Walk Journals ~ September 17 (Contrasts)

Back in May when I was writing one of my concert diaries I referred to myself this way: "I am my own study in contrasts."  It's pretty true.  

After 11 hours in the office, I couldn't wait to get out and walk tonight.  I was anxious to move after so many hours sitting and I had a lot of energy because that's what happens when you're particularly productive--at least that what happens to me.  Productivity breeds energy.  But I didn't have a lot of time tonight because I had a date with my television so I tried to make the most of the time I had by picking up the pace a lot.  Having walked only sporadically these last couple of weeks since the pain started, I was finally feeling really well and was able to get to 15 minute miles.  I think I'll be back to a decent pace really soon.

Fueling my walk tonight is Pat Monahan of the band Train and a couple of his podcasts in which he interviews music friends he's made over the years.  I listened to him talk with the Secret Sisters whom I've been wanting to get to know for a while and Brandi Carlisle was in on that conversation too.  Interesting and talented ladies.  One of the best parts of Pat's Patcasts (that's what he's called his podcasts) is that he sings along with his guests on one of their songs.  And it's the whole song, not just a bit of a song.  The Secret Singers decide to sing Black and Blue. Lydia and Laura Rogers have that uniquely southern sound that I tend to love a lot and the tightness of their harmony makes me jealous.  I wish I could do that.

At the 2-mile mark I start up another Patcast, this time with Butch Walker, the singer, songwriter, producer who's worked with so many amazing artists (including one I happen to like a lot).  It's a really long interview and they cover a lot of territory.  I have Butch's autobiography too and have read a bit of it. Now that the summer is over and I'm back to longer days at work, it's harder to commit to a book but I will finish it; he's fascinating and I'm learning a lot about the music business. Butch is a wonderful storyteller and has had a lot of experiences that make for great stories.  I'm enjoying hearing about his start in music during the "hair-metal" days.

Pat is a wonderful interviewer.  These sessions are actually less like interviews and more like being "a fly on the wall" during personal conversations between old friends.  Butch sings a new song and it's simply beautiful.  Let It Go Where It's Supposed To:  Let it go where it's supposed to.  Let your life hang out the window to dry.  And if it catches the wind and you never see it again, Then I guess it probably was time. Did I mention he's a heck of a guitar player and such a good singer? 

As always, while I'm walking, while I'm rambling, I'm looking for the picture that tells the story of that day's walk.  Most often it has to do with light on the river or lake or bits of nature that catch my attention.  Sometimes it's something downtown that I find amusing or has struck me for some other reason.  Not having an enormous amount of time tonight and with light fading fast, I decide to walk to the pond and back, about 4 miles, 4.5 if I walk around the pond.  There is a sidewalk most of the way on this route so it's relatively safe when the sun goes down.  I have to pass the Diamond Spring before I get to the pond.  The sky over the spring is striated with pink and grey and pale blue.  The almost full moon is shining like diamond, low on the horizon.  Evening light.  Gracious light.  Phos Hilaron.  

O gracious light, 

pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven, 

O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed! 

Now as we come to the setting of the sun, 

and our eyes behold the vesper light, 

we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices, 

O Son of God, O Giver of Life, 

and to be glorified through all the worlds. 

It's from Evening Prayer in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer.  I've loved this poetry my whole adult life.  My son sang with my church's very traditionally Anglican Choir of Men and boys when he was young and on Tuesdays, after the boys had rehearsed they would sing Evensong for whomever was around at 5:30.  Evening Prayer is an ancient office of the Church and Evensong is it's sung version.  It's quiet and quite perfect.  We don't do Tuesday Evensong anymore at church.  There aren't enough children in the choir right now ... but I miss it and, sometimes, that time in my life.

I choose the moon over the Diamond Spring as my picture tonight and send it off to Facebook with a verse from Phos Hilaron.  And just like that, I return to the Patcast.  That's how I ramble ... from Butch Walker to ancient texts and back again.  My own study in contrasts ...

Concert Diaries Chapter Nine ~ Oh Hell No ...

Am I tired of this setlist yet?

Oh hell no!

Am I tired of any of the setlists for this tour?

Oh hell no!

Okay, well maybe a little Script goes a long way for me ... I definitely would have preferred seeing Michael Franti at every performance rather than The Script.

If it's Saturday, it must be Boston, or what Ticketmaster calls Boston in order to make people believe they're going to a concert in Boston.  I fell for it.  But no, (oh hell no?), make that over an hour south of Boston in the woods of Mansfield. The Comcast Center.  Loud Chick had issues with getting us out of the city so we had a scenic tour of Roxbury and definitely a most circuitous route to spice up our ride.

My daughter lives just outside of Boston and I'm on vacation this week to visit her.  We're off to the Mermaids of Alcatraz tour tonight because as her mother, I feel duty-bound to expose her to my impeccable taste in music.  I meant that as a joke but as I think about it, it's pretty true.  She's seen a lot of Broadway, had piano and flute lessons, sang for years with the Girls' Choir at St. Peter's and had some fantastic performance and touring opportunities with that group.  She marched in her high school marching band and played concert band as well so she's been exposed to a wide range music from Bach to Bruce, from Gilbert and Sullivan to Aida performed live amongst ruins in Rome and to her favorite classic rock bands like Pink Floyd and my favorite whom we will see tonight (my twelfth time, her second).  It's Gavin DeGraw time, once again.

We're pretty far back but this venue has a very nice incline to it so the sight lines are okay.  They're okay for someone who can see.  My eyesight is in the middle-aged not-so-great stage.  But that's okay, somehow I'm able to focus just fine when those first chords strike and the guys in the band (I can't call them boys like he does--they're all grown men and one is older than him) take the stage.  Gavin had posted earlier in tweets and vines that he was on vocal rest for a horribly sore throat.  I wondered earlier if he would have to cancel his scheduled meet and greets in order to stay rested.  Like the true professional he is, however, he made those fans happy by keeping the appointments, although, according to one friend's tweet, he whispered his way through them. 

You would not have known he was under the weather from the performance he gave last night.  Yes, the same set list as I'd heard twice this summer already but I cannot grow tired of it.  Oh hell no.  It is a joy to watch him perform in person, moving easily through the crowd and gaining many fans, I'm sure, with every song he sings.  The people around us are fans too so there are no issues this time with standing and singing.  Thank goodness--it was a beautiful night and I needed to be on my feet.  The couple in front of us were on their feet too--but they were not too steady.  I'm not sure what it is but both Boston-area concerts we've been to, we've had to deal with drunken people in front of us.  Both of us found this person rather amusing but her loud screams were pretty wearing on the nerves after a while.

Since I'd missed the first few songs from The Script on Tuesday night, I made sure I was in my seat for the start of their set.  It started with an animated opening projected on screens much like the opening of Train's set on opening night.  It was hard to hear but I imagine if you were a Script fan and knew their music, it made sense.  To me it looked like an eye test but I'm sure it had something to do with the album title, Science and Faith.  They are a band with a lot of energy and there are a couple of songs that I do truly enjoy.  I find though, that their songs all sound somewhat alike and one song in particular, which is apparently a huge hit judging from the crowd reaction, really grates on my nerves.  They also chugged beer on stage and used a fair amount of the "f" word.  Since this tour has attracted so many families (lots of families enjoy Train together), I thought that they should have been more cognizant of who was in the audience.  There were a fair number of children and they had to have known that.  Language doesn't bother me at all; I'm just saying I think a band that is so revered by teens and preteens ought not to be glorifying drinking to excess with cursing.  "If you're not fucking drunk, you're not fucking drinking enough," was the line that really bothered me.  This is not to say I didn't enjoy them; they were okay.

The set change for Train took a while as I knew it would.  The couple in front of us were enjoying themselves enormously even screaming for the recorded music that plays between sets.  We could tell that some of the people around us were getting more than a little annoyed. 


Finally, the San Francisco fog began to blow across the stage, the whistle bellowed and Train began their show.  I have to admit having now seen them three times this summer:  they've got me.  I'm a fan.  The music is easy to understand even with all the complicated words in some of the lyrics.  You can't help but get involved.  Pat Monahan is a generous performer taking photos of himself with the cameras of fans while singing, pitching t-shirts into the audience and walking out into the crowd to sing "Marry Me."  Marry Me makes me sad every time I hear it.  Every couple in the crowd becomes obviously "coupled" and it has the effect of making a single person feel quite alone--at least this single person.  Tonight, a couple in the front row became engaged while Pat was singing "Mary Me." 


I want to tweet to Pat Monahan.  When you go to the same concert a few times you hear the same "banter" over and over.  Out on Long Island on Tuesday he told the New York crowd that he expected big participation on the song, Save Me San Francisco, because New York invented the term "Oh hell no," which is part of the lyric.  At the time I thought that was kind of neat, recognizing the tough New Yorker crowd.  Except that Saturday night he's said the same thing to the Boston folks.  I expect if I'd made it to the Sunday show in New Jersey, I'd have heard that New Jersey invented "oh hell no."  So who came up with that phrase?  Don't ask Pat ... he's not sure ...

At some point someone must have complained about the loud gyrating woman and her husband because some venue security came and escorted them away. We felt kind of bad for them--they weren't as bad as the guy in front of us last year--but after they left I had a really clear shot of the stage so I was able to take a lot of pictures.

Pat came out for the encore performances with a Boston t-shirt on.  It's clear that people are still very much tuned in to the Marathon tragedy which is completely understandable.  An event of that magnitude will hover just below the surface of the consciousness of a community for a long time--maybe forever.  I can't see the New York skyline without thinking of September 11--every single time.  The crowd appreciated Pat's gesture.  After singing Drops of Jupiter, the song he wrote following his mom's death, he asks Ashley Monroe, Gavin and Danny to join him for The Weight again.  Gavin was wearing a grey sweater over a yellow shirt.  At first I thought the sweater was due to his not feeling well but he unzipped it to reveal a Boston Strong t-shirt with the now familiar blue and yellow logo.  There was a huge roar of appreciation for him.

I wish I could tell if my daughter really enjoys these forays into my music world or if she's just indulging her mom.  We bought Gavin and Train shirts tonight (for both of us).  I think that's a good sign.  She wouldn't wear a shirt she didn't like.  We've seen Bruce together--it was easy to tell she was excited to be there.  (Although, I fail to see how anyone could not be excited at a Springsteen show.  It's an event unto itself.)  I can't expect everyone I love to be the die-hard Gavin DeGraw fan that I've become.  Can I?  Oh hell no.  Except that I do...

~

Post script ... Sunday night found me hanging with family instead of at the concert in Holmdel.  Some things take precedence. 

Concert Diaries Chapter Eight ~ Jones Beach

Yesterday, July 22, marked one year since seeing Gavin DeGraw in concert for the first time.  It was an odd little outdoor venue in a place called Big Flats.  I went alone on the 4-hour drive to the panhandle of New York State.  I don't mind doing things alone.  If I didn't, I'd never go anywhere; when you're single, you learn to go out alone.  It was also the first time I sat in the rain for this guy.

The following day I got up early drove home, picked up a friend and went to Gavin's concert at Rye Playland, just outside of New York City.  You know the place--it was the setting for some of the scenes in the Tom Hanks film, Big.  Remember the creepy fortune teller machine?  Yeah, there.  It's also the scene of the first time I met and spoke to Gavin.  It was the second time I sat in the rain.  A year ago today.

Since then I've been to 8 additional shows (one of those was in rain ...) and chatted with him on other occasions.

Tonight I'm in Jones Beach on Long Island (New York).  Rain is predicted and the sky was grey when I woke up.  I just know I'm getting wet tonight.  At least it's 86 degrees. I have a meet and greet tonight.  That's a paid-for (in this case) opportunity to meet the artist and say hello.  This time it also comes with "stuff" (t-shirt, poster, other miscellaneous things that I'm far too old to care about).  I just want to tell him thanks for changing my life and that the new music is amazing.  Because, as you know, he changed my life ... restoring health, hope and joy where there had been a sort of steadfast lethargy and general sense that this was all there was.

Jones Beach at low tide with Nikon Theater
under blue skies.  Gavin DeGraw under the stars and
not one drop of rain.

I'm always worried about driving in New York.  Even with my ever-present Loud Chick (GPS), I still make mistakes, the exits come up so quickly there and the construction and rearrangement of roads is continual.  So I left really early.  And made record time.  No traffic.  No driving snafus.  So I find myself in a near-empty parking lot three hours before the venue gates open.  Having thought this place was in a beach town (like New Jersey beaches) I'd thought I'd get lunch and hang out for a bit.  But Jones Beach is a public park with a concession stand.  And there's no where to go.  Diet coke on the beach it is then.  And The Script is sound checking over in the arena so it's not all bad.  And Gavin is making "vines" and generally entertaining people.  In other words, I found ways to fritter away that time.  And I got some sun.

At 5:00 I got into line for the meet and greet.  It was early but there were already folks there.  We had fun chatting together while we waited for "his people" to come collect us.  I met Hayley from the "message board."  She lives in Australia and this is her first trip to the U.S.  I knew from the board she was coming to the concert but didn't expect to run into her in the massive crowd.  There was another family waiting who had come from Israel.  There weren't all that many of us altogether.  A lovely young lady (I want her job) came for us around 6:00 and back to the buses we went.  Gavin's parents were standing backstage with a group of people who I presume were family or friends.  Since he's from upstate New York it's not surprising that they'd make the drive to Long Island.  His new tour manager was there to keep things moving along and someone else was taking pictures with each person's own camera.  (This is much nicer than waiting for a radio station to upload their pictures which is often how these things go when the meet and greet is being sponsored.)

I love Gavin--he's such a pro. I'm not sure he remembered me but he acted as if he did.  We talked about the tour and the new music.  He autographed my copy of Sweeter.  His "people" took several pictures of us chatting.  I didn't get to say all that I wanted because the "people" really kept an eye on the clock. Besides, I'd need a half hour in an empty Starbucks with him to really thank him for rescuing me.

My seats were only okay.  Despite getting on line the minute tickets became available, I don't have great seats at any of these shows.  That's a discussion--or a rant--for another time.  But my new camera is wonderful and the lens brings the far-away stage closer and in focus.  Of course, the user isn't steady or proficient so the pictures and video still leave a lot to be desired, as I found out afterwards.  Something to work on ...

Since Gavin is the opener, people are still arriving and it's still light out when he starts.  I want to stand up so badly but I'm there alone with no one to be my reinforcement and there are really old people behind me who asked if I was going to stand the entire time.  Why, of course, I wanted to say.  I'll be dancing too.  And singing ... but not loudly.  But I didn't.  I dutifully slunk into my seat where I could not contain my bouncing.  Finally about half way through when he sang Chariot, a song everyone recognized, people got to their feet.  Liberated from the chair, I felt much better.  And I'm sorry to say old people ... you're going to have to stand up too ... 'cause this is the way it's going to go all night.  He moved throughout the audience, winning over The Script and Train fans and left everyone wanting more.  I think we call that Mission Accomplished.

During the swap out of band equipment, I visited the concourse where I ran into Hayley who was elated at having had the meet and greet and wonderful performance.  We were excitedly comparing impressions and shoving not-completely-awful venue food into our mouths.  She suffers from the same thing many of us do:  an inability to eat on concert day.  We visited the "merch" table together but small sizes of everything were already sold out.  (Side note:  size small in tour t-shirts is now too big for me; I need XS.  Mind blowing to me still.)

The Script started while Hayley and I were hanging out but we didn't care.  We'd gotten what we came for.  Eventually though, we went back to our seats.  Danny of The Script is a really good singer and emotional but in a different way from Gavin. The crowd was thrilled.  It was clear there were a lot of Script fans in the stadium which was now packed (the show had sold out--no upgrades).  Actually, one of my Girl Scouts, a huge Script fan, was sitting in an upper deck with her mom--a birthday present from her parents and her first concert ever.  After their performance I texted them, "Is she okay or do I need to come up there and do a little CPR ..."  She's been beyond excited for weeks now.  The reply:  All she can say is "Oh my god.  Oh my god."

The change of equipment takes longer for Train so the second intermission is kind of long.  I'm anticipating that 6-minute animated introduction that you can now find on YouTube which I found so unnecessary in Virginia Beach but am happily surprised when the train whistle blows, the set chugs itself forward and the lights turn up on Pat Monahan.  All are on their feet again.  There is no "new" music since this album--California 37--has been out for well over a year.  They perform many songs from it and lots of prior hits, probably getting around to everyone's favorites.  The highlight of the Train set for me is Pat's duet with country singer Ashley Monroe:  Bruises.  Following that song she sings one of her own and tonight she keeps Pat onstage to sing Weed Instead of Roses--a really truthful song about a marriage in a rut.  Perhaps I like it so much because I recognize the subject matter and am acutely aware of how devastating ruts can be to a marriage.  But for the umpteenth time, I wonder how one so young, who is just engaged herself, can be so cognizant of old married pitfalls.  Songwriters have keen powers of observation.

At the third show on this tour, in Toronto, a special encore was added.  Pat invites Gavin, Ashley Monroe and Danny to come back out and they all perform The Weight by The Band.  It's clear from all the videos already online from performances in Toronto, Cleveland and Indianapolis that they love closing the show this way.  I cannot help but notice on these videos that the roar from the crowd when Gavin steps up for his solo verse is enormous in each venue.  Danny did not come back on stage as he was actually not well, although, you'd never have known it during their set.  The song was wonderful--the perfect way to close the night.

I met my Twitter/Facebook friend Matty after the show.  He introduced me to a couple of friends and we talked for a bit, took pictures and got excited for the next show we have together (September in Yonkers at the Casino).  My world has been so enriched with these meetings--virtual friendships that quickly become very real.

One odd thing that happened was that the high tide came in extra high last night due to the full moon (or nearly full).  The water actually rose to within the first few rows and those people were actually sort of sitting in the ocean for the latter part of the show.  It was the first time I can think of that I was happy to not be in the front row.

Driving back home I think Loud Chick made a mistake--I was following her instructions explicitly, not wanting to get lost in New York after midnight--and I found myself driving around side streets in The Bronx for a few minutes.  Eventually she figured it out and as I drifted back over the George Washington Bridge I was already getting ready for Saturday's show in Massachusetts.

A Sweeter day.