The Discipline Twins Invade Rosemary Beach Under the Sheltering Sky: A Frame By Frame Account of a Rather Soggy Trip to a Normally Sunny Destination

With a headline like that, I hope you were prepared for something scary.  Funny that Mark and I both brought our King Crimson t-shirts.  This afternoon was so sticky and humid, not to mention a full-on downpour off and on all day and night, that I couldn't help but sweat through my shirt.  Crazy humidity, worse than the ATL.  And we're in an open-air tent.  The best thing for bass strings and musical equipment in general.  Sabina and the boys were seriously considering to come along for a one day vacation - a day on the beach and all that.  So glad that didn't happen.  It would not have been any fun for them.

Sweetwater Junction this time out on September 21st was Chris Garner, Brian Molin, Mark Letalien, Pete Orenstein, and myself.  One big happy.  We met at 9:30 or so at 14th Street.  It was a long ride in the Black Suburban of doom.  Actually, that Suburban is a very nice ride.  State of the art, with 2 drop-down HD-oriented DVD screens.  We couldn't figure out the headphones for listening, but got it to work with earbuds.  Chirs brought some DVD-R burned movies, but the only one that worked in the player was Crazy Heart (starrring Jeff Bridges as country has-been singer-songwriter Otis "Bad" Blake).  It was a good movie that kept me interested, but only chewed up perhaps 90 minutes of a 5 hour trip.  We were pushing it to set up on time.  No worries.  It all came together; finding the tent was a bit of a needle in a haystack, as the entire Rosemary Beach area looks the same and it appeared to be a maze of identical bungalows and such.  Great driving from Brian and Mark and then we were there.

Discipline is a vehicle for joy.

We soundchecked and rehearsed the first dance, I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz.  Sad aside here: I saw the tune on the list but confused it with another Mraz tune I'm Yours.  That tune has perhaps a similar theme in the lyrics ("I won't hesitate no more it cannot wait I'm yours").  Not really the same at all, but in my head I thought I already knew it.  Ooops!  Had to learn it on the fly, thanks to Mark having it on his ipod.  Don't assume - you know what happens when you do!  I decided to play it on The Stick, which worked out well.  It is a ballad, so groove was not a big part of the rhythm, although ballads certainly have a groove as well.  It was nice to grab some chords with my right hand to give a bit of heft to the gentle tune.


After soundcheck, we stacked the cases and wiped them off; they were already very wet.  I guess they needed a cleaning.  Mark and I were given a few gift ponchos.  There's a good joke in there somewhere.  We had some time to grab an early dinner, but the place we chose was only serving snack food - sandwiches and such.  We made the best of it.  I enjoyed some of the best guacamole I've had in a long time.  Decent sandwiches and chips.  And it rained some more.

The gig went well.  This band shifts along effortlessly.  They get hired for the rock, country, jam-band stuff, and the dance hits of today and yesterday.  That's a lot of material.  We did a nice long jazz set for dinner, which I enjoy as much as the other material.  This crowd didn't ask for jams that the folks at Callanwolde did, so we didn't play any Dead, Band, Phish, Panic, or the like.  It was more like Clapton, Van, Petty, Allmans, Stones, you get the picture.  We did throw in Daft Punk's Get Lucky near the end.  The crowd loved it, especially the parents.  We soon were done at an early hour and packed up the trailer to sleep in Dothan.  Not before running onto the beach to see the sea.  I did twice but the first time my shoes got drenched - doh!  That's what I get for trying to touch the water - why did I leave my shoes on?  At least it wasn't my black shoes.  There after, I was Shoeless Joe.  A memorable Waffle House trip the next morning and then we wound our way back north.  I had to be back to scoot over to Decatur for an afternoon neighborhood gig.  It ain't easy...

The stage is set