OHIO WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY -- PART III

(be sure to read part I and II first!)

++++++++++ 8:54 AM ++++++++++

Up and at-em! After throwing up from jangled nerves, I launch into my pre-concert ritual – keeping myself as physically busy and as mentally pre-occupied as humanly possible until I’m onstage. This particular morning primarily involves going through my grandmother’s kitchen cabinets to coerce her into throwing out all the food that has past it’s expiration date by more then 2 years – her waste-not-want-not, prohibition-era-mindset can make this a challenging task. The search-and-discard mission keeps me busy for several hours, and every can of vintage Vienna sausages that goes into the garbage can is replaced with a fresh hope that my grandmother will still be around next time I have the chance to visit at Thanksgiving. I shower, do some slow practicing (making sure to refill the memory potholes from yesterday’s rehearsal), and before I know it, it’s time to head to Delaware.

++++++++++ 12:24 PM ++++++++++

It doesn’t rain, but we do miss the turn… again.

++++++++++ 1:00 PM ++++++++++

The band rehearses, and I keep myself busy setting up, double-checking my equipment, tuning up both guitars (there’ll be one at the side of the stage, in case I break a string in mid-performance) and pacing about nervously. We check a couple of spots in “Chaos Theory”, but our rehearsal yesterday was very thorough and everyone feels good about it. Now it’s time to wait…

I go downstairs to the bathroom to change. My new shirt fits quite well, but I’m still not so sure about my hasty selection… the shirt is bright blue, and a little on the shiny side, and I wonder if I’d look better swinging from a trapeze at the circus than playing the electric guitar onstage… I run into Bryan, the first clarinetist, and I compliment his solo in one of the other pieces they’d rehearsed. Bryan tells me he really likes the high parts I’ve written for the clarinets, and I’m again relieved to be accepted by another musician.

The audience begins filing in, and attendance looks good…

++++++++++ 3:15 PM ++++++++++

The concert starts with a circus-style march that sets the tone for the entire concert – high energy. I’ve chosen to listen to the concert from the hallway – I’ve decided its a lot better location for pacing than the aisle of the concert hall. Through the stage door, I can hear Milt creating a great rapport with the audience, as he describes each musical selection before the band performs it. I realize that I’m supposed to say something to the audience before “Reflections in a Tidal Pool”, and I have no idea what I’m going to talk about. Before I know it, I’ve been introduced, come out onstage, said something that involved a lot of hand gestures, and am standing backstage again. I remember that “Reflections…” is only about 2 minutes long, and next is “Chaos Theory”, and I curse myself for not making “Reflections…” a much, much longer piece. I strap on my guitar and suddenly remember the immortal words of David Leisner, one of my favorite guitar teachers:

“Pick one single thing during this performance that you’re going to focus on.”

I decide very quickly what my singular focus will be: don’t bugger up the solo cadenza.



The performance goes well – the band plays great and even manages to stay with me when, in a fit of foolish excitement, I suddenly push the tempo waaaaay faster in the first movement. And the cadenza comes off OK – near the end I even hear a woman in the audience let out a loud “whoo!”. I wait for some sort of feminine undergarment to come sailing up onstage (any shape or size would’ve made me happy), but no such luck – I was good, but not that good. In the end, the band receives a standing ovation for an excellent performance, and I've gotten to rock out with a roomful of new friends.

++++++++++ 4:49 PM ++++++++++

There were other things that happened that night – the warm congratulatory exchanges with the other musicians and audience members; the caravan back to Polaris for dinner with Dr.Gamso, Milt, Nicki, and Grandma (at the ubiquitous suburban Olive Garden); the drive back to Bucyrus; then onto Chicago, drop our stuff off, clean out Carla’s car, take the dogs for a walk – not to mention giving Nicki the first real, long, present embrace in several days – and finally crawling into bed at 2:30 AM, very doubtful I’ll awake the next morning bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready for work the next morning… but I think the story of this road-trip must end with one simple, unexaggerated, yet remarkable fact:

We never missed any turns on the way home.


(Sincerest thanks to Joey (POP-U-LA-TION-YOU!), Allison, Brenna, Zach, OSU Joe, Derek, Justin (“think Bonham”), Annie, Bryan, Seth, Corey, Emily, Nathan (the world’s loudest ‘cellist), Heidi, Matt (thanks again for the amp, dude!), and all the other members of the band whose names didn’t deserve the terrible fate of having fallen through the cracks in my noggin – and a very special thanks to Dr. Nancy Gamso, Carla (for the sweet chariot), Milt Allen (my newest old friend), Nicki (my getaway driver/second opinion/reality check/super-awesome girlfriend), and of course, Grandma – for a most excellent weekend.)

OHIO WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY -- PART II

(be sure to read part I first!)

++++++++++ 7:45 AM ++++++++++

I awake and jump in the shower. My grandmother has been up since 5 AM. I decide I’ll let Nicki sleep, and don’t go in to wake her up until 9:00. She’s still in bed, waiting for me with bloodshot eyes. She hasn’t slept a wink. Too much coffee, different surroundings, unmade bed (an oversight on Grandma’s part that Nicki was too polite to point out) – for whatever reason, she has tossed and turned all night. Ever the positive trooper, she acts like nothing is the matter, and when asked, graciously tells my grandmother that she slept very well, thank you.

I do a few odd jobs to help out around my grandmother’s house, a short warmup on the guitar, and then Nicki and I jump back into the car to head to Delaware for the first rehearsal.

++++++++++ 12:00 PM ++++++++++

It’s raining, and we miss the exit.

++++++++++ 12:35 PM ++++++++++

We arrive in Delaware, and with a little extra time to spare, we decide to check out the town. I head for the nearest music store to buy extra strings, and Nicki makes a bee-line to a trendy coffee-house for another infusion of caffeine. I look up and down the street for a place to buy a shirt for the concert, but can’t find one. Time to head to rehearsal…

++++++++++ 12:55 PM ++++++++++

We arrive a little early, which gives Nicki a chance to grab a couch and chill, and me a chance to pace about nervously. The concert hall is gorgeous – very wide, with red velvet seats, and a big pipe organ at the back of the stage. The musicians are gradually filtering in – this is always an awkward time for me, as I never know whether I should introduce myself or not. They’ve been playing my music for weeks, and by now, have probably decided whether I’ve got the goods or not. I decide to keep to myself and continue to pace about nervously. I find the poster advertising the concert:

“Metallica meets Mozart”

Great, I think – the crowd is going to show up for a meal of Metallica and they’re gonna get served Bonney a la Modal.

The rehearsal starts with “Reflections in a Tidal Pool”. Already, the band sounds great. The hall is warm and reverberant, and the lush chords fill out the acoustic beautifully. I’m much at-ease within the first 30 seconds. Milt is very gracious about encorporating my suggestions, which are really just musical and interpretive polish for a well-prepared ensemble. The other musicians are also very responsive to my individual comments, and I can hear my intentions carried out almost immediately. Soon it’s time for "Chaos Theory", and I slap my gear together and strap on my guitar. One of the musicians (Matt) has brought two of his amps in for me to choose from, and within a few minutes, I feel good about the first one I’ve plugged into. Milt gives the downbeat, and we’re off! Allison, the bass guitarist, is beside me onstage, and I’m glad to be able to exchange devious grins with her before we drop in on our heavy unison chords together. At the end of the run-through of the first movement, I can’t contain myself and I let out a big yell – this band sounds tight and ferocious and HUGE! They all laugh at my outburst and I take this as a good sign – we’re all having a very good time with this music. We finish rehearsal, take a break, then the students sit down in the audience and I squat on the podium. Its “question and answer time”. There is a steady stream of good questions, and I try to answer them as clearly and as honestly as I can. I also try to keep it entertaining, so I make lots of jokes, and am VERY relieved when they’re still laughing. Some of the students come up afterwards and introduce themselves, and I’m glad for the individual contact. We take the stage again, and this time, the bassist and I turn our amps towards the ensemble so they can really hear us. This turns out to be the most nerve-wracking part of the entire weekend, and I fumble through my part (complete with memory lapses and missed entrances), praying that at least maybe they still think I’m funny. After rehearsal, Joe the bass trombone player, stops over to tell me that he really digs the part I’ve written – not the usual lame 3rd trombone part. Another of the band-members (Joey) is cool enough to invite me to hang with more students later on that night – normally I would eagerly accept, but since we’re staying out-of-town, I have to decline. Next time…

++++++++++ 5:00 PM ++++++++++

The other musicians have headed out, and Milt and I are running on fumes. Before we can have dinner though, we have to deal with the missing shirt. Milt, Nicki, and I buzz over to Polaris in “Suzy the Isuzu”, Milt’s faithful 4-wheeler, decked out with custom steel grill-guard (hand-welded by the conductor!), and almost 200,000 miles on the odometer. Milt and I dash into Saks 5th Avenue. Pickin’s are slim – ill-fitting, or too expensive for a musician’s budget. We dart into the mall, eyes shooting left and right for the next possible – J.C. Penny’s! Within 5 minutes I’ve grabbed a shirt (on sale for $17.99!!), and paid for it without even trying it on. After retracing our twisted path, Milt and I eventually escape from the mall. We adjourn ourselves to the nearest eatery (the ubiquitous mall-side Appleby’s), and the three of us spend the next hour getting to know one another. Milt is a real down-to-Earth guy – a deep soul and a dedicated educator, and Nic and I both really enjoy his story and his company.

++++++++++ 8:30 PM ++++++++++

Nic and I have just about flatlined when we get back to my grandmother’s house. We stumble through the door, and my Uncle Jim, Aunt Miriam, and cousins Ray and Mary have been kind enough to drop in to visit and play some cards. I’m very glad to see them. Nicki and I rally for the occasion -- crack a few Stroh’s, and settle down to lose some money. We play my grandma’s favorite game (7’s – a mixture of cards and dice), and I don’t win a single hand all night. I take this in stride, hoping that the windfall from this karmic ass-kicking will be a successful concert tomorrow afternoon.

OHIO WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY -- PART I

(start here for the full OWU experience)

++++++++++ 4:15 PM ++++++++++

The car is packed and Nicki and I are headed out of Chicago! We’ve borrowed our friend Carla’s car, and have both gone AWOL from work so that we can hopefully beat the notorious Friday-afternoon-rush-hour traffic… we’re headed to Bucyrus, Ohio to stay with my grandmother for the weekend, while I have rehearsals and a concert at Ohio Wesleyan University in Delaware, Ohio. I’ve practiced well the past few weeks, so I’m feeling pretty good about my parts. The conductor, Milt Allen, has told me that the band is really coming together. I settle into the passenger's seat with a huge stack of CD’s, keeping a steady supply of tunes playing, while Nicki drives. She’s totally psyched for this – the woman has been dying to go on a road trip for months, and I’m very glad she’s decided to come with me. With the prospect of meeting new relatives, a concert performance on Sunday, and whipping back to Chicago before work on Monday morning, this blitzkrieg is pretty much guaranteed NOT to disappoint.

The only thing I haven’t told Nicki is that she’s also guaranteed two things on a road trip with me:
1) we’re going to make a wrong turn or miss an exit, and
2) at some point, it’s inevitably going to rain.

++++++++++ 6:00 PM +++++++++++

I call my grandmother, and then call Milt, to let them know of our progress – we’re past Gary, Indiana and making good time. About now, I also realize I’ve left the shirt I was going to wear for the concert on the doorknob of my bedroom. Nice.

++++++++++ 7:45 PM +++++++++++

About 45 minutes after we’ve passed Toledo, we realize we’ve missed the turn. I break the news to Nicki that this is my fault -- it was bound to happen, and it’s also inevitably going to rain. She laughs this off. I’m not sure whether she’s taking the news very well, or she just doesn’t believe me.

++++++++++ 10:00 PM +++++++++++

It has (inevitably) started to rain.

++++++++++ 11:30 PM +++++++++++

In spite of the missed turn, rainfall, and a stop for dinner at the ubiquitous roadside Cracker Barrel, Nicki has gotten us to my grandmother’s house in excellent time. Much to my surprise, my 84 year-old grandmother is still wide awake and waiting for us! We spend about an hour chatting and have a Stroh’s (my grandmother’s beer-of-choice), and then Nicki and I head upstairs… to sleep in separate bedrooms. It takes a little time for me to fall asleep, and I consider getting up and practicing (there had been no time that day to even move my fingers around), but then decide that would simply be a neurotic waste of time, and roll over on my fold-out single bed and drift off to sleep, listening to the dulcet tones of a M*A*S*H rerun drifting upstairs from my grandmother’s television.