grenoble, france – december 1
morning comes. sleep has again delivered us.
this town is stunningly nested in the frence alps. i remember now playing here solo a while back and i can feel the previous lonesome memory of being on tour back then, which seems to be growing here in later years. when i was younger, the lonesome feeling had a high to it. it was a high lonesome, and it was comfortable and i was open to it and resolute in its drench.
now it is something akin to being a fathom and walking the earth that seems to spin noticeably slower, and feeling the weight of the load that is definitely heavier.
the sun pokes out of the clouds for a bit today. it’s cold and crisp and the NZ coat holds up well again. laundry gets done easily and quickly, which is always lucky touring in europe.
the venue is a small theater and run by fine couple of folks, the woman looking a lot like sheryl crow. but thr theater atmosphere begs of a piano that does not exist tonight. seems a shame. i head off searching for another electronic way to hook up this funky old italian organ we have, but stumble upon a treasure there instead. in the far back room of the music store, where they stash the older pianos, i find a small student piano that looks like it could actually fit in the bus hold.
lucie has is there to interpret. her french saves the day.
before long i have returned to fetch a chunk of tor money and then made it back to the store 5 minutes before closing to purchase that pup. we hail a cab and shove the thing in the back of it. when we get to the venue we are alone. everyone has gone off to eat. the cabbie helps me unload it. it is still a piano, no matter small it is. we set it down in front of the theater doors, and as i wait in the cold dark for someone to come by to let me in, i play it. there on the shadowed streets of Christmas town nestled between severely steep mountains i play that sucker like a christmas miracle.
later on stage, half of it has bent out of tune from the cold and the lug. but it looks great and the top half play magnificently.
the show could not be saved though. sometimes buying a piano and not being there for sound check proves its haphazard outcome. my magic blue pedal has died tonight. i am left to just play the songs without accessory. but 2 of the 3 mics in my set up are tasoring my lips everytime i get too close. the set loing shocks take their toll. i am in a bad way by the end of music.
it was a dead set. i gave it no life. we ambled through the routine of it, knowing that it cannot come to any magic.
and then i feel bad for the crowd’s smiles there waiting to be born. i get the job done, but no more then standard issue. i don’t exactly know how high up the latter that standard is, presumably up there a long enough way, but it’s the kind of night that drains me instead of fuels.
we pack up. i head off in the cold dark streets to shower at the ancient hotel. its 2 AM. i am gone and don’t see sheryl crow again or her partner.
back on the bus i am tainted. tired and tainted.
the conversation goes to dark place. we manage through it but it feels lonesome here with everybody around too.
it’s a deep set city in assembled in the shadows of great mountains.
- – —– – – — — – -