Downtown Sunday Night!
After the long night before, getting up and driving to Indianapolis would have been a challenge even without daylight savings time. But there we were, not yet used to the idea that it was now an hour later — and after crossing into Indiana, it would only jump forward ANOTHER hour. I think the night before I said something like, “We’ll just leave and noon and see if that was a good idea when we get there.” During the drive down, we listened to as much Rotary Ten (our high school / college band) as we could stand, cracking on our solos and vocal takes and tics. It was actually pretty hilarious, and a great way to kill time.
Scott (a.k.a. my twin brother, a.k.a. The Monologue Bombs) had booked the odd Sunday evening show at the Lazy Daze coffee shop, and he was kind enough to let me share the set with him. After the three hour drive, we set up in the “back room” of this place…and played to no-one. Well, no-one at first. One guy wandered in and out. Another guy came in and sat alone with his laptop. Another guy brought in a baby, who started crying at some point. And during the last couple songs, a young couple clearly on a date sat right next to the tiny stage.
What was weird, and what made it feel like we were, in fact, alone the whole time, was the fact that NOT ONE PAIR OF HANDS CLAPPED EVEN ONCE. For any song. For an hour and fifteen minutes. Which…
Ready to "Enjoy the Silence."
I’m not actually mad or even upset about it. Not at the time, not now. More amazed, really. I mean, we got to practice, and we did a couple unrehearsed things, and Scott’s just fun to watch in general. And the non-clapping audience was kind enough to recommend a Mexican restaurant down the street which turned out to be good. I would just ask why a place like that would bother booking musicians. I would also ask if Scott (or I) couldn’t have read between the lines when looking into the venue.
But in the end, it’s not really anyone’s fault, and you never REALLY know what the deal is until you play a place. After which point, you can cross it off your list and just look forward to other shows, in other places. Which I’ve done. And I am.
Still, for the whole weekend, I gotta say thanks to Scott for playing and singing so beautifully, and for giving me the opportunity to challenge myself by playing on some of his stuff, and on a couple neat covers. (“We Showed ‘Em, Ma — Didn’t We?”) And thanks to Amy for tolerating and even perhaps enjoying the bulk of our rock and roll vacation!
