Well, the Friday night performance at the Kite Festival went surprisingly well. There were no professional kite callers Friday, it turned out—they weren’t coming till Saturday—so there was no tent on the waterfront. I played (my choice) in the old train station instead; it’s still open to the wind, but at least it was further away from the water.

Sam Keator's photo of me playing at the Kite Fest. (Thanks, Sam.)

Sam Keator’s photo of me playing at the Kite Fest. (Thanks, Sam.)

The Chamber folks said I could play earlier (there being no professional kite callers, and all), but I told them no—I’d said I was going to play at 6:30 (I had posters out, and everything), and I do what I say I’m going to do. I think I told people that several times during the evening—mostly in reference to the weather.

It was cold, and damp; it had rained earlier in the day, when I’d done a shift (outside, again) at the square dance club’s yard sale, and the sun never did come out—and like Sam McGee in Robert Service’s poem, I was not sure I would ever be warm again. At least at the gig, the guitar stayed pretty much in tune (a sure sign that the strings are due to be replaced).

What was surprising was there were actually people there—not a big crowd, but they were actually listening. I knew a few of them; most, I didn’t. A couple stuck around for the entire two hours, despite the rotten weather. And I made enough in tips to more than pay for my time, and I sold a CD, too.

Best? “Anatole the Vole” was a definite hit; so was “Perverts, Fornicators, and Loud Mouthed Women”; they liked “Pole Dancing for Jesus” and “Free-Range Person,” too. (The vendor guy who bought the Naked Album CD made sure it had both “Perverts” and “Pole Dancing” on it before he bought it.)

I did forget the words to “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” (moral—always practice all the songs beforehand), but I did a “save” by playing “Selling Off My Body Parts” (to which I did remember all the words, thankfully)—and then since I was going to be short of time in the second set, I played my Remaining Audience “Take Me Back to the ‘Sixties,” which I hadn’t done in the first set (I’d played “When They Die, I Put Them in the Cookies” instead because there were a bunch of kids around).

All told, it was good. Some of the vendors were complaining there wasn’t any live music during the whole 4-day Kite Festival except for my 2-hour show Friday night; I hope they tell the Chamber—and also tell the Chamber they liked what I did.

The inevitable question with gigs like this is, “Would I do it again?” I think the answer here is “Yes, but…” I have a Rule I try to live with, that says of course I will play your place for free the first time—I realize I am an unknown quantity as far as you’re concerned—but if you want me back, we should be talking about my getting paid.

Now, that doesn’t always happen: I’m happy to play free for outfits that don’t have any money (like the Pacific City Farmers Market), or with which I’ve got some kind of close connection (I’m on the boards of the Grange and Bay City Arts Center, for instance), and I’m happy if half the gigs I do are paying ones—but if you’re doing something “businessy” where your entertainment is bringing in business, you should be considering your entertainment a cost of doing business, and paying them. (And I don’t want to get a reputation as “Oh, Joe will always play for free,” either. Troubadours gotta eat, too.)

I did take care of the “I may never be warm again” problem, by the way, by taking a mega-dose of Vitamin C, and a long, hot shower, and going to bed with the electric blanket turned way up and sleeping for over eight hours. I hope I have avoided getting a cold out of this. I wonder if the audience will.

Joe