We can’t compete with Harry Potter. That’s a scary thing to think. A very scary thing to think. We’re in California talking up tomorrow’s Jozart Studio gig, and we’re getting a pretty consistant response of “wow, we really Love you guys, wow! Full band?!? Wow! Oh, it sucks that Harry Potter comes out tomorrow!” It’s getting a little frightening, and I’m frightened that Rowan and Sharif are going to drive all the way up here to a nothing-attendance show.
Of course, during my lament, a guy comes up and says “Just so you know, I WAS going to go home this weekend, and then I heard about your show.” There’s hope yet, I suppose, but I fear the day has come where we as Live musicians can’t compete with the opening night of a movie.
We’ve been pushing this show pretty hard – posters are up, flyers are out, there’s a good buzz, no-one seems to NOT know about the show – it’s just that somehow people seem to all have other commitments. It’s one thing when ONE person says “aww, I’ve got work”, but I know almost NO-ONE who’s said “oh yeah, gimme ticket!” The number of tickets sold as of now, 25 hours before the actual show, is an embarassing secret.
Last night we got into California after leaving shane behind under a grubby, grey Philadelphia sky. I almost felt bad for him under the oppressive clouds, the first spatters of rain coming down. As we drove out on I-76 I ended up gathering that pity for ourselves, though. A thunderstorm drove down on us out of nowhere, hammering a wall of rain into us out of the grey. The ominous line approached fast, and it was dismal as I downshifted and brought us down to 35mph, fingering the blinkers and the wipers in a pretty smooth movement.
It was a slow drive for about a half hour, and then the world opened and the sun began to set. Yesterday was the most heart-breakingly beautiful evening I’ve ever seen. The sun set slowly over the mountains of Western PA, with yellow light reflecting off the road and off the rain and off the sides of semis. Incredible canyons of clouds and the errant patch of blue and all of this with the black band of storm clouds retreating in the rear-view mirror. As if to finish the whole thing, to let me know I wasn’t ever going to see something this spectacular again, a rainbow belted the sky right in the middle. Almost the complete arc, and the thickest one I’ve ever seen. Heather says you could even see the violet.
Arriving in California, opening the doors, we started paying the price for that beauty almost immediately, billed in body heat, leached out of our bodies by sucking fingers of wind. It was FREEZING, made all the worse by the fact that it had been about 70 degrees in Philly. We came in and played the Jozart Studio’s open mic. As usual, the place is a tiny bit different and a tiny bit better. I like the fact that it’s eternally upwardly mobile… anywho, I’ve got to run. We’re going to go play the Underground Open mic, try to sell some tickets for tomorrow. I’ve got to write about Karaoke, a shooting star, a cold, cold night, and perhaps WCAL. ttfn.
