, but after walking all the way to the Hillcrest Neighborhood for amazing desserts at Extraordinary Desserts (I had THE best coconut cake ever), we just ran out of steam. Knowing that we had to get up before dawn to make the ride back to Long Beach airport to leave the next day, clinched it. Dinner was at Avenue 5--tres chic--and that was about the end of our vacation.
Hope you enjoyed my little vacation epic. So, now that I've wrapped up California, perhaps tomorrow I'll be able to talk about the music scene in Rochester LAST weekend (before THIS weekend happens).
Don't forget Jim Allen's opening tomorrow night at A&CCGR!
yours in music,
Tracy
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