 The Clarinet BBoard
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Author: Carol Dutcher
Date: 2005-03-17 20:04
I think I'm the only person that things like this happen to, but maybe not. I play dixieland in the Bay Area but not with any particular band, just like to jam and go to various meetings, etc. On Tuesday a gentleman trombone player who has his own band called and asked me if I could come over to a rehearsal at his house on Wednesday night. He said, we are going to play a gig on Sunday, so be sure and wear something that is royal blue that day. He said, I'll have song sheets, and a music book for you when you get here." I said okay, as I really do like his band. Husby printed out a street map on the computer and we got there on time Wednesday night. So when I walked in the door, trombone player said, "Who are you?" I said, "I'm Carol and you called me to come to this rehearsal and play clarinet." He said, "Oh yes, that's right. My short-term memory is not good." So as the evening wore on, and I do mean it was very wearing, he had no music for me, and he had no song list. The vocalist said, "It's always like this." Thanks to a little foresight on my part, I had taken my tape recorder, and recorded the whole bizarre event. I said to him, "Should I bring a microphone on Sunday?" He said, "Why are you coming on Sunday?" I said, "Because you wanted me to take so and so's place." So he said, oh we'll figure that out later. I said "are you going to be playing songs from your CD, because I have a copy of it and I could listen to that in the meantime and figure some things out." He said, "Oh do you want me to burn a copy for you?" I said, no I have one.
This went on from 7:30 to 10 p.m. at night and when I got home I think my hair was standing straight up on end. Now his band is very well known in the Bay Area, and has been around for many years. Where we are playing does not get big crowds, but nevertheless, I want to do a good job and not make a total ass of myself on stage. So here I am sitting, worried, fretting, and digging madly through my fake book, and wondering, WHY ME? WHY ME? Shades of the polka band when the accordionist would forget gigs or even where they were.
So be thinking of me on Sunday afternoon. I see a Valium on the horizon, or possibly a vat of wine pre-playing time. I'm not too sure what the trombone player was indulging in, but it must have been pretty darn good.
Happy daze!
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Author: Liam
Date: 2005-03-17 20:31
Hey Carol,
I'd say go play the gig and if it doesn't turn out well, don't take any offers from this guy again. I've played with some unorganized people and no matter how well they play, their disorganization takes away from the fun and also drives me off the wall. I'm already mad at this guy and I don't even know him!
Liam
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Author: Anon
Date: 2005-03-17 21:34
Kind of reminds me of the Simpsons episode where Grandpa says "Who are you?? Where are my pants??"
Hang in there!!!!
:-)
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Author: Steve Epstein
Date: 2005-03-17 21:48
"Hey Carol,
I'd say go play the gig and if it doesn't turn out well, don't take any offers from this guy again. I've played with some unorganized people and no matter how well they play, their disorganization takes away from the fun and also drives me off the wall. I'm already mad at this guy and I don't even know him!
Liam"
No, sounds more like dementia to me from Carol's description, not a guy with an organization problem.
In which case she should just play as well as she can, whatever sounds good, and look to the "competent" people in the band for direction. Whatever she does, whether he likes it at the moment or not, he's not going to remember anyway.
Steve Epstein
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Author: BobD
Date: 2005-03-17 22:46
Good luck Carol.....break a leg. Reminds me of my occasionally recurring dream where I'm sitting in the band at a concert and have not been to rehearsals for years........
Bob Draznik
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Author: clarinetwife
Date: 2005-03-17 23:00
Yeah, it does sound like that sort of dream except it's not a dream! I think the situation can be salvaged if there is someone who knows what they are doing in the group that you can follow, perhaps not the trombone player if he's on something My question is, will he ask what you are doing there when you show up and would he even notice if you didn't? Have you seen Finding Nemo?
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Author: ron b
Date: 2005-03-17 23:03
Hi, Carol:
I don't find where you mentioned whether during your initial ordeal you and he agreed on your pay. Make sure he spells your name right on the check or, better still (having been there done that more times than I like to admit), make sure he counts out the correct amount of cash.
From your previous postings here I have no doubt that you'll do a good job. And, just between us and the whole Bulletin Board readership, from your account of two and a half hours of madness I think you've already earned your pay. Good thing you have witnesses to your "encounter" [verbal contract].
- r![[cool]](http://test.woodwind.org/clarinet/BBoard/smileys/cool.gif) n b -
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Author: sfalexi
Date: 2005-03-18 01:49
Quote:
Good luck Carol.....break a leg. Just try to refrain from making it HIS leg [winkl]
US Army Japan Band
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Author: Carol Dutcher
Date: 2005-03-18 03:17
Well thanks to all you understanding musicians out there who have also "been there and done that." I thought about the "pay" today too after playing for one hour free (and fun) for a St. Patrick's Day at a Convalescent Hospital. So, when you are having a lot of fun, the pay doesn't matter much, but when you are going through absolute hell in a handbasket, then you start wondering, "What do I get paid here?" I don't think I'll get off the stage until there is money in my hand. That could be real embarassing to Mr. Out To Lunch Trombone Man. But I'm just the gal that could do it.
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Author: 3dogmom
Date: 2005-03-18 18:14
Are you sure he will notice if you don't show up? Not that I'm recommending being irresponsible, but, seriously, are you sure that there is an actual commitment?
Sue
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Author: pewd
Date: 2005-03-18 18:25
i think in this situation i'd want something in writing stating the renumeration amount and the performance date/time/location
-paul
- Paul Dods
Dallas, Texas
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