May 03, 2004

1:05 p.m.

The Name of the Bass

We kicked butt in New Jersey (help, I just typed "Jew Nersey") this weekend. The Morristown UU practically jumped out of their clothes, they were so excited. Particularly when we got onstage for the first set. I was using both hands to adjust my mic stand, so I had just loosened the top section and was extending it. Carol said, "We're so happy to be here," and immediately my bass strap, whose top hole unbeknownst to me had been morphing over time into something like an oval, let go from the nut and, as my hands were busy elsewhere, the instrument took a facedown dive onto the stage.

BWOHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!

This amazing noise, full of mindwarping harmonics from hell and testosterone-riddled undertones, went on for about ten seconds before I could safely let go of the mic stand and squat down to get my hands on the bass. By the time I'd reached it, everyone had begun to applaud enthusiastically.

"Rock and roll!" we yelled, and waved our fists in the air.

Aside from having to be VERY careful the rest of the night that the ailing strap didn't let go, it was a very funny and stimulating beginning to one of the coolest gigs we've had in months. Fortunately the bass was totally unscathed, and only went a little out of tune. We got a lot of jokes out of the incident and, well, it did manage to break the ice.

After the first song, I said, "I've had an epiphany about the bass! See, we have all these new guitars from Ireland, and we've given them names, but I've felt kind of bad that the bass doesn't have a name. Well, I've come up with it. 'Ginsu!' You know those knives that can cut through a can, but still slice a tomato? Well, this bass you can drop on the floor and it still plays!"

I guess I should do it more often. Our sales were greater than they've been in a while, and as it was a Saturday night and we were also playing a few songs at the Sunday service, the interim minister said attendance Sunday was a lot higher than usual.

We got not enough sleep at Carol's parents' house (which has been sold, and will close in August; we've stayed there more often since it's been on the market than ever before, for some reason) and got up early for 2 services. They were rather milktoast, I thought, but that's beside the point. Everyone was superb and very nice and they want us back next year.

Then we drove the 3 hours back to the band's house, and had an hour-long phone interview for an article that will come out in Dirty Linen in August. By then we were starving and exhausted, so I got to go home and relax and eat.

We'll do the interview portion of our promo DVD later this week, weather permitting, and Saturday, Chris and I are taking Carol out for a surprise evening, as a thank you for all the booking she's been doing. I got us tickets to see Andy Irvine and Niamh Parsons, and we'll go out to dinner. She knows something's afoot but we have given no clues.

Meanwhile there is laundry to do, and errands, so anything else will have to wait. Cheers.