K&W at Yorba Linda -- 23Jun2007

Kind of disappointing. I was never able to really connect with anybody -- they were almost all otherwise engaged. Or unimpressed...

We had one small funny incident: one of two seriously studying young ladies asked me to play "You've Got a Friend", so I did. But as soon as I started the intro, I could tell by their reaction that that's not the song she meant. Of course, I couldn't stop once I'd gotten started, but when I got to the end, I said "But that's not the song you wanted, is it?" The one she meant was "You've Got a Friend In Me" (from "Toy Story"), so I chided her a bit about hoping that she was being more accurate in her homework there, and played that one, too.

One of my sometimes-successful tricks for getting some kind of attention from a non-attentive audience is to play a noticeably-difficult or impressive song. This tends, at this point, to be "Scarborough Fair" -- people know it, and can somehow tell that it's tricky to play, and once I've played it, I get the (probably imaginary) feeling that there's a bit more respect in the room. This makes the subsequent simple songs go over better, presumably because they now know that I *can* play more impressively, but don't happen to be doing so.

Anyway, the only problem with that is that I (have to) play that one solo -- it's so concentration-intensive that if Warren plays along, the distraction is enough to completely derail me. Last week when our guest-harmony singer sang along, I got screwed up several times (though I was able to recover, astonishing myself in the process). Warren once told me that he didn't mind sitting a few songs out, but it still bothers me to do it, 'cuz he has to put his guitar down and walk away, and it's plenty awkward.

And this time, I played it early on in desperation, trying to get some reaction from these brick-like people. Then later in the night, I solicited requests from Tiffany the coffee-girl, and she wanted to hear, oops, "Scarborough Fair". I guess she can't hear us very well way over there behind the counter (or maybe she's just too preoccupied) and didn't hear it the first time. Of course, I can't refuse a direct request, especially from a store staff-person who we'll be seeing again. But doing that to Warren once a night is bad enough -- twice felt really uncool.

K&W at Brea -- 16June07

This was only the second time I've played at the Brea store, though Warren's been there a couple more times with Jim. It's got a terrible layout for playing -- there's no decent place to set up and play, but we figured something out, kind of in a too-narrow aisle, back to the store. We end up pretty far away from the people back in the corner of the café, and I remembered that from last time, so I made sure to personally interact with them right from the start ("Can you hear us back there?" kind of stuff), to make sure that they were "in" the show.

While we were setting up a guy came over and asked when we were going to play, and what kind of stuff. I gave him a list, which he got pretty excited about, and when he saw "Bus Stop" he said that he'd come over and sing harmony, if I had a spare mic. I did, and told him he'd be welcome. He introduced himself (Dave) and wandered off, but came back over once we'd started, and, sure enough, after listening for a while, asked us to do "Bus Stop" and I fetched out the other mic, and we went to town. He knew the words, and sings really well, so we started hunting the list for more songs that had harmony in 'em.

Of course, I choose songs specifically that sound OK *without* harmony, but there were plenty that sure don't mind having the harmony in 'em -- and we played 'em all. It was pretty big fun. He was a little freaked about the fact that almost all of them had been transposed down, but it didn't seem to actually throw him in practice.

Then a group of high school girls came in and were *very* enthusiastic about us playing. One of 'em plopped down on the ground right in front, so I handed her a list, and when she saw "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", she 'bout wet her pants. Turns out she's a *huge* Harrison fan, so of course we played that one for her. I'm pretty sure that she and her friends were literally screaming (quietly) at the end of the songs. Unfortunately, they could only stay for a few, but they made the night even more fun.

Though he clearly didn't intend to stay there all night, Dave kept singing, and thanking us for letting him, until the very end. He sang along on most everything, and was gracious when there wasn't a part for him. We met up with him and his friend in the parking lot afterwards, and it turns out that he's a part of the local musician scene, and has been for a while. He and Warren knew a bunch of people in common. It could turn into some alternate playing opportunities.

So, overall, a great night. Certainly different, and that's a good thing.

Princess Campout at Campland San Diego, June 2007 -- Part 2

This campout also always includes the initiation/hazing of the incoming tribe chiefs. This is frequently a semi-disaster, 'cuz the idea is to embarrass/humiliate the guys, which is supposed to be fun, but it sometimes just comes out as mean. I remember once when Geneva started crying watching them turn a guy into an ice cream sundae, and it wasn't even me.

This time, my buddy Todd proposed that we "test their bravery" by making them sing in public. And, rather than bring in a karaoke machine (which was a disaster 2 or 3 years ago), I would be the musical accompaniment. Like the TV show "So You Think You Can Dance", but it was "So You Think You Can Sing Like Keith". This was genius because (a) my songs are already transposed into a more-singable by normal (non-tenor) guys key, (b) unlike a tape, I could (try to) follow where they were going, timing-wise, and (c) if they got really lost, I could help out over my head mic.

And it did work out really well. We had 2 or 3 essentially tone-deaf guys, but I helped them out so nobody completely crashed and burned, and some of the guys were pretty OK on their own. None of them were really ready to step up and take my now-vacant position as Nation Music Guy, but it was fun for everybody, and no permanent damage to any of the chiefs.

There was also a nice graduation ceremony for the girls (like Acacia) that are leaving Princesses. Since she's moving up to Trailmates, we aren't really leaving the program exactly, but we are leaving a lot of friends behind, and I won't be along to play at the Princess campfires anymore, except...

I'd really hate to lose those campfire times -- they all seem to love having me, and I surely love playing for all those appreciative little girls. So, I made it clear that I'd be happy to come back and play at future campfires, as long as they're at reasonably close-by campsites, and my calendar permits. I really just meant that I would drive out and play, and go home again, but I talked to one of the chiefs and he thinks that they could/should pay my way to the event, and have me (and Acacia) there the whole time. That's pretty generous, especially since he was talking about the expensive snow camp type events. We'll see what happens.

On Sunday morning we have the more serious ceremony, "graduating" the old chiefs, where the nation chief talks about what a great job each guy did in planning an event, or doing his Council job. I'm on the Council as the Web Guy, and he hit on that briefly, but mostly talked about the music job I do. This was met by a standing ovation from the nation, which was pretty nice. I stepped up to the mic and made a little speech, thanking them (or, more likely, their predecessors) for helping instill the courage in me to get up and sing, which led to my "career" in the coffee shops.

I also confessed that I had never bought the "required" leather Princess Vest, on which the event patches are sewn. The girls each have one, but I just kind of collected the patches, with nothing to do with them. So, earlier in the week, I bought a 20-foot piece of rope, which was just long enough to hot-glue the patches to, in chronological order, with a small space between them. I folded the "garland" up and wrapped it in some paper, and while I was talking, I had the girls grab one end each, and walk apart, stretching the rope across the front of the stage. The effect was pretty stunning -- I heard a lot of "amazement" noises as I talked about this being what 10 years' worth of patches looks like.

It really is quite sad for me to have to leave the Princess program -- even though we're moving up to Trailmates which is almost the same thing. It's been a really good device for keeping me from letting the girls' childhoods slip by even more than they have anyway. But, hey, they grow up -- there's no stopping it.

Princess Campout at Campland San Diego, June 2007, Part 1

Well, we had our last Princess event over the weekend; the annual end-of-the-year Family campout at Campland in San Diego. It's a "resort" campground, and we rent a pop-up tent-trailer for the weekend, and there's real bathrooms with hot showers, so the moms (and specifically, Daleen) will come.

Every year on Saturday morning, there's the Sand Sculpture "contest", where each tribe builds something, and is given some lame design-specific award for it. There seems to be an unwritten rule that those awards be as lame as possible, so even the youngest kids can see through the ruse. I've always wished that the chief/judges would at least try to make the awards less lame-jokey and more something the kids could be proud of: biggest, most creative, funniest, most realistic -- anything that could be taken as possibly referring to more than one entry. But I guess I'm done after 10 years, and I should just get over it...

For our first entry, 10 years ago, the guys (or should I say "boys"?) wanted to do a mermaid. This came out as you might expect, and I was feeling like it wasn't terribly appropriate, nor any fun for the kids, so I added a cartoon-ey octopus next to it. The cool part about the octopus design is that you can farm out each tentacle to 8 people or small teams, and everybody gets to contribute. They all look to me to do the finishing touches, but they get pretty close with just some guidance.

This time, I went for a more realistic style, and did more with the twists and curls of the tentacles than before. I had lots of help right at first, when I need a lot of sand moved into the main pile, so we had more finishing-touches time to do the eyes and get some variety in the tentacles.

It was an eventful weekend -- more tomorrow!

KC at Yorba Linda -- 01June2007

Playing solo is always twice as scary at first, but I settle into it OK after a while. It went pretty well -- there were lots more studying kids this time than we normally find at Yorba Linda, but it's the end of school, so maybe it was cramming for finals time. Still, I had several people listening and requesting, pretty much right from the start, so it was fine.

Side story: Back in the 70's, there was an arcade video game called "Tail Gunner". It was terribly primitive by today's standards, of course, but it was the only game that I ever put any of my hard-earned quarters into. It was a "sit-down" game, and you were the tail gunner of a spaceship, where your job was to shoot, using the between-the-legs joystick, three incoming bad guys that would fly in from the sides, dance around a bit, and try to "pass" you. If you let three past, you were out.

One time I was playing it, and a young kid came and parked outside, watching. This made me nervous, and I started playing pretty badly. He watched for a while, and said, "You're trying too hard." This was nail-on-the-head absolutely true -- he could tell just by looking. The cool part about this game was that you had to shoot those guys on pure instinct. You didn't have time to think, aim, and shoot -- you had to give up thinking. It was a "Zone generator" -- it required, and caused, you to go into the Zone to play it. When he was watching me, I couldn't zone out, and had to resort to "trying", which didn't work. I've never seen a game, before or since, that was such a direct path to that "use the Force" feeling.

Playing music is a lot like that -- for me anyway. At first, when I'm working on a new song, it's all mechanical, just getting the notes. But when I can relax, zone out, and let it flow, I'm so much better. And it's so much more fun.

Which leads (finally) to my mistake on Friday. I brought the video camera and set it up, pointing at myself. The good part is that it's possible to grab stills from the video where you aren't looking like a dork. The bad part is that I play badly. I want to have good, mistake-free takes for the movie, and I end up "trying too hard". I can't just let go and play, so I play worse, not better.

The temptation to bring the camera (or an audio recorder) is that, sometimes, it all goes magic. When it does, you think, "Dang! I wish I had a recording going!" What I finally realize is that the recorder is never gonna capture the magic -- the recorder *prevents* the magic.

So, yeah, I'm not that proud of the songs on the video. There might be one or two that are presentable -- hardly worth the trouble to convert them off of the tape. I'm gonna have to learn to ignore the temptation to try to record this stuff.

But I did have fun. It's one of the "open 'til 11" ones, but for the first time, people were actually leaving before they got kicked out. By 10:20 or so, there were only 3 or 4 people left in there (and the battery was dead on the vidcam), so I thought it'd be a good time to try out some of the new songs I've been practicing: "Still Crazy", "American Tune", "Girl", and even "Mexico". They all went OK, except "Girl" seems kind of uninteresting when I do it. It sounds much better in my head. Maybe with Warren playing along it won't be so dull.