SHARING THE SHOWS
It was a relatively quiet Tuesday at the office, which gave me a chance to get ahead on planning next week’s lessons. It also allowed me some resting time to psyche up for Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets. They were supposed to play at the Anthem last January, but COVID delayed that. Fortunately, Pete informed me of their delay last spring, and I thought, why not? If you were to ask the average person about their experience with Pink Floyd, I’m guessing the answer would revolve around The Wall, Dark Side of the Moon, or Wish You Were Here. The average or casual fan may not be aware of their earlier stuff, particularly the tunes in which Syd Barrett was involved. The Metro ride was an interesting one. A bunch of young women doused in glitter talked about their musical experiences, with Lizzo. Last semester, one of my students discussed how Lizzo is a symbol of female empowerment and body positivity. I support that cause wholeheartedly through my other writings, but tonight, I just had to have my Floyd fix. The Green Line brought me across the street from the Lincoln Theater. I had been there once before with Ellen, when she came into DC for the Society of Neuroscience Conference. We saw John McLaughlin and Jimmy Herring perform there, and it was quite the show. When I got inside, I was doing the “I really have to pee” dance. Once in the bathroom (two urinals and one stall), the line went in a swirl, very appropriate to tonight’s genre. Here’s a rudimentary sketch of how it went: I had gotten a solo seat up top, but there were some empties next to Pete and his crew, Darryl, Mike, and Ernie, so I was able to hang with them for the show. Here’s the setlist. The ones I knew instantly upon hearing:
Obviously, I haven’t listened to enough early Floyd. But this experience has ruined Floyd tribute bands for me. I’ve seen Australian Pink Floyd, The Machine, and Brit Floyd, and they all brought it. But their repertoire included mostly the well-known tunes, and I got a helluva psychedelic experience tonight. I don’t think I can see those other bands again now. Thanks Nick! All half-joking aside, Mason made what appeared to be some passive-aggressive comments toward Waters. “Roger beat the hell out of that song,” he mentioned before the band played “Set the Controls…Sun.” In the second draft, he joked, “No politics here, you don’t have to go to the bar,” which was met with appreciative laughter. This was an allusion to Roger’s declaration last month that “if you don’t like my politics, you can fuck off and go to the bar.” Two thoughts. First, the longer I distance myself from the Waters show, the less I like it. He jammed out, of course, but I wanted a show, not a political lecture, even if our views are aligned (I get enough of that discourse through conversations at work, as well as in my classroom). Ernie and I discussed that at setbreak. Secondly, I had a question: did Mason and Waters get along? I Googled and found an interesting article indicating intraband conflict. Yep, Roger is a dick. But the music is great, particularly the early years, and I’m definitely Team Nick. The Metro ride was home was nice (again, right across the street from the Lincoln). I recapped the show with a dude, and got to see all the Lizzo fans chattering excitedly after their show. The night closed out with an episode of WKRP in Cincinnati before my head hit the pillow. I’m writing this during some down time in my office, and I am feeling the burn. How the hell I do this? Oh well, four more nights till the next show. And a big shout-out to Bob, who I missed, but took some incredible video. Check out his channel, BobJGoPro, for more.
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Round One: 9/16/22 I had been waiting for the Panic shows with intensity because those the five I saw at Beacon weren’t enough. I might have gone down earlier on Friday to hike with Pete earlier, but I tell my students that 5:00 on Friday is the last point at which I check my email, so I figure I should be fair. But once 5:01 came, I was out the door. I took the Green Line to Southern Avenue, the farthest I’d ever taken that line. Dinner was a quick tuna sandwich on the train. Technically, I’m not allowed to eat on the Metro, but the way I see it, if people can fare-hop (jump the turnstiles) and not have the agent say anything to them, I should be able to nourish myself. Anywho, after a wait for the NH1 bus to the casino that felt like all day, it arrived and I got to stare at the shopping malls and single-family homes that comprise Prince George’s (PG) County. Once in the building, I met Pete at this outdoor enclave by a restaurant called Tap. This area has a beautiful view of the Potomac River as well as the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, which brought back memories of 3/16/19, when I drove Maggie’s car from Nicole’s house in Arlington to the venue. The neverending traffic sucked, although coming up with the “Cheesy String Band” was a fun experience, as was the show. After shooting the breeze in breezy weather (pun intended), we got into the show at about ten to eight, where I ran into Kenny (7/25/22) and Sharon, and we talked a bit. During my previous two times at MGM, we were on the floor, but when Pete and I ordered tickets, I mistakenly thought the seats up top were cheaper. But it was just as well, I love looking down at the stage from up top. The show was intense. They started off with “Give,” which I had never seen (or even heard) performed live. Later, they would bust out “Sometimes,” which was also off Don’t Tell the Band, my first WSP listening experience. I was enamored to hear “Bear’s Gone Fishin’,” my favorite. The full setlist and stream can be found here. The highlight was the “Trashy/Junior” encore, during which Pete and I grooved behind the soundboard in order to get a jump on exit traffic. This is the ideal place to be. Lots of room to dance. As I wrote the songs, a woman asked me, “Are you taking orders?” I gave her a card with this site written down. Hope you’re reading! Pete dropped me off at the Metro. I enjoyed a quiet ride back. Once home, I turned on a DVD of WKRP in Cincinnati, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Round Two: 9/17/22 I was groggy as hell this morning; the show life is not for the faint of heart, particularly if you’re in education. My students have a weekly journal due every Friday night, so I get up early every Saturday to grade them. Mark got to my place at around noon, and after lunch at the nearby Farmer’s Market, we Metroed/bused to the casino, where we met up with Pete. We had a wonderful hike at Oxon Cove Park. Pics below: After getting some steps and cardio in, we had dinner at TAP, a spacious sports bar with games all over the place. I ordered ribs, and Mark said, “Hey, maybe they’ll play some Ribs and Whiskey.” They didn’t, but I played the drums with my rib bones (no pic) after the meal was finished, so that was something. After walking around the enclave, we headed in, and just like on 3/16/19, it was a disorganized procedure to get in. There was some confusion over whether we needed to get wristbands (Pete and I didn’t, since we were up top), but we eventually got in. I saw Kenny and Sharon again, and I met a cool local dude named Matthew and Ken from Philadelphia (not a big Panic following in the City of Brotherly Love).
The band’s start time was later than usual (8:26). I called the opener, “Pleas,” when talking with Mark about predictions. In fact, they did an alliterative first set: “Pleas,” “Pigeons,” “Pilgrims,” and “Porch Song,” along with some other older tunes. Night Two of the three-night run is typically a mellower affair, and in this case, the first set was comprised of their poppier repertoire: “The Waker,” “This Part of Town,” “Walkin’ (For Your Love),” and the closer “Ain’t Life Grand” (with JB on mandolin). A nice story behind “The Waker”: On 6/30/19, when Bob and I saw them, they encored with it. They had only played it twice in the past twenty years, and now, it’s becoming more regular at their shows. It’s one of my top ten. The band picked up the tempo during the second set, and the highlight was a mash-up of Leon Russell’s “Stranger in a Strange Land” and Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.” “Halloween Face” rocked too, as did “Impossible.” “Blue Indian” was a curious second-set closer; it’s usually more of a “winding down to the end” song, but I dig it just the same. Encore: “May Your Glass Be Filled” is a gem of a song: a good message and beautiful harmonizing. “Action Man” was the perfect, rockin’ way to close the show. On our way back to my apartment from Metro, we ran into a woman from my apartment building and talked to her on the way home. I then drove us to a nearby gas station for munchies, which we consumed while watching WKRP in Cincinnati. We both crashed at about 2. The next morning consisted of breakfast at the Cracked Eggery and a walk up Van Ness Street to gawk at the tiny multimillion dollar homes (it’s DC). As I write this, I feel like a zombie. I know they say “never miss a Sunday show,” but in this case, I’m happy to live vicariously through Ken and all the other heads who either don’t have to work tomorrow or are willing to go in grogged out. Closing: Mark is responsible for my affinity for Widespread Panic. I had seen them a couple of times in the early 2000s, but when he and Drew/Brometheus brought me to the Altria in 2016, I was hooked. And it was downhill from there, and then came this blog. He also got me the “Bear’s Gone Fishin” T-shirt I wore to the Saturday show. Closing #2: Today, September 18, is the start of National Unmarried and Single Americans Week. It’s thanks to me being single that I can go to all these shows and maintain this blog. Check out thehappybachelor.org for the blog posts I write this week. This is the C-Man signing off (a nod to the Z-Man, the famous taper, whom Mark met last night). This blog post is dedicated to my father, Joseph Lionel Wynne, who passed away on September 10, 2012, ten years ago.
I was looking forward to this weekend, not just because of the show, but because Season 5 of Cobra Kai dropped on Netflix. After a morning spent grading student journals and in a virtual meeting with Doug, Christopher, and Heather about a national Community of Single People conference, not to mention weeks of running myself ragged with the return of in-person teaching, as well as shows, I was ready to lie on the couch like a zombie and binge the whole season. I had gotten up to the season’s penultimate episode before 8:00 came, an hour before showtime. I bought the tickets, so I was committed. I downed a Coke Zero on the Metro ride to give myself a boost. When I walked in, I chatted with a dude named Ian, who had come in from Annapolis from the show. That’s dedication (although it does bring me back to my 20s when I used to travel from an hour from Suffern to New Paltz, NY to see a cover band called Reckoning). The band started with “Promised Land,” and that four-count beat from the drummer always signifies “Shakedown Street.” I talked to a woman named Janet and a dude named Brad, and I learned that this guy who’s playing the harmonica in the audience (8/1/22) goes by the name of Rich. Brad and I talked about songs on the bottom of our Dead preference list. His are “Victim or the Crime” and “Lazy Lightning.” Mine is “They Love Each Other” (the slow version) and “Standing on the Moon.” They rocked on “Saint and Circumstance” (with a curious absence of “Lost Sailor,” which usually precedes it) and followed with “He’s Gone,” Johnny Mac’s fave. There was an amazing jam on “Samson and Delilah,” and the set closed with “Bertha.” Since the venue does allow people to return after leaving, I took a walk around the Waterfront, and saw couples on dates, groups partying, and a few solo travelers like me. I love the diversity of DC. Set Two started with “Cassidy,” “Goin’ Down the Road Feeling Bad,” and “The Other One,” which had an amazing jam. I had committed to taking off at 11:30, which is about when I start to fade from shows anyway. On the Metro ride home, I was entertained by drunk American University (AU) students, and I capped off the night by capping off Season 5 of Cobra Kai (it was a great season, but without spoiling it, I’ll say I think they should end it after one more season; I could think of some minor rewrites that could end things where they are). One commentary: traditionally, the Grateful Dead has appealed to white audiences. So I love it when I see People of Color rocking out at shows. I met a black guy, Justin, who was rocking out in his tye-dye and dancing harder than anybody in the place, me included. There was also a person who looked to be of Indian or Pakistani heritage dressed in tye-dye, and also having a good time. This music knows no boundaries. Back to the couch now. Today’s blog post is dedicated to my friend, Kathy Hetrick. Happy birthday; glad you got to celebrate with awesome tunes and even better company! Well, my tenure packet is in, so now, all I can do is wait and hope for the best. After a day of meeting with students and running around campus, I was looking forward to heading back to Falls Church. I got there at about ten after seven, and the band was still setting up, so I walked around town. A dude in an SUV, sporting a Dead T-shirt, pulled up to ask where he could find parking. I got in and helped him find parking (“strangers stopping strangers to ask for directions”). He introduced himself as Dennis, and he’d moved from California at about the same time I did. I had planned to stay outside the barricade like I did at Jehovah’s Favorite Choir (JFC), but as the band opened with “Touch of Grey,” I was greeted by Kathy, whom I met 11/8/19. We’ve been friends on Facebook ever since, but this was the first time we finally got to connect. Thanks to her, I was able to sit at a table and be with the upper echelon of DMV Deadheads. Through her, I met a bunch of people. The ones I remember are Sally, who works near where I live, at American University. There was also Rick, the lead singer from JFC. Wendy from Takoma Park. Woody from Fairfax. Neil. And many others, who I’m sure I’ll see again. Along with the band of course. The setlist went as follows:
Touch of Grey Aiko Aiko Cumberland Blues Ramble on Rose Friend of the Devil (slow version, complete with fiddle, and a perfect time to sit down and indulge in some birthday cake) Jack Straw Dancing in the Streets Promised Land Hey Pocky Way (my highlight of the night) I Need a Miracle China Cat Sunflower into I Know You Rider Playing in the Band Throwing Stones Turn On Your Lovelight Sugar Magnolia It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue I love hearing bits of conversations, which give me ideas. The one that stood out the most went like this: “I walked by and just heard Dead playing, so I just came in. I probably look like a straight.” This person was dressed in a button-down white shirt (open-collar) and black slacks. Essentially, he looked like a Wall Street bro who was down to party after a day of wheeling and dealing. I thought, it doesn’t matter how you look. As long as you’re having fun! There was also a dude wearing bell-bottoms, as well as a handkerchief over a shirt. That’s the great thing about our tribe; we have no rules. It was nice meeting some new people. As Pete told me after reading my last blog, “For an introvert, you talk to a lot of people.” It’s hard not to at these shows. But quiet time on the Metro going home was much-needed. And I’ll get to do it again Saturday! And next weekend. And a couple of weeks after that. And the weekend after that. And after that. And after that. And then a break for a few weeks. And then, well, more. When I woke up this morning, feeling around for my shoes, I didn’t INTEND to go to this show. But it popped up on my Facebook, and well, YOLO. After a day of teaching and navigating through the bureaucracy that is higher education, I scarfed down a quick dinner and hopped the Metro to East Falls Church, from whence I walked to Clare & Don’s Beach Shack, which is now my new favorite small venue to see a show. Just look at the aesthetic: I walked in as the band was wrapping up “They Love Each Other.” I had seen about five minutes of Stealing Liberty’s performance at a skate park in downtown Silver Spring, Maryland last year before meeting up with a friend for dinner. Next was “The Race is On,” which I’ve never heard a cover band perform, and I’m pretty sure I’ve only heard it on Reckoning. “Mexicali Blues” was next, followed by a super-funkified “Candyman.” “Mister Charlie” jammed, during which a dude named Kurt who was visiting his folks from California. A professional snowboarder and bartender who travels at will, this happy solo is now one of my heroes. He also recommended their 6/19/93 show, during which Sting opened for them. One of the things I love about meeting older Deadheads is learning about cool shows. There’s also a Colorado Phish show from 1991. “Bird Song,” “When I Paint My Masterpiece, and “US Blues” closed the first set.
I walked around Falls Church during the setbreak, and came back to “Cold Rain and Snow,” followed by another rarity, “The Other One.” During “Brown Eyed Women,” I met a dude named Neil, who lives right down the road and could walk. Now that’s the kind of convenience I loved about the Boathouse. Another guy, Andre, was sporting his Nationals gear, and we talked baseball for a bit. The crowd was light due to Grateful Dead night at Nationals Park. I think I got the better deal (cost of Metro and a tip to the band, plus the $60 it would have cost just to see the band before the game). “Truckin” rocked, and “He’s Gone,” Johnny Mac’s favorite, was on next. Another pair of surprises “Smokestack Lightning” and Bob Dylan’s “Queen Jane Approximately,” came next. After this, I headed home; my back was hurting, and I had forgotten my brace. My thought, when did I get so old? Thanks to delays, it took about an hour and a half to get home, but books provide excellent company. And The Simpsons did as well, rocking me to sleep. |
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