That would be me.
I had the news on during the day:
Trump this. Trump that. Thanksgiving. Airports. Highways. Shopping. More Trump. Terror threats.
I had wrapped up a bunch of my design work for Butler Hospital. This coming week looked like it could be busy.
I had my two pies finished for Thanksgiving. Chocolate pecan pie with Nutella with a melted german chocolate bar on the top. And a low-fat apple ricotta pie made with a granola faux crust from an old Jane Brody Cookbook. That recipe called for a springform pan but I’ve made it without using one. I needed other stuff so I ventured out to find one. You would think….
The news had the same stuff:
Romney. Giuliano. Traffic jams. Big balloons and terror threats.
I was feeling restless, I guess. Or maybe it was holiday loneliness. Wednesdays are normally a big open mic night. I could go to Luthier’s Co-op in Easthampton. But I knew Charlie and I are going there this coming week. Then I thought of the Towne Crier (Beacon NY). I had wanted to go back there again. I played there for the first time on what would have been my anniversary last December 23. It was one of those “firsts” that bereavement folks like to warn you about. Then, in early June I was invited back for their open mic finals competition. I finished in second place against a lot of amazing talent. I double-checked with Don Lowe, the host to make sure they were having an open mic.
In the background, the news was the same:
traffic, travel, shoppers, and Trump.
I grabbed my camera and guitar and headed out, not sure what songs I would perform. The two and a half hour drive would give me a chance to figure it out. If it looked like I was going to be early I would stop for dinner someplace. By the time I got to Hartford I realized there wasn’t going to be any “early.” Interstate 84 was at a standstill. Stop and Go. Stop and Go. There was some major construction that was going on too. I got all the way to Farmington before I realized I was part of that Thanksgiving Travel Report I had ignored all day. All the shoppers were going into malls. I wondered if everyone’s economy was this bad when they voted.
Near Waterbury, I tried a detour. There was a highway frontage road I could see on Google maps. But after witnessing a case of road rage between a school van and another car, I got back on 84. I arrived at the Towne Crier about 7:30. A few of the first acts had already performed.
I planned to sing my Mose Allison cover, Ever Since the World Ended. But I was feeling the Christmas shopping spirit. I sang my ‘bad-Santa’ anthem, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, instead. I muffed a few lines but the audience seemed to like it. The audience was definitely into singing along. And in harmony. So, I sang East Longmeadow. When I go to the part with the punch line someone in the audience said, “…Wrong house!” I cracked up laughing.
My camera. Of course, I brought my camera set up. It follows me most places. I filmed a few of the performers ahead of me. There were really some wonderful singers. But once again, the cameraman messed up. Sometimes I push the shutter to start it and accidentally hit it again which turns the camera off. That happened at the open mic finals in June. Tonight I operated the shutter okay but forgot to turn the microphone on. It’s a condenser microphone with a battery. So, I have a series of silent movies. These are just screenshots from my non-musical movies. I need to practice using the camera again at home.
I was glad I went after all. The talent was great. I also had a plate of Baba ghanoush that sustained me for the ride home. The trip back was much easier. All the shoppers were off the road. And the travelers were reunited with their families that voted for someone else.
Thanksgiving. The following day Marty and I went to my cousin Joanne’s house in Connecticut. My 95-year-old Aunt Josie drove herself there. The food was great. A mixture of the usual Turkey and sides and a selection of vegetarian and vegan dishes. Plenty of pies and leftovers to go around.