Saturday, July 18, 2009
Let's Make Some Music!
So, the last kid is a teen. The others were too, but this is the last one. You really know he's a teen when you get informed that his band (which you didn't know about ) is playing tonight and he needs the car to get there....
It wasn't quite that bad. I did know about it, and he'd been practicing all week at Louis' house , but it was while I ws at work so he had to cadge rides. And I was hurryingback from my meeting so he would have the car which I knew he needed to get to his final practice and the "gig". Whoa. Isn't a gig a type of buggy?
And when WE get there, we're the only people over 25 in the whole place. We didn't really need our tickets to come and go, or out hands stamped. We were somewhat noticable - the only people in Moxie's Pop Shop who DIDN'T stick out like sore thumbs stuck out like sore thumbs. If you catch my drift. Maybe a "gig" is a type of sailboat. Or a person of strange appearance.
We buy expensive one-of-a-kind sodapop, the kind of thing one's grandparents (read, siblings) would have purchased "back in the day", and wait. And wait. Because whoever was supposed to bring the mic hadn't done that. And no one knew who had it. But, yes, it's coming. And no we can't play without it, because 21st century lyrics are pretty important, Mom, not like in the 19th century (I think I must have slept for 100 years or something). And this is something Mom can't fix, because this is part of the growing up and figuring it out. So we wait some more. I think "gig" means "getting it going".
After about 15 minutes, the mic shows up. Then the sound check deafens us all. And members of the band and the audience have to be dragged in off the streets, where they've gone to "chill" in the 95 degree weather while someone else organized and plugged in and fixed and took care of. About 30 minutes past the appointed hour - which might well be pretty quick, I have no way to judge, the "gig" begins. Perhaps it's short for "good grief".
Three members of the band. A drummer, who is pretty loud, in fact, extremely loud, we could have used earplugs. And a guitar, who is so loud I can't even hear him. This is a real phenomenon - when you are close to a volcano blowing up or an incredibly loud explosion, it's too much for the mind to fathom and so you just don't hear it. So, after a few seconds, I couldn't hear the guitar. I could hear the bass, which is good, because that's what Soren played, and he did a pretty good job, too. And those vocals - the lyrics for which we waited and waited - well, they might have been important, but sometimes the most important things are the hardest ones to find. This was one of those cases. They played three songs. Maybe 10 minutes? But it took 45 to get it all accomplished.
So, that was Soren's first gig. I'm still not sure what it should stand for. But I was Greatly Impressed that he's so Grown up.
So, the last kid is a teen. The others were too, but this is the last one. You really know he's a teen when you get informed that his band (which you didn't know about ) is playing tonight and he needs the car to get there....
It wasn't quite that bad. I did know about it, and he'd been practicing all week at Louis' house , but it was while I ws at work so he had to cadge rides. And I was hurryingback from my meeting so he would have the car which I knew he needed to get to his final practice and the "gig". Whoa. Isn't a gig a type of buggy?
And when WE get there, we're the only people over 25 in the whole place. We didn't really need our tickets to come and go, or out hands stamped. We were somewhat noticable - the only people in Moxie's Pop Shop who DIDN'T stick out like sore thumbs stuck out like sore thumbs. If you catch my drift. Maybe a "gig" is a type of sailboat. Or a person of strange appearance.
We buy expensive one-of-a-kind sodapop, the kind of thing one's grandparents (read, siblings) would have purchased "back in the day", and wait. And wait. Because whoever was supposed to bring the mic hadn't done that. And no one knew who had it. But, yes, it's coming. And no we can't play without it, because 21st century lyrics are pretty important, Mom, not like in the 19th century (I think I must have slept for 100 years or something). And this is something Mom can't fix, because this is part of the growing up and figuring it out. So we wait some more. I think "gig" means "getting it going".
After about 15 minutes, the mic shows up. Then the sound check deafens us all. And members of the band and the audience have to be dragged in off the streets, where they've gone to "chill" in the 95 degree weather while someone else organized and plugged in and fixed and took care of. About 30 minutes past the appointed hour - which might well be pretty quick, I have no way to judge, the "gig" begins. Perhaps it's short for "good grief".
Three members of the band. A drummer, who is pretty loud, in fact, extremely loud, we could have used earplugs. And a guitar, who is so loud I can't even hear him. This is a real phenomenon - when you are close to a volcano blowing up or an incredibly loud explosion, it's too much for the mind to fathom and so you just don't hear it. So, after a few seconds, I couldn't hear the guitar. I could hear the bass, which is good, because that's what Soren played, and he did a pretty good job, too. And those vocals - the lyrics for which we waited and waited - well, they might have been important, but sometimes the most important things are the hardest ones to find. This was one of those cases. They played three songs. Maybe 10 minutes? But it took 45 to get it all accomplished.
So, that was Soren's first gig. I'm still not sure what it should stand for. But I was Greatly Impressed that he's so Grown up.
