"GIG"

Starbucks on Lacewood Dr. has been a friendly haunt now for a couple of months. The coffee is o.k. and the prices are in line with everywhere else. The staff knows me, what I like and they make me feel like I belong. The crowd that filters through here is pretty savvy, pretty cool; no slugs. But what I like best is the music. When I walk in the door, I know I’ll be hearing Dylan or Neil Young, Van Morrison, Joni Mitchell, and a comparable line up of artists, with a noticeably Canadian flavor. That’s a way-cool way to begin a new day. 

Yesterday, almost everything I did was preparation, funneling down to a 7:00 Story gig. It’s been a very long time since I worked in front of an adult audience. Not like kids, they will know if you’re prepared and if what you offer up is worth listening to. So I spent time through the day with the guitar, working my left hand through scales and chord changes. Made up a list of things I didn’t want to forget; story selections and the order I would follow. My biggest worry is losing my way in a song. A break in a story can be covered up with body language or other little tricks but music is too structured for that. 

The Story Tellers Circle of Halifax hosts a program, followed by an open mic once a month at Chebucto Coffee. Last night they gave me the first hour. The audience was about a dozen deep, mostly other Tellers. That’s a double edge blade, like preaching to the choir, all friendly faces who want you to succeed but also knowing the difference between “good” and “so-so”. 

I told a few Sam and Forrest Cole stories, from the Civil War era and the connection with their infamous cousins, outlaws Frank & Jesse James. Then I went to my bread & butter. “Summertime” is my favorite, best story, where a little boy tries to avoid work and ease his fears by coaxing his mother to sing for him. His name is LeRoy and everyone figures out quickly that I’m just an older LeRoy going by another name. 

I told the story I wrote for my daughter, a Cinderella tale with moon and stars; with dancing, a rainbow and a little magic. The guitar, the lyrics; everything came out right. Applause is the proper response in any case but when faces, the eyes in particular, tell you that you’re doing something right, it's a trip. Then I told a fun, little tale about the time I tried to teach my son to tie his shoes. He was in kindergarten; we practiced every day for weeks but no cigar. Then, at recess, a third grader on the playground showed him how. I improvised a little ditty on tying shoes, in the key of “E”. Sounded like I had been doing it that way forever.

After the break, instead of me telling more Story we segued into an informal discussion on creating your own stories and with issues related to telling stories from cultures other than your own. It was an awesome evening and I left feeling more than satisfied. People who had been strangers or acquaintances at best, parted company as friends. 

I have my last training session at the Apple Store in about an hour. The new, photo workshop software has lots of details and stuff to remember, that’s where I get bogged down but the options and affects are great. The next project is another book, in the same vein as the one I wrote for my family in 2011. Have two pieces, with photos, already in the can and still learning how to format things in ways I never thought I could do.

Sunshine yesterday; rain forecast for today and clouds are already here, dropping down. In the movies, back when Bert Reynolds was on top, with heavy mustache and side burns; “Smokey & The Bandit” was a big hit. The theme song had a great hook line that comes to mind now. It went, “I’ve got a long way to go, and a short time to get there. I’m leaving town, just watch old Bandit run.”  Well, I’m feeling more and more like Bandit.