8/28, 11:38am: I’ve been staring at the screen and wondering how to begin - hoping to open with something cute or profound - when I decided that the simple idea that I’m pondering all this is sufficient. Funny thing is, I have so much on my plate that it’s curious that I would have such difficulties.
We’re at the end of a four day run at The Orleans in Las Vegas; one of my favorite stops and our third time here now. What makes this particular stay different is the afternoon rehearsals we’ve been having. The band is set to produce a live concert video next month in Biloxi, Mississippi, and Engelbert has chosen a wealth of new material for the show. While I miss having the afternoon free to do...well, pretty much anything, I am enjoying working up the new songs. There’s been some personnel changes in the band and I’m pleased that I’ve been able to recommend my good friend Dave Hill to join us on guitar for the video shoot. I’m also excited that Ron King - another musician buddy from L.A. - is going to be our new trumpet player when we return home from Las Vegas. Ron is a dynamic player who will surely bring a lot to the table.
Previously, we had played a weekend in Massachusetts which, in addition to the extreme heat & humidity, also presented some interesting venues for us. There is apparently a common style of theater on the east coast - particularly in more rural areas - which is called a “music tent” or “music circus”. These venues are basically theaters in the round with giant circus-type tents around them. They are semi-enclosed so it’s a unique kind of indoor/outdoor experience. Despite the heat and intense humidity, I kind of enjoyed the experience as it gave me a rare opportunity to see Engelbert from a much different vantage point.
Engelbert was perched on top of a medium sized round stage which was in the middle of the theater. Seats were situated all around and the band was set up in an orchestra pit. For the first time, I could really see Engelbert perform in much the same way as the audience. It was quite exhilarating. I can see why he has sustained such a long and successful career and why his fans are so taken by him. He is truly a charismatic performer who, by the way, happens to sing is ass off. I’m not sure my love of the new surroundings was shared by all (including Humpy himself), but I had fun and it gave me a new level of respect for Engelbert and the way he played to the crowd from all angles of the stage.
Next stop is Cerritos, CA where I’ll be blessed to have Beth and her wonderful mother Hilda (who’s visiting from NY) in attendance. After that, it’s 5 days of rehearsal in Hollywood interspersed with moving into a new apartment with Beth and, in the not-too-distant future, little Natalia. It’s going to be an eventful week which, after some consideration, can be said for the entire year so far!
Well, it’s off to rehearsal. Wanted to hit the gym for a little bit and work off some of the damage from the buffet but the writing bug bit me and I couldn’t hold off.
By next entry, I’ll be in the nurturing comfort of my new home & family.
Until next time...
--Adam
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Philadelphia/Cleveland II
8/8/05, 4:24pm: Just a quick update as to what’s happening in Max & Erma’s Bar in Cleveland, Ohio...none other than Jim Brown was here having a beer. Yes, THAT Jim Brown of the Cleveland Browns! He asked for my autograph and I graciously accepted. Then we went on to the bench press test. I won by pressing three waitresses and a tray full of MIller Lites as the onlooking crowd approved. But seriously, it’s amazing what you see when spending several hours in an airport bar.
Somehow, in some wierd way, I’m having a good time.
--Adam
Somehow, in some wierd way, I’m having a good time.
--Adam
Philadelphia/Cleveland I
8/8/05, 2:42pm: I am not an expert traveler. I consider myself a seasoned traveler; always open to advice, the occasional lesson to be learned...basically anything that can help me deal with airline travel more enjoyably and more efficiently. I dress and pack appropriately so I can breeze through security and, though I have the additional baggage of an instrument to carry, I would say I do alright.
My last entry was written within the confines of the Philadelphia Airport. I awoke, fairly fresh, at 6am and was out the hotel door at 6:30 to make my 10:05 flight. Overkill you say? Until you’ve encountered the line for security at Phily (which I alluded to in my last report) you’ll know that this is not a rookie move. Anyhow, all systems go, with plenty of time to sit in the terminal and do such mundane things as write for this journal.
Boarding call was made and I entered the plane and took my seat with the sense of triumph of a plan well-executed. Then, the wait began. 10 minutes on the tarmac. Fifteen. Twenty. Finally, in a voice all too clear, “Ladies & gentlemen, apparently a Frontier Airlines jet has had its brakes lock up and is unable to move off the runway.” My heart froze. My throat became dry. A diminished chord from some unseen movie score orchestra pulsed in my head. I thought to myself, “Why didn’t I get called for that gig?”. But I digress. Fast-forward to an hour later. Our flight takes off and we arrive in Cleveland at approximately 12:30pm. My connecting flight was scheduled to depart at 12:35. I hoped. I prayed. I chanted to unseen spirits. I grabbed my shit and bolted like a kid stealing a Tootsie Roll from the local mini-mart. At 12:40 I arrived at the gate -- not out of breath mind you -- only to hear the words “I’m sorry, the plane has already left.”
Fast-forward again, I’m here in Cleveland waiting for my 8:55pm flight. Seven hours to kill. (Actually, more than that when you take in when this all actually started.) So, with several whiskeys already under my belt and with even more hours to go, I submit to you this thought for consideration: All the experience in the world can’t prepare you for...what you think you’re prepared for.
I have also come to the conclusion that, with the right attitude, almost everything is bearable. Then again, that could be the whiskey talking.
Humbly yours,
--Adam
My last entry was written within the confines of the Philadelphia Airport. I awoke, fairly fresh, at 6am and was out the hotel door at 6:30 to make my 10:05 flight. Overkill you say? Until you’ve encountered the line for security at Phily (which I alluded to in my last report) you’ll know that this is not a rookie move. Anyhow, all systems go, with plenty of time to sit in the terminal and do such mundane things as write for this journal.
Boarding call was made and I entered the plane and took my seat with the sense of triumph of a plan well-executed. Then, the wait began. 10 minutes on the tarmac. Fifteen. Twenty. Finally, in a voice all too clear, “Ladies & gentlemen, apparently a Frontier Airlines jet has had its brakes lock up and is unable to move off the runway.” My heart froze. My throat became dry. A diminished chord from some unseen movie score orchestra pulsed in my head. I thought to myself, “Why didn’t I get called for that gig?”. But I digress. Fast-forward to an hour later. Our flight takes off and we arrive in Cleveland at approximately 12:30pm. My connecting flight was scheduled to depart at 12:35. I hoped. I prayed. I chanted to unseen spirits. I grabbed my shit and bolted like a kid stealing a Tootsie Roll from the local mini-mart. At 12:40 I arrived at the gate -- not out of breath mind you -- only to hear the words “I’m sorry, the plane has already left.”
Fast-forward again, I’m here in Cleveland waiting for my 8:55pm flight. Seven hours to kill. (Actually, more than that when you take in when this all actually started.) So, with several whiskeys already under my belt and with even more hours to go, I submit to you this thought for consideration: All the experience in the world can’t prepare you for...what you think you’re prepared for.
I have also come to the conclusion that, with the right attitude, almost everything is bearable. Then again, that could be the whiskey talking.
Humbly yours,
--Adam
Monday, August 8, 2005
Gettin' my Jersey up!
8/8/05, 8:11am: Greetings from the Philadelphia Airport! We just finished a two-day run in New Jersey (New Brunswick & Sewell) and, well, not too much of particular interest to report. I’m flying out of Philly, boarding a connecting flight in Cleveland and then on home to LAX. This is my second time flying through Philadelphia. Word to the wise; avoid flying out of here at all costs. The line for security here is quite possibly the longest line -- of any kind, for any reason -- that I have ever seen. Passengers for the entire airport funnel through this one station. Not sure why such inefficiency exists at a major airport like this, but it at least softens the blow by being quite comfortable once inside the terminal. Wireless Internet and a decent selection of shops & restaurants make for pleasant way to kill some time.
New Jersey, in my opinion, is quite a lovely state and it’s moniker of the “Garden State” is well-deserved. Lush greenery is everywhere and the buildings -- both commercial & residential -- are refreshingly different than the cookie-cutter architecture we see in L.A. So much more character! The town of New Brunswick in particular struck me as being quite nice and had that small-town, colonial look & feel to it. It’s also home to Rutgers University and the college was well-represented around town with displays of school athletic uniforms, clothes, and other related souvenirs.
Both shows went well with Engelbert hitting what appeared to be a personal high-note at the show in Sewell. It was one of the larger venues we’ve played -- probably 3000 or more capacity -- and there was a nice exchange of energy between audience & band.
The high note for me, however, was being picked up by a limo at the airport (I had arrived a day earlier before everyone else so a car was sent for me) and getting the driver to stop at White Castle for me. I bought a sack of 10 cheeseburgers, got through 5, and with a smile from ear to ear, left the rest for the driver. I do believe I saw stars as the first delectable little belly bomb slid down my throat. The only thing that could’ve made it better was having my Dad sharing the bag of burgers with me. Next time!
Up next, dates in Massachusetts, New York, Las Vegas, and SoCal. Right now, I look forward to a few days at home with the lovely Beth, and a photo shoot for my upcoming record. Hopefully I can squeeze in a gig or some other playing situation as well.
That’s all for now!
Your friendly neighborhood bassist,
--Adam
New Jersey, in my opinion, is quite a lovely state and it’s moniker of the “Garden State” is well-deserved. Lush greenery is everywhere and the buildings -- both commercial & residential -- are refreshingly different than the cookie-cutter architecture we see in L.A. So much more character! The town of New Brunswick in particular struck me as being quite nice and had that small-town, colonial look & feel to it. It’s also home to Rutgers University and the college was well-represented around town with displays of school athletic uniforms, clothes, and other related souvenirs.
Both shows went well with Engelbert hitting what appeared to be a personal high-note at the show in Sewell. It was one of the larger venues we’ve played -- probably 3000 or more capacity -- and there was a nice exchange of energy between audience & band.
The high note for me, however, was being picked up by a limo at the airport (I had arrived a day earlier before everyone else so a car was sent for me) and getting the driver to stop at White Castle for me. I bought a sack of 10 cheeseburgers, got through 5, and with a smile from ear to ear, left the rest for the driver. I do believe I saw stars as the first delectable little belly bomb slid down my throat. The only thing that could’ve made it better was having my Dad sharing the bag of burgers with me. Next time!
Up next, dates in Massachusetts, New York, Las Vegas, and SoCal. Right now, I look forward to a few days at home with the lovely Beth, and a photo shoot for my upcoming record. Hopefully I can squeeze in a gig or some other playing situation as well.
That’s all for now!
Your friendly neighborhood bassist,
--Adam
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