Concert Diaries Chapter 31 ~ So Much Magic

It's the end of the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour.  These bands outdid any previous performance I'd seen of them (and I've seen a lot).  I can't help but look back on the experiences of the last few months and relive some of the magic.

We (my PIC, Phyllis, and I) started calling October the magic month.  I often say I'm geographically blessed when it comes to concert attendance.  Northern New Jersey is less than an hour from New York, less than three hours from Philadelphia, five hours from Boston ... we can be anywhere in less than a day's drive.  Whomever booked the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour scheduled so many shows within easy driving ... and we went to them all including some bonus magic at the end.

Why would I attend so many concerts by the same artist?  It's hard to explain.  If you know, you know.  For me, it's because he changed my life and when I'm in the same room as he, whether he's the opening act or headlining, I'm the most fully alive that I think I've ever been.  I feel things again.  I'm clear about myself.  I feel strong and confident and profoundly happy and all the stress of my "real" life tumbles away--not just for the hour of the show, but for days and weeks at a time.

And no, the shows aren't all the same.  There are always surprises, on and off the stage.  Because of the magic.

Even though October held the most magic, our story began in August with the opening night of the "DeGrammer" tour, in Bethel, New York.  The site of the original Woodstock Festival proved to be the perfect place to start the magic.  I was captivated by the Woodstock museum on the property and could have spent the entire day there remembering the music of that time and wondering at the extensive influence the event had for years after the festival.  I was haunted in a romantic way by the ghosts of the space we were in since I'm old enough remember Woodstock and the history of the place was not lost on me.


Both Gavin (born nearby) and Andy (raised nearby) had lots of stories and memories to share (or overshare).  They had lots of family and friends in attendance and the night felt very special with those ghosts and memories filling the air.  The set lists of both artists were a fan's dream come true and Gavin's inclusion of a short acoustic interlude was a perfect surprise.



Our next show was in Shelbeyville, Delaware on the Maryland border.  We had a relaxing drive down while listening to dreadful weather reports which, unfortunately were accurate.  After spending the night in Ocean City, we learned the outdoor concert was cancelled due to Hurricane Hermine.  We drove out of the area in high winds and rain but soon found ourselves under magical blue skies, looking forward to October.  Even a cancelled show can be part of the adventure, the memories, the magic.

Gavin and Andy donuts from Broad
 Street Dough Co. in Oakhurst

Reading came next, the first of the magic October shows.  We started this adventure by driving a couple hours out of our way to pick up donuts for the band.  Specially made to order, they were rather outrageous confections that I doubted our health conscious guys would indulge in but it was fun to deliver them.  We arrived in town, starving, and headed to the only place we knew of near the theatre, Mezcal's Restaurant. We'd been there for drinks the last time Gavin played in Reading.  Much to our surprise, when the waitress led us to a table right beside where members of Gavin's and Andy's bands were sitting.  I teased them about being in "our" restaurant and we chatted for a bit before turning to our menus.  We wished them an awesome show as they left.  We had a meet and greet with Gavin that night.  We climbed to the top of the old theater with my arthritis protesting each stair.  It was as thrilling to meet him again as it was the first time.  We had a lot of fun delivering the overloaded donuts and explaining that they were named for him and Andy.  We took several pictures and I could have talked for an hour.   The Reading show was truly fantastic.  It was our first show with Wrabel who was opening most of the nights on this tour.  He was lovely, talented, authentic and his songs were poetry.  Both Andy's and Gavin's sets were as exciting as they had been opening night.

Right after Reading, Phyllis received the email.  The magic email telling her that she'd won a trip to Las Vegas to see Gavin DeGraw in concert complete with a VIP meeting.  Even more magic for me when she invited me to go with her.  There were lots of details to be ironed out, paperwork she needed to complete and it would be a few days before the trip would be really confirmed.  We began to make plans.  Plans on top of the plans we already had.

A few days after the magic of Reading and prize-winning emails,

Kelly Ripa & Carrie Ann Inaba
greeting Andy after his
performance.

we took a sunrise train to New York.  It was a full day of fun with our bands.  We'd had tickets to The Kelly Show, betting that either Gavin or Andy would make an appearance, finding out later it would be Andy Grammer and his band on the show that day.  Gavin was appearing on the show in a second taping to be aired the next day.  We had to be up near Columbus Circle at the ABC studios before 7:30.  That was the first hour+ spent in lines that day.  The show was fun and Andy's performance was indicative of all his live performances--high energy, infectious and authentic.  Once the cameras were off, the infamous producer, Michael Gellman, said there were seats available for the next show.  Of course we ran around the side of the building and got in line and were ushered into the studio again.  Unfortunately, Gavin cancelled at the last minute and did not appear.  We didn't know it at the time, but he wasn't feeling well.  We would learn more about that in the days ahead.

The concert that night at the Hammerstein Ballroom was exciting.  The sold-out crowd was a little pushy and we weren't in the front row (second row fabulous that night) but the kind front row nurses (they were all nurses) that we became friends with made room for this arthritic older fan and I leaned on the barricade for the last half of the show.  Gavin surprised the crowd by added another new song from the latest album to the setlist:  You Make My Heart Sing Louder.  He told us it was his mom's favorite and dedicated his performance of it to her.  Her love beamed back at him from where she stood in the balcony.  Lots of our old friends were in attendance that night and we became fast friends with new people as well.  As I've mentioned many times in this space, this is one of the magical benefits of following this singer--the friends I've made ... both in person and in social media.  The concert that night was another beautiful example of the excitement and energy the filled the stage every night of this tour.

Thanking service men & women.

Wrabel

The next day I was off to Boston to visit my daughter in her new apartment and to show my mom where her granddaughter lives and works.  Knowing she wouldn't have two days off in a row, I bought a ticket to see the Boston stop of the tour.  In the ancient Orpheum Theater I had my second meet and greet, met Andy's bass player Zach Rudolph and saw my fourth show of the tour.  I saw lots of friends scattered around the room.  The old theatre's rows were tight and the seats held together with duct tape in some cases.  I wondered about all the artists who'd appeared there over the years.  My fourth row seat was as close as first row in some theaters.  One magical moment occurred when Andy Grammer snuck onto the stage where opener Stephen Wrabel was laying his whole heart as he always does.  He actually admonished the audience to be quiet for Stephen's last song, a beautiful new ballad destined for his next record.  Andy said he wanted to be able to hear a pin drop.  Thank you Andy!  It's hard to understand how and why people talk through the openers.  There were quite a few enlisted men and women and veterans in the audience that night.  An amazing authentic moment of these shows has been Gavin's recognizing of these men and women and thanking them publicly for their service.

The day after the Boston getaway, Phyllis arrived for what we had thought would be the rest of the October shows ... Sayreville and Morristown in New Jersey and finally, Philadelphia.

High energy from the Andy Grammer crew.

Front row for Gavin.

The Starland Ballroom is one of my least favorite venues, it's tight and people get pushy.  It was a general admission show so we arrived early.  Really early.  But we had parking pass tickets which meant we'd get in early, after the VIP ticket holders.  My favorite radio station, WPLJ, showed up with snacks for the fans in line.  I'd wound up with an extra ticket for the show (long story) so another concert friend of mine joined us and by some miracle, we wound up front row in front of bassist, James Cruz and drummer, Mike Baker.  We were enchanted with Wrabel once again.  Andy Grammer was amazing as always.  He invited each of his band members to take solos during "You Can Do This."  They, and we, were totally surprised.  By now I'd heard his new song (as yet unrecorded) enough times to remember a lot of the words.  It's a stunningly beautiful song about sharing your authentic self with the important people in your life ... all of yourself, not just the comfy, cozy parts.  It brings me to tears every time.

Post show.

Gavin delivered his usual heartfelt performance with funny stories.  One of the most magical moments of our night at Starland was the impromptu duet of Gavin and a friend of his from his early days when he performed in bars and clubs in New York.  John Breedlove joined him on stage and they sang Sam Cooke's A Change is Going to Come. It was a very special moment.   One of the truly unique things about Gavin is how willing he is to share the stage with other people.  His kindness and generosity are unfailing. He was genuinely thrilled to see his old friend and was enthusiastic in his introduction.  Later, in the parking lot, we had the opportunity to speak to John for a few moments.  He confirmed what we've always known:  that Gavin is as loving and loyal in real life as he comes across on stage.  After the show, he came down and greeted fans and took pictures.  More magic.

I was so looking forward to the Morristown show.  I grew up in Morristown and was excited for my favorite band to be in my favorite town in a theater where I watched movies in high school.  I will confess we could have slept in, taken it slow since it was a seated show and no early lining up was necessary but we actually went to town for lunch and spent time in the park (more properly, "The Green" if you're from these parts) as the day was really beautiful and we thought our favorite guys might be out and about.  They weren't and in fact, Gavin's bus was no where to be seen.  Andy Grammer tweeted that he'd hidden tickets somewhere outside the theater so since no one else was looking for them, we did.  Phyllis found them but our seats were better so she taped them back into the hiding place.  They were still there after the show.  Apparently no one in Morristown is on Twitter besides me.  That was the night we heard Gavin was ill with a really bad upper respiratory infection.  We watched as his bus pulled in without much time to spare.  Stephen Wrabel was out on the sidewalk doing Facebook Live.  We waited a few minutes and then struck up a conversation. It was nice to be able to tell him how much we enjoyed getting to know him and his music.  We took some pictures and then it was time to go inside.

Phyllis takes a selfie with Greg.

Our seats were in the 7th row, good but not great, on the guitar and keys side for a change.  That was also the night that hardly anyone stood and no one danced.  I wrote a separate story about that here.  That was the time that although I was in row 7, it felt like front row--a different sort of magic.  Between the sets, we spoke with Andy's guitarist, Greg Karas for a few minutes.  I asked him how they keep up the pace, with very few days off on this tour.  He replied, "we were born to do this."  I believe him.

A heartfelt hug for a blast from the past.

You'd never have known Gavin was ill (until the end of the show when he didn't perform his usual encores).  He was charming and energetic and sang his heart out as well as any other time I'd heard him.  At one point a woman approached the stage with her phone in the air.  I wondered where security was as she walked right up to the stage where he was telling a story.  It turned out she'd gone to summer camp with him when they were 11 years old.  They been at the same bus stop together all summer.  Big hugs ensued as we witnessed the mini reunion.  It was a magical moment.

The next day we were off to Philadelphia--early since we had to stand in line.  Despite the date (mid October), it was 80 degrees so the five hours we waited, chatting with the folks we were in line with were hot and steamy.  The Fillmore is a unique venue with rusty old gates out front and a very modern vibe inside. Somehow we got separated while we were checking in.  I wound up in the front row at the end of the stage but Phyllis and our friend, Rebecca, wound up towards the middle near the front.  I need that rail, especially after so many late nights, long lines and hours of dancing.  I could hear my knees protesting loudly.  We loved this show too.  It was fun to see looks of recognition from many of the guys in the band. After the show, when he came down to greet fans, Gavin asked me if I'd had a good time that night (of course!!) and I asked him how he was feeling.  He was still pretty sick, he said (actually he said "I feel like crap.")  Again, you'd never have known.  If it's possible to admire him more, I do.  Powering through those shows was probably difficult.  I have had some experience with respiratory infections.  I have no idea how he was singing through the pain of whatever was plaguing his lungs but he did.  (Later we'd learn he'd contracted walking pneumonia.  Towards the end of the tour he was so sick, he did have to cancel a couple of shows which must have been a very hard decision for him to make.)

Curtain call at the Fillmore.

The next day it was back to work in the hazy dream-like state of concert high.  Make that multiple concert highs.  We'd thought our adventure would end in Philadelphia but the best magic was yet to take place--in Las Vegas.  But that's a separate story.  If you're curious, you can read it here.

Our fall adventures were filled to the brim with our favorite music, chance meetings with some of our favorite artists, scheduled meetings with Gavin, renewing friendships and making new ones at every show with hugs and smiles and stories and photos.  I had filled my tank with the energy that only comes from these experiences and the magic that accompanies them.  Nearly a month later, the concert high lingers, the happiness permeates most every minute* and since there is another concert to come in December, there is more magic to come.

*the election results notwithstanding ...

Concert Diaries Chapter 30 ~ That Time We Won in Vegas

October was the magic month.  I'd planned my vacation around a bunch of Gavin DeGraw's northeastern tour stops.  There were lots of late nights, early afternoons standing in General Admission lines, meet-ups with old friends, new friends made and miles and miles on the Fiesta (better known as "the skate" ...)  Each show had it's own special magic but tonight I'm taking my memories out of order.  The Northeast shows happened first but they're for another chapter.  Tonight I'm thinking back to one week ago ... the magic night I found myself in Las Vegas.

We'd (Phyllis and I) already been to one show (actually two, counting Bethel Woods back in August) when the magic doubled down.   This is how it began: 

There was an email ... Phyllis was the "potential" winner.  We don't win things so it wasn't totally clear what a "potential" winner was.










The contest involved making a donation to a charity, Make Room USA,  which I later found out works on an issue near and dear to my heart:  low cost and affordable housing.

We started planning even though we weren't sure she'd actually won.  Just in case there really was magic at work.




Excited is an understatement.


I, of course, throttled back because that's what I do.  I convinced myself that Phyllis was in a "pool" of "potential winners."  That way we wouldn't be too disappointed when the truth came out.

There was paperwork to be filled out and notarized.  Apparently that's what happens when you win more than $10 on a scratch off ticket.

We started to dream a little.









Dreaming sometimes involves a little wine.  We had no idea how things like this work.  We didn't know when they'd notify her.  I started to get nervous.













My nerves get rattled on a lot of levels but finances is always one of them.  I'm a paycheck to paycheck type of girl.  The prospect of a weekend in Vegas, as amazing as that sounded started making me wonder how I'd get through it, money-wise.  The subtitle of this adventure began to be known as "Two Broke Girls do Vegas."  We vowed we'd figure it out.

It may have involved ramen (which I didn't even do in college.)










The email finally arrived declaring Phyllis the official winner.  We were going to Las Vegas to see Gavin DeGraw in concert at The Cosmopolitan Resort.  We finally allowed ourselves to become 100% excited.

This news arrived on top of the concerts we were already attending in October.  Our concert karma was having a major boost.

The details began to be revealed.  We would fly to Vegas on Friday.  A car would meet us at the airport and take us to The Aria, the resort where we would stay. A car would pick us up the next day to take us around the corner to the Cosmopolitan to meet our host for the night.  We would all go to Gavin's meet and greet for pictures.  We had VIP entry to the show.

I was overwhelmed with all this news.  Thank goodness we were on vacation.  Processing our good luck took a couple of days and we were still in the throes of our original plan which had seemed amazing in and of itself due to the amount of times the tour stopped within driving distance of us.  (See the next chapter.)  October truly was the magic month.

First glimpse of Las Vegas.

I worked half a day on Friday and raced home to finish packing.  We took a cab to the airport and boarded the overbooked plane for the 5 1/2-hour flight to Las Vegas.  We were met by a kind and informative driver who got our adventure started by pointing out everything we were seeing on the way to the resort.  Once at The Aria we got in line to check in ... only to be told we'd stood in the wrong line.  The check in for the "tower suites" where we were staying was behind a "magic" set of doors on the other side of the lobby.  We pressed the button and the doors parted to reveal a small lobby where we registered and received the key.  Off to the 32nd floor we went, swiped the card to the lock and entered our suite.  The Vegas magic continued when the drapes parted to reveal the nighttime view, both up and down, the glittering "strip" of resorts and casinos, restaurants, bars and clubs.  In fact, the drapes were automatically parting in all three rooms of the suite.  The views were gorgeous.  We were starving though so once we'd marveled at the luxury that was ours for two whole days, we went in search of (cheap) food.  We found luscious cheeseburgers on the first floor of the casino which we brought back upstairs.  As it turned out, I was too excited to eat much.  Once settled in for the night, I lay in bed looking at the blinking lights of the city and wondering how in the world I'd arrived there.  I turned out the light to get some sleep and the magic drapes snaked their way around the corner windows, shutting out the view and urging me to close my eyes.

Good morning Vegas!

In the morning I searched for the magic that controlled the curtains.  When I found it, I pressed a couple of buttons and the drapes parted again to reveal sunrise in Las Vegas.  Still on East Coast time, it was early.  The sun was just inching over the mountains that surround the city on all sides.  We'd not noticed the mountains in the darkness of the night before.  It was a stunning view and we were high enough and somewhat behind "the strip" so we could see for miles, unobstructed, in each direction.  Directly across from us (our windows revealed three sides) was The Cosmopolitan, our evening destination.  We wondered why they were sending a car.

We enjoyed exploring a bit of Las Vegas in the little time we had available to us.  The Aria is a beautiful resort and casino with an equally beautiful shopping mall attached to it.  Two broke girls don't shop in stores with more diamonds than you can imagine but we had fun looking.  A monorail took us to the neighboring Bellagio where we photographed the floral displays in the conservatory and the views outside overlooking their lake.  We strolled the plaza outside of Caesar's and crossed the street for coffee and wandered past Paris.  We checked out The Cosmopolitan on our way back to The Aria to get ready.

The car collected us right on time at 5:15 but the amount of traffic and construction made the trip around the block a long ride.  Once at The Cosmopolitan we found our host for the first part of the evening, Todd Krim.  Todd works to put celebrities, in this case, Gavin, together with charities where they can help the organization promote its message and perhaps raise some money (as with the contest Phyllis had entered) as well as awareness.  He was lovely to talk to and I was really impressed with how much good both he and a friend of his who joined us do for the charities they represent.  He, in turn, seemed impressed by the depth of our devotion to Gavin who he'd met a number of times before.  For us, seeing Gavin in concert isn't a casual, occasional thing.  It's a big part of our lives.  We all got in line for the meet and greet.  I felt my nerves kicking in the way they always do anytime I'm going to meet Gavin.  He and his music have meant to much to me since I found him.  I'm convinced I'd still be living in a time tunnel of some sort, stuck in one place caught between wondering who I really was after single motherhood and whether there is life after for a single mom once her kids have grown.

The meet and greet was a quick one ... when you win a meet and greet, you're not given the same amount of time as those who pay for it.  We'd had paid meet and greets and quick moments after some of the shows on this tour already (again, stories for another chapter) but it was still lovely to have the opportunity to say hello once again.  It always is.  I wish I could someday get relaxed to the point of not feeling frozen in his presence but I doubt that day will ever come.

Since we were at the end of the meet and greet line, we weren't sure we'd be able to find spots up front.  But, a few of our friends had saved us spots right on the rail in our favorite location (we like bass players and drummers).  Our "tribe" looks out for one another and we help each other whenever we can.  This collateral benefit of having instant family and friends wherever you go isn't a trivial one.  I'm so grateful to Gavin for all the dozens of people he's brought into my life.  There were a lot of us in Vegas.

The concert was amazing as had been every show on this tour.  Andy Grammer and Gavin are a winning combination but the addition of Stephen Wrabel as the supporting performer was icing on the cake.  He's a sweet, endearing soul with a raw authenticity that shines through the beautiful songs he crafts and offers like poetic gems to his audience.  He'd never toured before and hasn't yet released his first album (coming soon).  It was his last night opening for this tour even though there are more tour stops before it's over.  Andy Grammer is known for pranking his tour mates.  Before Wrabel's  last number he bounded out onto the stage.  "You were the baby of this tour," he said, handing him a baby costume with goofy props.  Stephen was a good sport, donning the ridiculous outfit and proceeding to end his set with his most heart-wrenching song that brings me to tears every time I hear it.

Andy Grammer's set was as energetic and entertaining as it always is.  Andy's ability to light up the stage with the force of his positive personality, the camaraderie of his band, the exhilaration of his music ... it overwhelms me with joy every time.  I'd been to 7 shows on this tour and Phyllis, 6.  You'd suppose that we'd be bored or tired of it.  But nothing could be further from the truth.  This band lifts you up with their exuberance.  By the end of their set whatever baggage you'd carried into the room, has long since bounced off your back and tumbled away.  This is how Andy describes what goes on:  A concert is like an emotional chiropractic experience.  He says " ... if he and Gavin have done their job right, you leave feeling as though you've been emotionally adjusted."  It's the best description of what happens during a live music event ever.  And it's particularly apt for this tour.

When Gavin's set finally begins, I feel my pulse syncing up with the bass and drums the way it always does.  I breathe when he breathes.  My eyes close and the flood of music that washes over me takes me away from myself ... from paycheck to paycheck worries, from Department of Education reports and deadlines, from self doubt and guilt and the plague of stress that seems to accompany me every day.  The old songs are, by now, familiar best friends.  The new songs, particularly, the album's title track, Something Worth Saving, almost brings me to my knees ... both because it's an unspeakably beautiful song and because I wonder why there was nothing worth saving 18 years ago when my husband left.  Gavin's shows have an exciting arc.  He starts with big songs, takes it down a notch, grows it again, arcing higher each time until you feel as though you may burst.  The genius of this tour is the acoustic interlude in the middle which concludes with his personally thanking whatever service people are in the audience while individually acknowledging them, before singing his beautiful anthem, Soldier.  The set progresses until his encore, the current radio single, She Sets the City on Fire.  Several times on this tour we've been treated to a second encore:  Hey Jude.  Joined on stage by Andy Grammer and his band, it's a awesome ending to a perfect night.  Gavin's stories, his humor and his gorgeous raw silky voice have transported me to a place that is now so familiar yet always exciting as it was the first time (July, 2012, Big Flats, New York).

This night is magical though.  We are two Cinderellas at the ball at The Cosmopolitan in glittering Las Vegas.  We're still not sure how we got there but we're thrilled beyond measure to be standing, applauding and returning the love that has just flooded over us from the stage.  There are lots of our tribe here tonight.  A group photo is a must but the casino is crowded and it's hard to find a spot where we fit.  We find it on the second floor in front of an oversized crystal chandelier.  We decide we should eat since we're all starving but Phyllis and I are still on East Coast time having not had enough time to adjust to Pacific Time.  We give in to our fatigue and head back to our hotel through The Cosmopolitan one last time.  We stop in the lobby bar for a really quick drink with a friend.  We see Gavin and some of his band in the company of friends headed off, presumably, for dinner.  We aren't stalkers.  We don't follow.  We all respect him to much to intrude on his down time.

Back at The Aria we bring those same cheap cheeseburgers upstairs with us again.  It's past 1AM but this, too, feels familiar.  The number of late-night meals I've shared with friends following a Gavin concert are innumerable.  Phyllis and I relive the night and consider how lucky we are for the thousandth time that weekend.  Sleep is always an afterthought on these adventures but eventually the curtains drew themselves shut for a few hours on this day too.  It's been a whirlwind with one special memory rapidly following the one before it.

Check out isn't until 11 and our car doesn't come for us until 1 so we had time for a leisurely breakfast in the gorgeous cafe that pays homage to the Mohave desert that surrounds the city with its rocks and cactus gardens.  Our bags are packed but we're not ready to go.  It would be nice to stay in our magic dreamy bubble forever but it's time to check out.  Checking out is so easily done on line these days.  We looked over the bill (which was all taken care of thanks to Make Room USA) and confirmed we were checking out.  As though magically cued, the television turned itself off, the lights extinguished and the drapes rolled closed.  It was the literal final curtain on our magical weekend.  In the pitch dark of the room, like Cinderellas realizing their coach had turned into a pumpkin, we dissolved into peals of laughter while feeling for our bags and making our way to the elevator.  The magic was powerful but now it was showing us the way home.

I owe this special memory to my friend and PIC, Phyllis, who invited me to share in her good fortune.  We started out as concert companions but we're truly sisters now.  We've made a lot of memories together over the last few years and this one will be hard to top.  We both continue to be grateful to Make Room USA for having the contest that brought us to Las Vegas in the first place.  I hope the contest brought them as great a reward as it brought us.  I hope that those of you who stumbled on this chapter of my space here on the interwebs (bless you for reading this far ... I'm a rambler) will click the link and learn about their awesome efforts to advocate for affordable housing.

So ... we went to Las Vegas and didn't put so much as a dime in a slot machine.  But we were still winners.  We met people doing really meaningful work to help others, we met many of our west coast friends in person at last, we participated in the extraordinary live music the means the world to us, we lived the life of Cinderella for two days.  It was magic.

~~~~~~~~~~

Andy Grammer's new song:  The Good Parts
This song is an amazing tribute to relationships that go deep and stand the test of time.  I think this is Andy at his most revealing.  The place where his voice breaks a little makes me love this song even more.

Gavin DeGraw, Something Worth Saving
(Video courtesy of mad4hatter13.  xo, my friend!)

Finale ~ Hey Jude
An exhilarating way to end the perfect night of music.

Concert Diaries Chapter 29 ~ "I'm Sorry, I Can't"

Someone was tapping me on the shoulder.  I turned away from the stage, knowing full well what to expect.

"Could you please sit down?" she said.  She was older than me which was surprising because at a Gavin DeGraw concert, I'm often one of the older people in the room.  She was with her husband, a rather morose looking fellow who was clearly not having a good time.

This was the Morristown, New Jersey, stop of the Andy Grammer/Gavin DeGraw tour.  We were at MPAC--the Morristown Performing Arts Center (the former Community Theater when I was growing up here).  It was about 6 weeks into their tour and my 5th show thus far on the tour.  So you'd think I'd seen it all, heard it all and it wouldn't be as exciting, wouldn't you?  But you're wrong.  Every show is like a new show, even though their set lists don't change much.  Why I see Gavin as often as I  do is a story for another time, however.  Tonight, as I'm looking forward to my 7th show of this tour, I'm thinking about why I still can't sit.

She was clearly unhappy with me.  "I can't see," she said.  "Could you please sit down?"

"No," I said, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't."

I'm sure she thought I meant I wouldn't sit down.  But I actually meant it the way I said it.  I was unable to sit down.

To be sure, we'd all been sitting for the lovely and talented opening act, Wrabel.  But his music is so introspective, quiet, in a way (not quiet-sounding; he delivers with passion), I understand why at seated theater shows, people remain seated during his set.  And unfortunately, as with most opening acts, the audience hasn't completely arrived yet (much to my amazement always).

But when the energetic, animated band that supports Andy Grammer hits the stage with their hard driving introduction in advance of his entrance, people leap to their feet.  They always do, everywhere I've been, any time I've seen him.  Not just on this particular tour.  But not in Morristown, though, on that night.  I slid to the edge of my seat, my legs itching to get me up.  I looked around.  There were two people in the front row standing.  They are huge Andy Grammer fans whom we'd run into several times in the last few weeks.  Seeing them, I slid farther to the edge.  A couple more people got up.  That was all the company I needed.  I was on my feet and involved with the dynamic show that was happening live with only 6 rows between them and me.

Why are they sitting?

I couldn't sit down.  Their energy is so infectious.  Andy and his band cover the stage.  They dance (as in choreographed, synchronized dancing).  They sing--boy, can they sing.  They all play multiple instruments.  It's as live as live music gets.  I could not understand why this audience wasn't on their feet.  They weren't even moving ... no hands clapping, no heads nodding.  I mean, if you're going to sit, at least show some signs of life!

Then Andy launched into one of his first hits, Keep Your Head Up,  And up they got.  Finally, I thought, they're up and we're all in this together.  But no; after that song, they were back in their seats.   There's a point in the show where Andy encourages everyone to dance along with him in a specific way.  He calls it a 2-step and he has a specific face that goes with it.  It's humorous and so much fun.  In Morristown when inviting everyone to dance he implored the audience, "Please try dancing with this song ... if you want, you can sit back down afterwards."  And once again, everyone got up.  And once again, at the end of the song everyone sat down.  Not me.  Not Phyllis.  Not the two girls in the front or the one girl over to the right.

Between Andy's and Gavin's sets, I looked around.  The woman and her husband were no one to be found.  They'd left.  I didn't feel badly as I truly was honest.  I was/am unable to sit during live music.  But it was also loud (loud is good, you know).  And her husband had truly looked miserable.  They couldn't have known Andy Grammer and Gavin DeGraw.  If they had, they'd have known it was going to be loud.  They must have thought they were coming to see Michael Buble or Harry Connick, Jr. (both of whom I like very much but they are more sit-and-clap performances, you know, politely).

I was thinking about the whole sitting phenomenon while the crews were clearing Andy's gear away and putting Gavin's in place.  There's a certain symbiosis that happens when you're in the presence of performers like Andy Grammer and Gavin DeGraw.  Or Train. Or Bruce.  Or any other high-energy performer you can name.  They're poring everything they have into every song, laying everything on that stage.  It's a gift and they hold nothing back.  I feel it wrapping around me like an invisible force.  I can't sit.  I won't sit.

Because, you see, it's a 2-way street.  They give us their energy.  And we give it all back.  Gavin will tell you he needs it (you can actually hear him say that on his live album).  It's as if for a couple of hours you're in a relationship with the people on the stage.  They are giving this gift of music (okay, I know it's not a gift because I've paid, sometimes dearly, to be there but you know what I mean) and we receive it and return it back in the form of participation and appreciation.  And this 2-way relationship builds throughout the night until audience and performers are in complete, well, harmony, and it feels as though the crowd and the musicians have united on some imaginary plane somewhere.  Andy calls it an emotional chiropractic experience.  You may have arrived with some aches and pains, probably in your soul, but you're leaving having been adjusted, in a haze of happiness.  And it flows both ways.  It's the best thing about experiencing live music.  You become a part of it.

When Gavin and his band took the stage, it was a repeat of the response to Andy's show.  People got to their feet for his big radio hits and sat during the rest of the performance.  Gavin had been really quite ill that day (to the point he didn't play his scheduled encore).  Not everyone would have known that; I think these bits of information probably don't get out beyond the circle of fans that pay attention to every social media cue.  I marveled at Gavin's energy despite his being sick.  I don't think anyone realized how ill he was.  He gave his usual 150% to the audience as did his band.  He, too, invited the people to dance if they felt so moved.  Apparently they did not.

Morristown is my home town.  I was thrilled beyond measure when the tour was announced and I saw Morristown on the schedule.  I couldn't wait to welcome these bands to my home.  We were lucky enough to actually run into Stephen Wrabel outside the theater before the show and had the opportunity to thank him for his music and they way he humbly shares his life with his audience.  But inside the theater, I was embarrassed at the lack of enthusiasm.  I felt let down by my home town.  They clearly didn't understand the open invitation to become immersed in the music and the energy.  And I didn't understand them.

Just to be clear, I've been asked to sit at a couple of other shows; I don't want to give my hometown a hard time.  But at those other shows, sitters were clearly in the minority and just had the misfortune to be seated behind me.

So if you're sitting behind me at one of these concerts, don't ask me to sit.  You already know the answer ... I'm not able to constrain myself.  And I'm sorry.

Sorry, not sorry, that is.






















Wrabel ... Check him out here.

Andy Grammer and bassist Zach Rudolph.  Energy.  See it here.

Gavin performing You Make My Heart Sing Louder from his new record, Something Worth Saving.

(Thanks to @MedicoMG for her awesome video. As always.)

Concert Diaries ~ Chapter 28: On the Road Again, Finally

Hello.  My name is Katherine and it's been 258 days since my last Gavin DeGraw concert.  That's a really long stretch for me since discovering this music that virtually changed my life.  I'd been used to averaging nearly a concert a month, having seen him 34 times in 36 months until last July.  July 23, 2015, to be specific.

Other fans seem impressed by that number but live music junkies know that numbers are meaningless; you just go because you have to.  And where you live has a lot to do with it anyway:  I live outside New York.  I can be in Boston, Philadelphia, Manhattan and all points between in a matter of hours.  I can be in upstate New York, farther down South and well into the Midwest within a fun road trip's drive.  I'm lucky geographically.

So when the nearest concert during my "personal Gavin DeGraw drought" was announced for Raleigh, North Carolina, it wasn't much of a decision.  Yes, a closer concert was also announced.  But it wouldn't be until June during graduation week at the school where I work and one does not ask for days off during graduation week.  Then there was one in my birth-town, but a trip to visit family and friends had already been planned for a couple weeks after.  One doesn't drive 12 hours to another country twice in two weeks.  So Raleigh it was.

But this concert was happening relatively soon.  April 8.  And so we, Phyllis and I, set out as planned, at 4 AM.  After a quick coffee stop, we made our way to the New Jersey Turnpike, successfully navigating a pre-dawn detour.  It's pretty well a straight shot from Northern New Jersey to Raleigh, including the beltways around Washington and Richmond.  The only traffic we encountered was the morning rush getting around DC.  It was so easy that the driver (me) could relax a little and enjoy the trip.  The bare early spring of New Jersey gave way to budding maples, cherries and crabapples the further south we went.  Naturalized daffodils along the roadways were waking up to a beautiful sunrise which I could see glowing coral in my rearview mirror.  It was a beautiful ride.  And that includes the completely predictable playlist that we were never without.  Everything Gavin ever recorded plus Train, Andy Grammar, Pete Yorn ... During long rides like this, I sometimes wish my daily commute was longer than my 7 minutes.  It takes three songs to get to work.  Some days,  I need more.

Photo credit: Phyllis

With a couple stops to check my home phone for teachers calling out sick (it was a Friday and while, as a 12-month employee, I do get days off, as the substitute scheduler, I'm always on duty without exception), stops for gas (the first while we were still in Jersey so these Jersey girls would have one less time to stress over pumping) and more coffee (because ... road trip, more coffee), we arrived in Raleigh within about 10 hours or so.  The hotel in downtown Raleigh was lovely and close to our ultimate destination, the Red Hat Amphitheatre.  It was marathon weekend and the hotel was filled with runners and their families.  The concert we'd shortly be attending was a part of the Marathon festivities.

I needed lunch and a little something to celebrate our arrival so we found the restaurant, a really warm and welcoming spot called Jimmy V's Osteria + Bar, named for basketball coach Jimmy Valvano.  A portion of their profits is donated yearly to the cancer foundation that bears his name which I found uniquely impressive for a restaurant.  The flatbread with fontina, fig, pear, proscuito and arugala and a glass of prosecco was just what I needed.  We ran into friends and fan family from Boston to Charlotte all over the hotel.  We know each other from previous shows, social media and as friends of friends (and often, friends of those friends).  It's a big fan family tree with branches all over the globe so meeting up at concerts often takes on the feeling of a family reunion--even when meeting for the first time.

One of our family had come up with the idea of sending a welcome basket of fruit to the venue for our favorite band.  It was such a good idea; those of us on the East Coast had not seen them in quite a while (some much longer than others) and it was so nice to have this opportunity to let them know we were excited for their performance and for their having brought us all together.  We were each in our rooms getting ready when the "thank you" arrive via Twitter and Instagram.  We didn't expect this shout out but were so happy to know that they'd received it.  And, who doesn't like chocolate dipped fruit?  Thanks to @TidewaterTina for making the arrangements for this! And thanks to Michael Baker (Gavin's drummer) for letting us know they'd received the gift.

Our tickets were for General Admission which meant we needed to be at the venue early to land in our coveted front row position.  Consequently, we headed over to the venue around 5 PM even though the doors wouldn't open until 7 and the show wouldn't start until 8.  We had VIP tickets which meant (we were told) early entry (less competition for the front row) and some free drinks.  I don't drink at concerts for a lot of reasons so for me it was all about front row.  We passed the time reminiscing, meeting (for the first time) people we "knew" from various social media platforms and making new friends.  It was several minutes after 7 PM when they finally opened the gates and we made our way to the front.  The ushers motioned us to small tables set aside in a separate section for the VIP guests where we'd be waited on during the show.  It was behind the standing room area next to the stage.  I think they were astounded when we passed on the seating and the drinks.  Who wants to sit at this concert?  Who would pay extra to sit behind the crowd?  We raced by and went straight to the front row.  However, the delay in opening the gate at our VIP entrance meant that the early entry advantage didn't happen.  I wasn't in my favorite spot.  But front row is front row and we all settled in to wait for the opening acts.  Another hour or so to go.

Jason Adamo

As so often happens when I'm out at a Gavin DeGraw concert, the opening acts were really good and I found new music (new-to-me music) to be excited about.  The first band, the Jason Adamo Band, was a local Raleigh favorite.  Jason is a singer/songwriter who's worked in Nashville and he won me over completely.  Before I'd reached home I'd download his recent EP and ordered his album, Transitor.  His full, rich sound with great backing vocals by members of his band and two divine back-up singers was beautiful and his Nashville vibey sensibility, totally up my alley.  I wholeheartedly recommend checking him out wherever you buy music.

Marc Scibilia

The next singer was Marc Scibilia, whom I'd heard of but not yet had the opportunity to listen to.  He brought so much energy to the stage that photographs were all but impossible.  He's currently from Nashville with roots in upstate New York, much like Gavin.  He was also really good and I downloaded some of his music as well.  See links to both Marc and Jason below.

This is one of my favorite by-products of buying tickets to see/hear bands I like:  discovering new or new-to-me music and expanding my music library and experience.  It's how I heard Rachel Platten (at Andy Grammar before she was famous) and Michael Franti (who was huge but I'd not heard of him) and Oh Honey who were, in my opinion, more interesting than the band they opened for.  It's how I discovered the smooth voice of Javier Colon (because I didn't watch The Voice back when he'd won it), Jaida Dreyer, Andrew McMann and so many more. It's amazing to me how music just keeps on giving.

So the first hour plus was wonderful and I knew it could only get better.  The lighting for the show was a bit off.  Only those in the center of the stage were lit and Jason Adamo's band was big so several members played completely in the dark on the right and left.  We were standing on the right side of the stage and I had the feeling that bassist James Cruz and drummer, Mike Baker would be unseen between the sun having gone down and the poor lighting.  I could only hope that Gavin would cover the stage as he usually does and the follow spot would get his band members once in a while.

When he took the stage, I felt every nerve relax.  Nothing in my life has quite the same effect as this man and his music.  Every worry, anxiety, every ache is replaced by pure happiness.  We'd heard he might be under the weather, but you'd never have known.  And even though the temperature had dropped considerably, between the warmth of Gavin's performance and the warmth returned by the crowd, I was completely unaware of how cold it really was.  It was a familiar set list ... something of a combination of his opening set for Shania Twain last year with some selections from the Europe run of last fall and other favorites.  He did cover the stage as I'd known he would and so there were occasional clear sightings of band members.  The sound from the unusually large number of speakers was almost numbing in the front row but I like that.  When the bass and drums can be felt in my chest and the music overtakes every other sound in the crowd, it's like I'm completely one with the music.  I know this is so for other live music fans, no matter the band or genre.  The live music feeling, especially at or near the front, is like no other.

I was secretly hoping for a new song.  It's been well advertised that Gavin is working on a new album and I've been privileged to be at world premier music twice in the past.  But this was not to be the case this time and I'm content to patiently wait for finished product, hopefully some time in the Fall.

I know a lot of people are excited to hear their favorite songs.  But I don't have a favorite.  The magic (or genius) of Gavin's music for me is that every song has a meaning for me.  And I never get tired of any of them.  There's not one that I "skip" when listening at home or in the car.  So as song after song rolls on, I fall deeper and deeper into my cocoon of joy--barely aware of the thousands of people around me.  I take far fewer pictures these days than I used to do.  But I still take some, and by some, I mean quite a lot; but no where near the hundreds that used to be my norm.  I'm much more focused on enjoying the therapy that hearing Gavin perform live affords me.  Because that's what this has come to mean.  I am reset, rebooted, realigned--whatever metaphor works--after hearing Gavin in concert.

The encores and curtain call signal the end.  Gavin uses this opportunity to reintroduce the band and thank his fans and those who were in attendance for the first time.  He's very appreciative of his public support always.

Afterwards, we lingered to speak with friends and take a couple of pictures.  We meandered around a bit before noticing that Gavin had come out to greet the crowd.  As he walked up and down the barrier he gave his full attention to each person he spoke with.  He took pictures with whomever asked and had a mini surprise reunion with a former neighbor from his childhood.  I'm always in awe of his ability to make a person feel like the only one in the area when he's speaking to you even though there are hundreds of people around.  It's a gift I wish I had; I'm working on it.  That ability to give a person your full attention and concentration.  It's truly a gift.  I can hear him saying "Thank you for that," "I appreciate that," and the other phrases he murmurs to people in these crowds.  He hugs some; high fives others.  He is generally this generous with his time until venue management or his tour manager pull him away as was the case on this night.

I had concert afterglow as we walked the chilly two blocks back to the hotel.  The bar was barely open when we got back but we managed to have a round of drinks, a small group of new and old friends.  Then upstairs to reminisce and catch up with some of my first internet friends for a while.  I had a hard time falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning.  There was so much to reflect on and so much adrenaline, but I willed myself to get some rest, knowing the 10-hour drive was coming soon.  Breakfast was leisurely but soon we were back on the road.  With music to propel us north and much to talk about, future concerts to dream about, the drive passed quickly again.  Although we did get hung up on the east side of the DC beltway, I think we navigated our southern road trip rather well.  We're ready for more adventures.  On the road again.  In 139 days.  Not that I'm counting ...


The Jason Adamo Band ~ Raleigh Nights
Marc Scibilia ~ Jericho
Gavin DeGraw ~ Leading Man

Photo by Phyllis.

No Halos for Halos (Marketing the Low Road)

When I think back on commercials that I remember (and isn't that the point ... to remember the ads and hence, probably the products), the ones that stand out are funny ("where's the beef?"), self-deprecating ("I can't believe I ate the whole thing"), or emotional (think Hallmark).  Often, commercials tell a story and most often, they are a reflection of our times.

I've had the following thoughts welling up inside me for a long while but because I've been watching more than the average amount of television during this weekend's East Coast blizzard, I've seen more than the average number of commercials too.  And I'm wondering when taking the lowest road possible began being a popular choice for companies and their marketers.  I haven't done any real research here.  What follows are just my thoughts, impressions ... my opinions.

These are stories that I really hope are not a reflection of our times but at the same time, I'm afraid that they are:

I think the worst offender in my part of the world is the company that markets the little mandarin oranges known as Halo.  If you go to their website, you'll find a tab called videos with most of their commercials all there for the viewing.  They have names like "Tantrum," "Little Pony," and "Duct Tape."  Each of these commercials features a child in the "lead role" doing some things that would have been considered punishable by spending a considerable amount of solo time in a time out spot when my kids were young or possibly a swat on the rear when I was a kid.  Let's look at them.  You can see them here at halosfun.com.

So, in Duct Tape, the mom confesses to her daughter that she gave the last Halo to the girl's baby

Note that the baby still has duct tape on his shirt.

brother.  "That's okay, " she sweetly says.  Mom, clearly relieved at this benign reaction, backs out of the kitchen, shutting the door, where, it is revealed that the daughter has duct taped her baby brother.  Yes, I suppose it's funny ... but call me crazy, putting a toddler at risk and having your mother clearly fear your reaction to what would otherwise be a minor disappointment in life (I mean, little girl go have a banana instead) is nuts.  In what reality is the mom afraid of her little girls' spoiled brat reaction.  Why is she putting up with that?  How did this parent let this happen?  Why has that behavior never been corrected?

Okay ... I'm probably reading 'way too much into this, right?  Let's look at another one.

Little Pony.  That sounds cute, we think.  Little Pony.  In Little Pony, we see a dad waking up in the

morning to find a stuffed animal horse's head (a pretty big one) severed from it's velvety stuffed animal body laying in the bed next to him in an obvious reference to the warning issued in The Godfather.  In the bedroom doorway stands an angry little girl, with an empty box of Halos.  Actually, I don't know of any well-adjusted (read not psychopathic) children who would destroy a beloved stuffed animal nor any kids under the age of ten who would be familiar with a Godfather reference.  Deliberately breaking a toy in my house would have also netted a decent amount of the afore-mentioned time-out time.  And it would have been a while before any new possessions would have landed in the lap of this child.

But what do the parents of these children do?  They reward them with a trip to the grocery store where their carts are loaded up with cartons (in plural) of sweet Halos.  The Little Pony girl stands in the store, grooming what's left of her toy horse with a maniacal expression.  Be afraid people, this kid is big trouble.

My favorite (or I suppose least favorite) bad commercial is actually called Tantrum.  They called it

Tantrum!  In it, a child who is clearly old enough to verbalize his needs using rudimentary vocabulary, is sitting in a grocery cart while his dad is doing the weekly shopping.  They pass the display of Halos in the produce aisle and the little boy launches into a fit of protest.  The dad experiments with pushing the cart ... in front of the display the child is pleased; past the display on either side, the fit ensues. Dad understands what his child is trying to tell him; however,  rather than looking his child in the eyes and gently saying (and by saying, I mean parenting), "This is not how we ask for things in our family," he rewards his spoiled child with cartons of Halos.  This is the commercial I saw numerous times this weekend which caused my thoughts to finally spill onto this page.

I wonder if any of these commercials are award winners.  It wouldn't surprise me if they were.  But what is the message they are really sending?  To me, which will come as no surprise to those still reading here, the message is that some parents today have confused notions about what their role is in  their children's lives.  It is not to walk in fear of their kid's bad behavior and tantrums, thereby placating them with rewards.  It is, instead, to give them the coping skills to face life's little disappointments and hopefully, with enough coping practice, to face life's big disappointments and challenges head-on with perseverance and maturity.  Not having enough mandarin oranges in the house is a little disappointment not a major catastrophe.  We need to learn to deal with it.

In 2014 my least favorite commercial belonged to Famous Footwear.  It's called "Converse Confidence."  It's a back-to-school spot, I think.  In it we see a girl coming through the school's cafeteria.  She's boldly strutting around, telling the lunch lady, "Keep the change" and proceeding to a table with what could only be described as a defiant look.  She sits down with a group of girls, throws her tray on the table with a thud and plops her sparkly Converse-clad feet up on the table, daring the girls to call her out.  They don't.

I wanted Famous Footwear to know that this is not confidence.  So I tweeted them:

The commercial says they are selling confidence.  And I've no doubt that having the right shoes for the right occasion does bolster confidence in a way (I mean, I'm a girl so I get that).  But that's a temporary kind of confidence.  Real confidence means you're able to treat a school cafeteria worker with kindness and respect, not in a disdainful patronizing way.  Real confidence means smiling at your classmates in the cafeteria, not staring them down.  Real confidence is always polite so that rather than tossing your tray on the table, you'd use all your powers of friendly persuasion and ask "Mind if I join you?"  Only people lacking in self-confidence act the way this child does, to mask their insecurities.

However,  Famous Footwear really made up for this one in my book.  In 2015 they produced a commercial called "Family Dinner" in which a family with two dads and two children can be seen sitting down to dinner and depositing all their electronics into a basket so that they can really connect during the meal.  A hundred thumbs up for this one!!

One more ... if you're still with me, I promise it's the last one.  It's from my own cable company,

Optimum.  It looks as though it's taking place in an important government office or the U.N. or some other venue in "officialdom".  A moderator is watching a little girl sign a contract and the camera pulls away as we see her shaking hands with .... her little brother?  It's the big sister/little brother peace treaty.  The camera pans the crowd who have gathered to witness this historic event and we see the mother, beaming at the sight of her kids getting along.  Of course, this turns out to be happening in her imagination as we quickly return to her reality.  She has just installed multi-room DVRs and we can clearly see little brother and big sister watching two televisions in adjacent rooms, taking in their different shows.  A family spread apart by electronics and a lack of effort.  No attempt to teach compromise or taking turns.  You know, basic things best learned at home with gentle coaxing and appropriate modeling from the adult(s) in the home.  No, this mother is so pleased she's come up with this great solution--separation and a higher monthly cable bill for the multi-room DVRs.  

All this was to say that advertisers seem to be deliberately seeking out a lower road to get our attention, appealing to our need for quick fixes for the problems in life.  These are commercials with very long life spans so it appears that this approach is working.  I'm sorry this is the impression of life in the U.S. that some companies want to give the rest of the world.  I'm sorry that this is the commentary we have about family life ... that tantrums are acceptable and arrogance is okay and brothers and sisters needn't try to get along.  It's kind of sad.

However, as stated above, this is merely my opinion.  Your mileage may differ ...