Happy Halloween!
Behold the results of last minute Halloween
preparation!
I played a Halloween gig Saturday and Nancy and I figured we would dress up, so Friday night we went out to see what we could find for costumes.
After slogging thru a few of the costume stores that always spring up in various formerly empty or failed drug stores, we bagged the idea of blowing $50 each on something crappy. Hell, we are perfectly capable of producing our own crappy costumes!
So, a couple shirts and a few yards of ribbon from Hell-Mart, a pair of ears, and 10 minutes of rummaging in the closet, and presto! we had everything we needed.
Nancy has a Spock teddy bear and I used it as a guide for the little insignia on the shirts. I cut it out of gold ribbon and we glued everything on in about an hour.
Nancy got up in the middle of the night and finished outlining with fabric paint, and we were good to go.
Total cost=$27
Saturday morning we spent a few minutes shaving off my eyebrows and cutting my hair, and then piled in the car to get to the job.I was doing the old murder ballads routine (Banks of the Ohio, Pretty Polly, Willow Garden, etc.) at the place where Nancy works, which is a huge victorian mansion in downtown Erie.
Despite my plan to be highly entertaining with murder songs and fascinating accompanying tales, it rapidly became apparent that Mr. Spock playing folk songs in the middle of Halloween brunch was a situation most audience members chose to ignore.
Repeatedly.
Three songs greeted with total silence drove the point home; background music was to be the role of Spock.
A logical conclusion.
posted by Brian at
5:53 AM
5 Comments:
Hi patrish,
The people were fine. Some jobs are just background music, and this was one of those.
About 25% of gigs seem to fall into this category, mostly yacht clubs and the like.
I'll take whatever I can get at this point!
By
Brian, at 2:14 PM
Hi Matt,
Saw the Dylan thing and Tivo'd it, so I watched it a bunch of times. The early days in NYC are my favorite.Anything after Blonde on Blonde loses my interest.
If you are bored sometime, rent a movie called Masked and Anonymous. It's a Dylan movie that he wrote and is in. Very odd, you either like it or hate it.
Careful with Dylan, next thing you know you'll buy a rack and a harmonica!
Next thing you know, you'll be playing folk songs on Halloween.
By
Brian, at 12:45 PM
Trick or treat is just about over in Harborcreek, and in keeping with tradition, I have had zero kids. Good thing I guess, 'cause we gave up buying candy two years ago.
Maxwell is asking for treats though. He thinks every day is Halloween!
By
Brian, at 4:56 PM
I was just thinking as I was sitting outside in the dark of All Hallows Eve; does anybody have an actual spooky story to tell?
Supernatural, that is.
Real life is something else.
Nancy has a good one about something she saw in her house when she was a kid, but I don't recall any stories from the Hunt family.
I can recall a stretch of nights in Ripley sleeping in the bottom (or top?) bunk and waking up at some ungodly hour and being absolutely convinced that something horrible was about to peer into the room. This feeling resulted in the strange situation of wanting to fall back asleep, and also wanting to stay awake to be able to act if something really did peek around the door and do who knows what.
Several nights I was certain that I heard footsteps going back and forth in the attic and once was so convinced someone was walking around up there that I actually got up and threw open the attic door and turned on the light, but waws too chicken to actually go up there.
Thats as close to a scary story as I can get.
Anybody else?
By
Brian, at 5:15 PM
Patrish,
That's funny about the ring.Never heard that, but I recall playing with 45 record,(probably one of Deb's)tossing it up and trying to catch it by sticking my finger thru the hole. Of course I missed and the record fell perfectly down a crack and disappeared. Never again would I hear Buck Owens moan about "losin' weight and a lookin' mighty pale and it looks like I've got a tiger by the tail".
My recurring dream was Nazi soldiers attacking the house, coming down from the grapes by Lewis'. I would hide under that little area under the stairs, but they always found me and would either shoot me or stick a bayonet in me. Somehow this never seemed to kill me, and enabled me to play dead until they left.
Weird.
By
Brian, at 5:50 PM
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