SHARING THE SHOWS
So it’s 6:26 in the morning, and I’m sitting in a booth at the Bay Coffee & Tea Company in the complex that is Tampa International Airport, still feeling the energy of last night’s show. I was glad the last day of the AP reading fell on a Thursday, the night Uncle John’s Band has their weekly gig at Skipper’s. When I returned to the hotel from the reading, to say I was dragging was an understatement. Reading hundreds of essays over a period of seven days will do that to even the most sanguine of people. But, to miss a show on this occasion would be, well, not too timely. I met Charles, Jessica, and our new friend Kevin over at the Convention Center, where we Ubered to Skipper’s Smokehouse, which resembles a beach shack, my kind of place. It even has its own mini-Shakedown, where I bought a cool bracelet and ring to bust out for future shows (sadly, I forgot to take the picture, and at present, they’re in my suitcase). But the proprietor is named Ahna Clark, and she’s traveled several countries to find all kinds of jewelry from different cultures. The bracelet I brought came from a South American tree called the Palo Santo, and she even hooked me up with a cool stick (also in my suitcase). Anywho, we met up with fellow readers Brenda, Brenda’s college friend Lee, Mark, and a couple of people who read AP Psychology exams. It’s rare but nice to be able to talk pedagogy at a show (although I do that with Judy whenever we meet up at Phish shows). Of course, I did get distracted by a roaming cat, and had to text the picture to Heather and Christina, my fellow crazy cat people (see below for some ultra-cuteness). Anyway, the instant the music started, I was on the floor. The first set went as follows:
During the setbreak, we discussed some of the essays we read (which I can’t print here if I ever want to see this particular bad again). As an ambivert, I had to walk around solo and get some pictures of the cool stuff at the site. Definitely a beach shack. I wanted to see some of the second set, but the setbreak was dragging a bit, and through talking to Charles, Kevin, and Mark, we came to a consensus it was time to go. I was pretty wiped and am waiting for my early flight out of town. After we Ubered back and parted ways at the Convention Center (“see you next year”) I chilled out in the hotel room and ate a toffee bar, a very unique pastry from a place called Toffee to Go, a bakery that specializes in toffee-based treats (gotta love that repetition of the word “toffee”). Liddy, my friend from college, took me there, and it’s now a must-go on future trips back. The pic’s a little blurry, but I was craving it, so getting the perfect picture wasn’t a priority (points for alliteration). Getting up wasn’t rough as I thought it would be; I always feel good flow energy after a show, and I love having the excuse to write. But I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Those essays will do it to a person, especially when followed by vigorous dancing and gyrating.
Same time next year!
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One key step in the renewal of my life to pre-pandemic levels involves the Advanced Placement reading I did in Tampa (see 6/6/2019), which went online for the two years we were on lockdown. But now that it’s in-person, I couldn’t not go. And the hours spent up to my eyeballs in student essays come with perks, one of them being Uncle John’s Band, the best Grateful Dead tribute I’ve seen (I don’t put in the same category as DSO or JRAD, who are in classes all their own). And hanging with Mark, Charlie, Rod, and Ryan was fun last time around. After two days of reading, I definitely needed some music stat, or as Jessica put it, flow. And part of the fun of the reading is getting to explore Tampa with new people. So being the natural organizer that I am (not-so-humblebrag), I entered this show into a Google Spreadsheet of events happening. Charlie got in touch with me about the show, and Jessica and Genesis contacted me separately. Genesis was cool enough to drive from Kansas City to Tampa for this, and even cooler for offering to drive out to St. Petersburg, so she and Jessica picked up Charles and me from the Tampa Convention Center, and we headed to 3 Daughters Brewing across the bay over in St. Petersburg. The venue resembled a rustic warehouse with wooden paneling, and the mood was vibrant, with Deadheads in the big room and the hockey fans in a smaller room off to the side (the Tampa Bay Lightning was playing an important playoff game against the New York Rangers, so the mood in Tampa has been, well, raucous). Many of the tables were set up like popular board games, such as Scrabble, Stratego, and Sorry! (that’s a nice slushy they serve in lieu of alcohol for us non-drinkers). During those moments before the first set, our group talked shop a bit; it’s a rare, but fun, occurrence for this cat to interact with other educators at a show and talk on an intellectual as well as a hedonistic level. But once the band came on, Jessica and I altered mindsets to get our respective grooves on. They opened with “They Love Each Other,” my least favorite Dead song, but they amplified in a way that still had me dancing to it. They followed that with:
We headed back to the table for set break; Charles pointed out a combination Dead/Tampa Bay Lightning shirt that read “If the Thunder Don’t Get You, Then the Lightning Will.” (Side note: when I saw all the Bolts logos wandering the streets of Tampa, at first glance, I thought they were the lightning skulls from the iconic Steal Your Face logos, and apparently, Jessica did too). After talking writing with Genesis for a bit, the singer beckoned from the stage, “Dancers, we need you,” and I replied, “That’s my cue.” Someone from the audience demanded “Turn On Your Lovelight” and the band responded with “Half step Mississippi Uptown Toledo.” Because we had to be sharp and focused for scoring at 8 a.m., we didn’t stay from the whole second set, but we did hear a rocking’ “Cumberland Blues,” an appropriate way to go out. On the way home, we listened to tunes perfectly fitting to wind down from a Dead show, such as Rhianna’s “Don’t Stop the Music,” Will Smith’s “Miami,” and Eminem’s “The Real Slim Shady.” I was amused by the animated fashion in which Genesis and Jessica grooved, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t bop my head a little. Due to the chaos that characterized downtown Tampa, Genesis dropped Charlie and I off near Franklin Street, and we parted ways. I winded down by watching the end of St. Vincent, that low-key Bill Murray dramedy, on Netflix, with some sugar-free York Peppermint Patties. Sleep came on well, but this morning was rough. But you don’t go to the shows we do without learning how to tough out the next day, which consists mostly of getting out of bed. All in all, a fun night, and even though I was exhausted most of the day, the music gave me a nice metaphorical spring in my step. For me, it’s a necessity in the midst of all this scoring. Hopefully, we’ll do it again before we leave Tampa. It was nice being able to write this while staring at palm trees in Ybor City. One must treasure these moments.
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April 2024
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