I Had a Very Fun and Productive Week.

  One can only marvel at the wonders that life will throw at you.  

One month ago, I was entangled in as tragic a situation as could possibly be imagined.  

Today, Sunday September 28th, 2008, I'm humbled to be free and still of sound mind.

But enough poo!

Friday had brought me round to the facts:

I must prepare.  

I must prepare for the weekend of fun, benevolence, and just plain hard work.  

So I ventured home after work, (a mere twelve hour jaunt as a mild mannered but suavely savantish restaurant GM, during which I endured the brunt of the angry, the ignorant, and was treated to the just plain nice.), to begin.  

The house is perfect.  

Quiet.  Clean.  Quiet.  

Ahhhhh.
My mission for Friday:  

Program four hours of CLASSIC Country music and some contemporary crowd pleasers for a (what was forecasted to be) rainy Saturday afternoon Lung Cancer Benefit.

 Then, program sound effects and game show theme songs to be played during the first intermission at the bar Saturday night, during which I will MC the Dirty Word Spelling Bee. (Copyright ME!)

A classy, old school, grass roots family in town is throwing a surprise fund raiser for it's eldest sister who is battling the disease.  

Battling is positively not the word.  

I had seen said sister at a wedding (also DJ'ed by yours truly) this summer, and you could have fooled me.  She looks strong, and is by no means going to just evaporate.  She's as hale and hearty as can be, and if that doesn't make you want to do something productive with your own HEALTHY life, stop reading my blog.  

You're in the wrong place. 

         This place is about hope.

              This place is about FORWARD.>>>>

I am not Country music's biggest fan, but I can recognize greatness.  

Mostly when someone approaches me and says,  "This song's so great!!! Who is it??"  

That's mostly how I pick the songs I play live during my acoustic sets.  

Anything that will get a total stranger to come up to me and ask questions is hot on my list.  

This week's winner:  Conway Twitty's It's Only Make Believe

It was a crappy day Saturday, but a fantastic turnout for a great lady who comes from a great family.

I wish her the bestest of the bestest, and laughed at her brother David 

when he asked what they owed me.  

It is to Laugh!

You can't buy the feelings you get from doing good deeds.

I also made some great new friends.

While setting up, two of the grandchildren were just so frickin' adoreable I couldn't help but have them join in for the fun.  Once they saw the microphone, I turned up the volume, and we had a four year old singing scat, and a seven year old singing EVERYTHING!  Very cool.  

That's Sara "SairBear" Roderick, top,
and her older sister Lauren "LuLu" Roderick, bottom.

Those are my sunglasses.
Tracy and Mark should be very proud.  They're beautiful, funny, bright kids.  Very talented.  

Later in the day, as I began to pack up, I noticed the hint of sadness in Lauren's eyes. Her new friend, and a new musical friend at that, was leaving.  We'd never met before, and I could just imagine her thinking we may never meet again.  

I reached into my hatchback VW and pulled out the Uke.  

As I handed it to her, her Dad looked shocked.  I knew that look, as well.

  
Ukeleles are a wonderful instrument.  They play in the same standard tuning as a guitar, only eight frets up the neck, and eliminating the two largest strings, the E and the A.  

They look silly, but they can sound angelic, and have a tranquilizing effect on humans.

When "LuLu's" face lit up at first grabbing the Uke, her Dad's mind went from, 

"Oh, hey lookit that lil' thing!" to 

"Oh, HEY!  Lookit' THAT little thing!  Why didn't I think of that!"

The wee lass ran around for the next twenty minutes strumming songs noone could recognize, (for they had yet to be written), and singing words noone could memorize, (for the stream of consciousness a joyful seven year old musters is incomprehensible to an adult.  You just let it flow, and enjoy.)  Music is a drug, I swear to you.  

Upon her return to the world of adults, and removing her faerie wings, I grabbed the Uke, and she and I, along with her Pop-Pop (Grampa), sang my version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", finishing the benefit in front of the final fifty or so people on such an amazing high note you'd think it was scripted.  

(And, yes, now you know it was.  By me.  Remember? Truth.)

We recieved thunderous applause, and many handshakes for our little show, and I hopped in my already/just packed emerald chariot and staccato beeped my way down the drive.  

 The rain?  

Pfeh.

 The rain cannot dampen the spirit.  

I was off to work, after the quickest of showers.  

Work was fast, work was hard, work was.....work!  The Saturday crew is not the Friday crew.  The rule is the rule. 

 Fridays don't work Saturdays unless they request it, 

and then they are granted the request at the sacrifice of a Saturday.  

Thus, work being work, people being people, the Saturday crew is a Tuesday turned up a notch.  Now, Saturdays as a DAY are the second busiest day of the week.  This week, as with last week, it was THE busiest day of the week.  I got my cardio in for the month on Saturday.

It was all made worth it, though, when at the strike of Ten P.M., E.S.T., the acoustic act I'd signed up began to play.  They weren't breaking down barriers or rebuilding the pyramids, but they were young and hopeful, and with a great upside.  I had scheduled one bartender, although she is a badass, and myself.  I don't collect tips, as I'm salary, so this was all hers.  We set a new two person shift record.  It was great.  I love my job.  Like any other job, it has it's internal shit poilitics, but the job in general is great.  I'm a people person, so it's easy.  

It's almost not work, it's so easy. 

 The best part?  I brokered the deal with the band so they had to work, too....

They do the door, they get the door.
The door must be no bigger than $3.
They must start at Ten P.M., break at Eleven P.M., and end at Twelve Thirty P.M., leaving my regular Last Call Bar Crawlers the Juke Box Saturday (Late)Night.

You know what? Good for the band.
They did their job.
They brought their crowd.

They collected their money

.They won new fans.

They will live to fight another day.

   A shot from Saturday night, Jo, one of the guitar players, and her Mom and friend.

 Good for us, too!
The band, which I promoted only on the Bar's Myspace and with in-house flyers, cost the business THIRTY SIX DOLLARS.
A $36 bar tab.

We won new fans, too!

There's nothing like seeing people with a few pops in them try and spell FURBURGER, or GONORRHEA.  Priceless.  Free gifts for all three contestants.  The sound effects were cool, but the "Price is Right" Theme, when timed correctly, is a show stealer.  Man-o, I love my Nano!

Saturday, September 27th, 2008 went so well, that even on the three hours of sleep I got later that night, opening the place for a twelve hour shift today was a breeze.

I'm glad I shared that with you.  
See you tomorrow.

It gets better every day.

Joesmith(realname)