Friday was a blast, acting in Pullstop. I kept reviewing and analyzing the performance. If I could do that again, I would speak more slowly. I'd want to spend more time talking to Lacie off-camera before shooting began. I'd want to have rehearsed the lines into my video camera so I could review delivery and see what works for me and what could/should be adjusted.
Staggered to the next stop of the day, a concert at Coffee Cottage in Newberg. It was fun and I felt I was able to deliver the music, but lacked the energy to relate to my audience as I have come to love doing. There was little or none of the playful banter, a.k.a. inane rambling, that either endears me to my audience or confirms among them the widespread suspicion that I am crazy beyond repair.
Saturday we helped a friend with a project that got physical and I didn't rest as I tend often to do on Sabbath. So by the time I arrive at the Pullstop wrap party on Saturday night, I'm too exhausted to even remember being tired. Dawn, you amazing coach, you!!
Earlier in the day, she texted me, "bring your guitar to the wrap party."
Hmmm, why would I need a guitar at a wrap party? Well, it's because her friend Joel owns the place. Fabulous Portland joint called The Great Hall. Open mic on Saturday nights hosted by Eric and Deanna of TwoRivers Music.
I played a song, then another, then a third. The audience was just amazing. You guys rocked, thank you.
But my favorite moment of all is when the guest starring band of the evening handed out kazoos to the audience so we could play along with what they were doing. I turned just about blue in the face blowing into that thing. How unlucky do you have to be to reach into a basket full of kazoos and pick the single defective?
Meanwhile, Darlene's dying of laughter watching me blow into a kazoo.
I realize you already know this, but I didn't: You don't blow into a kazoo; you hum.
I love this thing. Y'all just don't know. I'm gonna have to rock this at a concert soon!
I'm not selling my guitar just yet. I'm just saying, brace yourself for the Kazoo, because it is coming, my friend. It is coming.
I was laughing so hard that my ribs ached. I was trying to explain how to play, but the words got lost in the laughter. In fact, I'm laughing now just remembering you saying, "How do you play this thing???" Ahh, good times, my friend.
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