Keith at Cancer Relay -- 06Jun2009

Well, the good news is that they had a big stage with lights, and huge sound system and everything set up like a full-scale rock concert. The bad news is that it *was* a full-scale rock concert -- except for me, of course. The schedule was: rock band, rock band, rock band, punk band, rock band, rock band, punk band, me, rock band. It was like a brain teaser for 4 year olds: Which of these is different?

It's suddenly very clear why they switched me from 4:00 to the 9:00 hour, when the "Luminaria Ceremony" is traditionally scheduled. If you want somebody to play soft background music during your mushy sentimental speeches, who from the list above would you choose?

After my experience with the Chalk Festival and how lame it was compared to how I thought it was gonna be, and since I was getting really nervous about this one, I thought I'd go over there in the morning to confirm the layout and presumably alleviate my anxiety by seeing that it was also gonna be lame. When we got there and there was a 7 piece rock band, audible from a half a mile away on the dozen Volkswagon-sized JBL speaker cabinets, my little plan backfired, big time. I mentioned my apprehension to several people, friends and the organizer-lady, Ashley, but they all said, "You'll be fine!". That is, of course, easy for them to say...

So I spent the afternoon freaking out over just the magnitude of the sound system, but still thinking that the other acts (after the first Classic Rock, "get 'em warmed up" band) were gonna be, like the chalk festival, local dance academies and high school choirs. Fortunately I was still ignorant of my "odd man (very) out" status in the lineup, or I may have not shown up again that evening.

But I did, and listened to very loud rock bands while trying to talk to my friends over the din. It was at the local college's football stadium, with a running track around it that the Relay-ers were walking. The stage was at one end, and even at the farthest end, it was Really Loud, so much that I had to stop trying to talk to my friend for fear of blowing out my voice before having to sing. And, of course, near the stage it was almost unbearable. All the adults I talked to complained about having to spend all day (this is a 24-hour "endurance" relay kind of thing) with that too-loud noise.

Which actually helped eliminate some anxiety, 'cuz, despite being Completely Different (*because* of it), maybe I was gonna be the respite that the adults had been waiting for all day. I was feeling a little weird mixed in with these rock-n-roll kids, but, hey, nobody likes every kind of music -- never apologize for being not-that-stuff, right?

Problem was, as the day went on, they were falling farther and farther behind in the schedule -- of course. Especially since they'd allotted 10 minutes between bands to tear down one band's stuff, and set up the next, with sound check on a dozen channels. Not bloody likely.

The original plan was for me to play background music for 20 minutes worth of Ceremony speeches at 9:00. At the end of the speeches, they had a bagpiper to lead the audience around the track to look at the luminaria, while playing "Amazing Grace". I know. Hard to imagine. But worse, at that point, I get to play a 35 minute set to the now-empty chairs. Gee, thanks. I'm like, you're kidding, right?

So, I complained and they managed to shuffle the schedule some and get me 45 minutes *before* the ceremony, then play background during it, and then I'm done when the bagpipes start. A bit short of a set, but I can live with it -- it's a good cause and all.

But that all went out the window when I got there, because the only thing that was set in time was the Ceremony is supposed to start at 9:00. So, I agreed to go back to the speeches-then-me ordering. Not ideal, but if the audience actually does the full lap, they'll be back at the stage for my set.

So I get set up after the punk band is done, and the stage manager has the rock band that's on after me setting up behind me as well -- probably wise, to save some time. They finally clear off, so the speeches start, with me playing "Over the Rainbow" in the background. Then the second set of speeches, and I played "You've Got a Friend", over and over for 15 minutes, 'cuz I couldn't very well stop in the middle of the speech to turn the page. Didn't seem to bother anyone. Then the closing remarks, with me back playing "Over the Rainbow", and then the bagpiper takes the audience for a walk.

I'm ready to start singing when they get back, but, whoops, almost nobody actually comes back. They're all pretty tired by this point, and apparently just stopped at their respective tents to get away from all this noise -- this being the first quiet minute since 10am. (The bagpipes, known for being obnoxiously loud, sounded hilariously quiet after all the amplified rock.) So, when the bagpipes quit , I start singing to maybe a dozen or fifteen people, almost all of them my old Indian Princess friends. The kids all wanted to hear my kid songs, of course, so I started with "With a Little Help From My Friends", and then did 3 kid songs, starting with "Waltzing With Bears", of course. Then I thought I'd try to bring some adults back over, so I did "Sweet Baby James", which can also be thought of as a kid song, kinda. So, 5 songs in, I was thinking of what to do next, and the stage manager whispers "One more song!" at me. Say what?!?

So, because I was the only guy there who could play quiet nice stuff, and the guy who bent over backwards to get the Ceremony started on time, I get my already-short 45-minute set cut to less than half of that to reset the schedule. But I can't actually stand on stage and argue with Ashley over the microphone, so I play "You've Got a Friend in Me", and get out of the way so the rock kids can start their one-hour set.

Now, I will say that none of this was malicious on Ashley's part. She's probably 25, and just green and naïve. But when it came time to figure out how to fix the schedule, she shoulda remembered who her friends were, 'cuz it's gonna be pretty hard to get me back there next year.