Jury Duty Day 1

715a Left home for Clark County Regional Justice Center.

Metal Detector Line

750a Finally got to Fremont Experience Parking Garage on 4th Street. Four block walk to Clark County Regional Justice Center.

800a Stuck in metal detector line. Went quickly actually. Didn't have to remove my shoes but I did have to take off my belt. Huh? Note to self, don't wear a belt tomorrow.

810a Walked into the big jury services room late. Prob 300 people in here. Comfortable seats. Not too hot. Staffer went thru parking & brief on what's happening. Then showed a video going over procedure for selection. Best part was it was with Kim & Dana Wagner. I love those 2. Got parking validated. 

View from the 6th floor

845a First break. 

910a This is such a sham. We're watching a video about being a foster parent. Am I here for jury duty or to listen to sob stories about why I should be a better person? They're trying to recruit me. Ridiculous. Come up with a better system & stop wasting my time. "We're looking for men," she declares. Aren't we all sister. 

915a More sitting doing nothing. At the beginning I had an empty seat on either side of me. Now, because there is seating underneath the video screens I have a little man who sniffs a lot next to me. Bummer. It's kinda like being in coach and hoping, praying the person walking down the isle doesn't have the middle seat next to you. 

My (non-Mac)Book

930a I have a John Sanford book with me but I don't have the attention span at the moment to read it. Judging by the dog eared page I am half way thru it. Must have been left over from a flight a while ago. I started over with chapter 1. 

932a I'm starving. I was running late and didn't eat breakfast. Starting to get a headache, although I don't think it's from hunger. I think it's from the horrid cologne/perfume of someone sitting in the vicinity.

I can hear the person behind me tapping on a laptop. I should have brought my Air. 

935a It's gonna be a long morning. Three minutes since my last post. Might be time to put on Botti on the iShuffle.

940a My only saving grace is no one is trying to talk to me and aside from the couple sitting in front of me no one is really talking, period. How the hell did the two lovebirds get jury duty together anyhow? Don't tell me they met here.

Group 1 line-up

945a Line up not terribly efficient. Organizer just called the start and end number. We all have to line up numerically. Not complicated but there are 300 people in here. I think she said there are 65 people in the first group. Comical actually. I'm badge 220167. I'm seventh in line for the first group called. Hopefully I'll either get on a jury and my time will fly by or I'll get excused and I'll get to go home. 

950p Turn off your cel phones. Moving to elvators. Joe Downing is our marshall. He's jovial. Nice smile. Cracking jokes. "Hate this part," he remarks (waiting for elevator). Going to 10th floor. Going down first because elevator is so full. Trying to get 65 people up five flights in an elevator is kind of insipid. Being stuck in a packed elevator with strangers, not my idea of fun. When we were waiting for the elevator someone asked, "Should just take the stairs?" "Someone's liable to pass out halfay up," the marshall joked. 

View from 10th floor

955a View from the 10th floor courtroom lobby. Waiting for the other five elevators full of the first group to arrive. Twenty of us made it up five minutes before the next load dropped. 

1007a Everyone finally up. All lined up in front of courtroom 10c. It's like a firing squad going in to see Judge James Bixler in Department 24 District Court.

There's an older female attorney talking to her client. She looks like a scruffy Cathy Bates from that new Harry's Law tv show. Her client looks like a truck driver.

Courtroom 10C

1015a Marshall taking roll call again. Getting instructions. Walking into courtroom.

1015a Enter Juryroom.

1155p Break. Tried to get off jury. Judge indicated this could be a three week trial. I told the judge I have a trip scheduled on March 26. He said, "If we're still here I'll shoot myself."

1245p 40 minute break for lunch. Elevator is a joke so I walked down 10 flights of stairs. Paid $9 for a Capriatti's sub in the Justice Center. Not great food. Accidentally ate an onion. Note to self, bring a bag with lunch & gum tomorrow.

125p I took the elevator down to basement from first floor to take it back up to the tenth floor. Female lawyer commented, "Ya been here one day & you already know the tricks." 

Nice view

130p judge said be back by 125p. Marshall just let us back in. Round 2. We're only thru one person voir dire. Already went thru dismissal of a dozen people. I wasn't one of them. I'm middle row, 2nd seat from my left. I'm guessing that means I'm juror 7 but who knows.

535p Wrapped for the day. No preemptory strikes today. We still have two more out of twelve jurors to voir dire. 

600p Home. 

If I Could

It occurred to me today that it might be interesting to document my experiences not only at Botti concerts but with my experiences at work in the Grand Garden Arena. As a part of my job I get access to things that most people think, "If I Could only..."

This Saturday we have Eric Clapton with Los Lobos. We've had Clapton before. I'm not a huge fan so I don't think I actually saw any of his show last time. I'm going to try and make an effort to sit in on all the shows in the arena this year, at least for a couple songs - stop taking it for granted. In truth for most shows after we open doors I usually go back to my office and work on upcoming shows or conventions, maybe go grab some food at Seablue or go chat with my tour pals. I usually walk the floor a couple times during the main artist's performance to check isles, make sure the staff is ok, give a little nod to tour security to make sure everything is coolio in their world. I might hang stage right for a little while and look back at the audience for a bit. Feel the vibe. I go upstairs to the concourse level to the arena mix position just above section 19 for a great view too. Many of my concert pics I post on Twitter are from that angle. 

So far I haven't heard of any meet & greet requests for Clapton. I never understood the appeal of the meet & greet until I got my own with Botti last December at the Blue Note. Well, kind of. I used my connections to connect with Botti's tour manager Jeremy Plotnikoff. Had a guy call a guy who called a guy. I thought I was being so cool and 'inside' by getting it. Little did I know that Botti does meet & greets with EVERYONE. He literally announces from the stage that he's signing autographs in the lobby after the show. While I'm immensely appreciative of all the efforts of several people to make mine happen, it really didn't, not in the traditional sense. I was one of many who stood in line to grab a photo with Botti - and was beyond thrilled about the opportunity. For the first time though I felt like a total idiot, like, "Ugh, Amy. You're one of those people who annoy you at shows who use their connections to get to an artist when no one really gives a crap about you." But everyone, especially Jeremy, tried to make it special.

But now I get it. Now I understand the butterflies, the speechlessness, the timid eye contact, the endless phone calls, emails and texts about where to be, when to be there and what to do. Now I am much more sensitive to the m&g'ers I take back to artists. For most of us this is one of the coolest things we will do (that we can show off on Facebook & Twitter). At my last show one of the guys who met George Strait actually took out his cel phone and asked George to talk to his sister (I think it was his sister?). As if in slow motion we all saw it happen but before we could stop it George had the phone in his hand and was graciously talking to the gal on the other end. George didn't quite know how to end the conversation so he said, "Talk to you later." I thought, "No you won't." But it was still cute. For those of you are thinking of trying this stunt, don't. It won't turn out as pleasantly. But hey, I gotta give it up to him. It was ballsy and it paid off.

One of the things that continues to impress me about Botti is that he even does these m&gs with his fans. People ask me all the time, "How can I get into a m&g with 'so-and-so'" and the only thing I can tell them is they have to know someone. And really, for most artists, it's true. You've either gotta be rich, be a celeb yourself, have a friend who knows the manager/band/record label or have a friend like me who's gonna call in a favor to get you in. Some bands do them with fans but you usually have to buy a premium VIP package or win a contest. At least those m&gs are still with the fans.

I've done probably hundreds of m&gs with artists, sports stars & celebrities and rarely have I seen one who connects with his fans like Botti. Most of the time it's a quick picture and the artist barely makes eye contact. They run 'em thru like cattle. The meet & greet is the obligatory evil of their success. But Botti takes the time to listen to his fans when they tell him anecdotes that only really matter to them. It's no wonder he's got fans who have seen more than 100 of his shows.

Michael Buble connects with people when he meets them like Botti. Maybe it's the genre of music. Maybe it's just a coincidence. The last m&g I did with Buble he mingled with his guests. Mingled. Like a friggin' cocktail party. He took pics, had conversations, shook hands, hung out. It was crazy. Seeing him appreciate the enormity of this moment for the fan yet recognize the silliness of simply taking a pic with him made me like him more.

I hope we've got some m&gs at Clapton on Saturday. I'd like to make someone's day. Considering I got stood up last night and I have to report to jury duty tomorrow morning, I think I need the karma. 

History Repeating

It's amazing how quickly we can fall back into old habits. Counselor stood me up. I fell for his bullshit hook, line and sinker. I should have known better. It's all just a little bit of History Repeating. 

I've Got You Under My Skin

It's Friday night with no events in the Grand Garden this weekend so I'm taking advantage of some down time. Just me & George Bennett watching Dateline with my MacBook Air on my lap catching up on some work.

My home phone rings around 9.30p but I don't answer it. I never do. There are only a handful of people who have that number and all of them know better. About 20 minutes later my cel rings and it's the lawyer or 'Counselor' as I like to refer to him. I was once in an uncontrollable, ridiculous, torturous, maddening, outrageous, delicious love affair with him. When it ended I knew I'd recover but I would never be the same, never approach love with that kind of reckless abandon and lack of judgement. Diving in head first may be for some people but I learned the hard way it's not for me. I'm far to calculated, guarded and (sigh) fragile.

I haven't really spoken to him in years and then out of the blue - poof - there he is. He was calling from my happy place, a great restaurant called Seablue. (I used to joke that my friend Leslie and I were like the Norm and Cliff of Seablue. You could always find us at the end of the bar by the well on any given night after work. In our defense it is just steps away from our offices at the arena.) While I think of it as MY favorite place on earth, Counselor and I did have some great times there too: me a cucumber martini, him a Beefeater Gibson straight up. He said he begged the bartender to give up my cel number. Note to self: Kill Bill.

The conversation was short and sweet. One of those, "I was just thinking about you" calls. He asked me out to dinner tomorrow. He knows I love sushi; I said yes. I probably shouldn't have but I do miss my friend. And let's be honest, I've Got You Under My Skin Counselor. I always have. I'm just not sure it's the same anymore. Two years ago, hell one year ago I would have given a lung for him to call. Now all I can think about is why wasn't it M who called instead.

Glad To Be Unhappy

Today was a long day - not length-wise but width-wise. I found myself sitting at my desk responding to emails and not remembering what I was typing - totally distracted not thinking about anything and thinking about everything. Autopilot. Kind of like when you've got something on your mind when you're driving home and you realize you don't remember how you got there.

The inspiration of a topic isn't coming to me so I think instead of forcing it I'll just call it a night and try again tomorrow. In the meantime check out Glad To Be Unhappy. I wasn't a John Mayer fan until hearing him sing this. Pair that with Botti and it's a sweet lullaby.

list of songs i'd like botti to record

Gran Torino
Gentle Rain
History Repeating
But Right Now

Gentle Rain

Why is music so powerful? Why does it move us? What is it about the combination of certain sounds that evokes such a physiological and impassioned response in us? 

I was watching the tail end of American Idol tonight and wondered. Lots of the kids were great singers but what makes them great? Then beyond that what makes the song they sing, in the way that they sing it transform my mood or alter my state of mind? Why do I feel heartbroken when I hear Diana Krall's Gentle Rain? Every single time. I didn't get my heart broken by anyone and cry my eyes out to this song so I shouldn't have any sense memory of it or equate it to any kind of pain. Listening to it now it brings me back to a place I've never been. Like a memory of a dream I've forgotten the moment I wake up but the glum and sully are all right there at the surface. What is that?

What is it about Botti's music that draws me to it? Yeah yeah yeah, he's cute. Get over it. That's not it. Is it because I am rediscovering it at a time where the temperament of his music fits the disposition of my life? I knew about Botti long before he dated Couric and made the beautiful people list but even then his music didn't resonate with me like it does now. Why now? 

Here comes the classic chicken or egg question: Do I like Botti's music because it brings back memories of the places I saw him live or do I go see him live because I like his music? I guess that's part of what this year is about - to discover that music, much like life, is all about timing. Timing of a perfectly placed note in the clef.

My Favorite Things

These are a few of My Favorite Things:

Wireless anything
White Castle hamburgers
Dill pickles
Perfect tears
Neutrogena Sesame Lotion
Dental Floss

Both Sides Now

It's hard to see things from another person's perspective sometimes. I don't understand why people can't let go & move on. I really don't.

When I was at the University of Minnesota my senior year at Delta Gamma we all named our rooms. There was Mango Jam named after Mel & KK's favorite college band, Cook's Room which was in the basement, the uncreative Presidential Suite, the Quad & the Triple. Oh, and the Pit, which literally was a pit. I named mine ADMO after a sort of mantra I came up with in college. Accept it, Deal with it and Move On. ADMO. I still try to live my life that way. I get hung up on the "deal with it" part sometimes but mostly I have no problems letting go and moving on. In fact sometimes I let go and move on a little too easily. Don't get me wrong. I can hold a grudge like nobody's business but I don't think holding a grudge and moving on are mutually exclusive. I think you can do both.

I'm so full of disgust over being force-fed a particular situation in front of me that it's affecting everything around me, everything about me. It's so ridiculous and out of my control that I've worked myself into madness. It consumes me. Ire is seething out of my pores like scotch after a night of binge drinking. I've become the person I loathe. I'VE become the one who can't let go and move on. It's funny how life has a way of flipping things around on you. I see Both Sides Now. I get it. I understand the lesson. Time for me to let it roll off my shoulders like some of the idiotic complaints I get after a concert, have a good laugh and ADMO. 

Gran Torino

Right now I'm listening to this great young singer from the UK named Jamie Cullum. I discovered him on the credit roll of the Clint Eastwood's movie Gran Torino. I fell in love with his voice & the way his fingers roll across the piano. I envy people who can play the piano. When I was young I played the flute. I was pretty good for a kid but I didn't have aspirations of running away with the orchestra beyond sophomore year of high school. At that age it wasn't cool to be in the band or orchestra so I opted for science & calculus. Yeah, much cooler Amy. I also took French instead of Spanish. Another colossal mistake. As an adult it's nice to know a romance language but really, how often does someone at a party ask, "Anyone know how to play the flute and translate Le Petit Prince?" Ok, well there was that one time in college but I was drunk.

I'd love to hear Botti play Gran Torino with Cullum backed by an orchestra. The song is so purposeful. One of my favorite lines: "Your world is nothing more than all the tiny things you left behind." So true. 

02.19.11 Chris Botti @ Powell Symphony Hall - St. Louis, MO

02.19.11 @ 7.30p - Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis, MO 

Chris Botti – Trumpet

Billy Childs – Piano

Mark Whitfield – Guitar

Billy Kilson – Drums

Tim Lefebvre – Bass

Lisa Fischer – Singer

Caroline Campbell – Violin

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, Timothy Muffitt – Conductor
Jeremy Plotnikoff – Tour Manager

Special thank you to Dean Minderman of St. Louis Jazz Notes for the shout-out!

Since this blog is called the Year of Botti I should probably give some details from some of his actual shows.

Powell Symphony Hall

Doors opened at 6.30p. I left the Hyatt Regency St. Louis at the Arch at 6.30p. This was another one of my quick 24 hour trips so on my drive from the St. Louis airport to the hotel I drove by Powell Hall to check out the parking situation so I wouldn't be searching in the dark. Right down the street from Powell Hall is Fox Theatre and lots of other little arts district theaters and restaurants. There are lots-o-plenty all around the St. Louis University campus. I paid $7 and parked in a lot behind the theatre. Parking was a snap. 

I took a couple minutes to walk across the street from Powell to snap pics of the exterior. It's one of the old time Orpheum-style theatres with a vertical marquee. It matches the others up and down Grand. 

Foyer of Powell Symphony Hall

The building has one public entrance right off of Grand. There were 3-4 ticket scanning lines. The load in was quick. No issues. They had scanners more advanced than the ones we use at the Grand Garden. That was kind of embarrassing. Something we had in common: the age of the usher staff. That seems to be the case worldwide. You enter the Powell directly into the main lobby. It's filled with people mingling, merch stands, full bars. You can tell this is a symphony hall just by looking at the glasses in people’s hands. How many champagne flutes do you see being clinked in salut at an arena? The lobby is ornate with a brocade three-story ceiling complete with crystal chandeliers. It's not very big but I think the capacity of the theatre is only around 2,200 so it doesn’t need to be.  

View from the third floor balcony

Before I even got on a plane to St. Louis I followed the St. Louis Symphony on Twitter @slso. I like doing that because sometimes it gives me inside tips or a quick route to communication with the venue. The day before they tweeted back "Check out 2nd level Met Bar - salvaged from Metropolitan Opera house in New York during 1986 renovation." I tried but unfortunately it was closed for a private reception. I went up to the third floor and snapped a pic of the view from the cheap seats. Cool shot but I wouldn't want to see a show from there. It's not that you're far from the stage, but the pitch is pretty high. I wonder what the sound is like up there. The staff there was incredibly friendly and accommodating. 

I hit the restroom around 7.15p on the second level. They were clean, ample, nothing fancy but they did have auto flush, sinks & towel dispensers. It's the little things that I appreciate. I didn't have to wait. When I went to check out the ladies room on the first floor the line was about 15 deep.

7.20p I took my seat. I was in Orchestra Center, row E, seat 105. Pretty much dead center. Great seats but my location did have a downside. I’ll get to that later. I was a little worried about being in the middle but I forget that orchestra halls aren't like arenas. They actually have comfortable seats with individual arm rests and plenty of legroom. When I got to my row the first thing I saw was a woman with a cane and three people next to her. I felt bad for making her get up so I could get to my seat; clearly it was challenging for her but she was gracious and all the folks smiled as I shimmied by. 

Seated next to me was a lovely couple in their 60s from St. Louis. They were well traveled and didn't seem to be worried about their 401k savings plan. We made small talk about Botti. "Oh who is that other guy who's got the band? He's from New Orleans?" she said. "Wynton Marsalis," I offered. "No, not him." "Harry Connick, Jr?" "Yes! That's the one. You're good!" she said. Little does she know one of the last HCJR shows I saw was about 15 years ago when I followed him around the country too. Botti's not the first artist whose music inspires me to travel. I had the bug as soon as I turned 17. I think that's how old I was when I went to NYC solo to catch Harry. Somehow I even worked out a backstage pass for a meet & greet. Looking back, knowing what I know now, it's kind of impressive that I made that happen. Anyhow back to Botti. 

The average age of attendees was probably 60. Lots of older couples, a few younger ones. More single women there together than younger couples I think. That's a testament to how friggin' cute Botti is. I count myself among the throngs of females (and males I'm sure) who think he's gorg. I'm not too cool to admit it. Hey, he's figured out that being talented may make you good at playing the trumpet but being talented AND good looking sells tickets.

At about 7.30p the lights dimmed and the orchestra started warming up. After a brief schpeel from someone from the St. Louis Symphony hyping their upcoming events the lights went dark and the conductor, Timothy Muffitt, came out. Just like the Live in Boston DVD the orchestra starts without Botti. It's a slow, soft crescendo building for Ave Maria. Botti comes out quickly and here we go. First two songs sound pretty identical to the DVD - Ave Maria rolls right into When I Fall in Love. Following is his lovely rendition of Time to Say Goodbye (Con te partiro) and it was spot on.

Flamenco Sketches isn't my favorite but it's fun to watch how athletic he gets when playing runs or squeaking out those impossible high Cs and Ds he’s famous for. He's squats and winces and looks like he's passing a kidney stone. Botti's got two colors: pasty white and beat red. It just depends on what note he's playing. 

Hallelujah is a fan favorite and once you hear it you know why. It's a short, simple duet with Botti and Mark Whitfield on guitar. Known more popularly as the love theme to Shrek (he often jokes) it's his interpretation of this Leonard Cohen composition that is moving and makes you wish it lasted longer. 

Botti and Fischer

Next out comes Lisa Fischer. She's toured with the Stones and several years back won a Grammy for Best New Artist. When you hear her sing you know why. She's like Chaka Kahn meets Diana Krall mixed with a little Winans. Controlled power with such silky smoothness. The Look of Love is one of my favorite songs but honestly I wasn't grooving on this version tonight. It was too fast. Seemed like the orchestra tempo was too fast and Lisa was struggling to keep up, forcing it. I think if they'd slowed the pace a little you'd get to hear more of her sound. And Christ does she have sound. 

Next up was a pulse break to bring out violinist Caroline Campbell. She's strikingly thin, like ridiculously wafer thin, but gorgeous. She reminds me of her violin bow. Botti & Campbell play Emmanuel almost verbatim from the CD. 

At 8.35p intermission. I was surprised actually. The two shows I've seen previously he played straight thru. I'm not sure if it's because the orchestra needs a break or if they do that considering the age of the audience or because that's just what you do with a symphony. Either way it was fine. I got to stretch out a bit and catch up on my notes on my CrackBerry.

We're back at 8.55p. He starts the second set with my favorite part of the show. The Very Thought of You was my favorite song long before I ever heard of Chris Botti. A friend of mine from eons ago, Peter, bought me a CD that changed my life. Coltrane & Hartman on Impulse label. It's simply put the best vocal jazz CD. Botti changes up this tune a bit and makes it something unique to him. Lisa Fischer joins Botti for this song and what makes it unforgettable is he has the audience snap along. I know it sounds corny but they bring the tone down, volumes down, mood down and it changes the place from grandiose to intimate. At the end of the song Lisa stops singing, Botti stops playing and all you hear are the faint seven notes of Mark Whitfield's guitar and 2,000 people snapping. Every time I hear that I get chills. It is my single most favorite part of the show. It’s what keeps me coming back to see the same set time an time again. I don't know why. But it does. I doubt I'm alone. 

Lisa stays on stage to sing Italia (of Andrea Bocelli fame). She goes down about two octaves from where she normally sings. Back to my earlier comment about the good & bad of my seat. Here's the bad. Because the speaker clusters are set for the 2/3rds of the audience that are not seated in the middle the mix we get from Lisa's mic is kind of washed out, bounced around from the room. It's audible but not nearly as clear as if you'd heard her at the Blue Note in NY. But she's still phenomenal. 

Botti applauding Campbell

Caroline Campbell is back out to play another Botti fav the love theme to Cinema Paradiso. Ok, another Zopfi Truism: Cinema Paradiso has been one of my favs since it won an Oscar for best foreign film in the year I graduate high school. The song playing over the credit roll (Toto & Alfredo) is what I want to play as I walk up the isle hand in hand with my new husband at my wedding. But I digress. This version of Cinema Paradiso is clearly the best sounding song of the night, both stylistically and acoustically. Pure Ennio Morricone. This one got me choked up. 

Botti is great about sharing the stage but he clearly knows people paid $100 to see him not the band. He’s managed to have a great balance knowing when to let others shine. He stepped aside to let Caroline show off her stuff. I don't know a lot about the violin but I don't think you have to in order to see how talented she is. Of course her model-good looks and thrashing about on the stage doesn't hurt either. I think of her as the Monica Seles of the tour. She grunts a little when she's playing. It's quite a juxtaposition to see this delicate woman writhe with such power & command. Quel sight. 

Botti spectating Kilson

Billy Kilson, drummer extraordinaire, is up next with his solo as a part of Indian Summer. I'm not a big drummer fan but this guy is something special. I’m sure he’s technically one of the best around but what makes him such fun to see is are his expressions. He makes the corniest, best faces! It's almost like he's taking a shit sometimes or wincing in pain. That, paired with his gum chewing, like he's biting the life out of it is so comical but somehow fits into his whole persona that you don't even notice it after awhile. Botti calls Kilson the reason he received Sting's initial kudos because apparently Sting's a drummer snob. I think Kilson would be fun to hang out with. He looks like that kind of guy.  

Carol with Kilson on the drums
Plotnikoff as backup

Last song before the encore is Nessun Dorma. It's one of the most popular operatic tunes around. A couple weeks ago Botti performed in DC and former Chief of Staff Madeleine Albright was invited on stage for this very song to play the drums with Kilson. He mimicked this tonight by bringing up a woman named Carol. She and her husband Bob were sitting in the front row and were the subject of Botti’s crowd interaction several times throughout the night. She got on stage and rolled what would have been the timpani for the end of Nessun. It was a fun little audience participation moment that was better for Carol than the rest of us. I'd prefer to leave Nessun to the professionals. Save that gag for a campier song. 

Botti & Childs, My Funny Valentine

Finally after standing ovation (when doesn't he get one?) he and Billy Childs remain to play one final song. There was a comical exchange just before the encore. He excused the orchestra and said, "I know some of you wanna get out of here and go hit the bar." They didn't get it. He mockingly looked at the audience and said, "They don't trust me." Slowly one woman stood up with her violin and then another and another until they all got the picture that he wanted them to exit the stage. It was one of those unplanned, unrehearsed moments. Botti & Child's My Funny Valentine was so delicious I didn't want it to end. Almost acoustic. Soft, sultry, just the way I imagine Miles playing it.  At 10.00p the ovations were over and house lights went up.

Fans lined up 4 deep around the foyer

The night ended like most. Botti announced he was signing CDs in the lobby after the show. The theatre unloaded at a pretty quick pace but once I got to the lobby there were several hundred people wrapped everywhere. It was a bit unorganized but people were very considerate. That’s the difference between a Botti autograph signing and a rock band one. Sophisticated, upscale crowd. The staff did their best to snake the lines and make sure everyone got their turn. They even announced that Botti was only “signing” right now but if you stuck around after everyone had gone thru the line he’d be happy to take pics then. What musician of Botti’s stature does that? Yes, I realize many people haven’t heard of him and it’s not like he’s selling out the O2 but come on. That’s pretty remarkable. He does this for every show.

Doing his own meet & greet by the merch table was multi-Grammy winner Billy Childs. He's remarkably humble and soft-spoken (and on Twitter @billychilds). He's the kind of guy you want to be your neighbor. He'd let you know there was a FedEx at your doorstep so that someone didn't steal it. Caroline Campbell was there mingling with the fans too. If she weren't a violinist she looks like she'd be a ballerina - or maybe a yoga instructor.

Year of Botti: Show #1

I bought my overpriced CD filled with songs I’ve already downloaded from iTunes just to get it signed. Then when it was my turn to get my picture taken I asked if he’d hold up his finger like “#1.” He didn’t even question it. Just did it. I said, “It’s because this is the first of many shows I’ll be at this year.” He said, “Really? When do we see you next?” “San Fran, no wait, Riverside first.” “Oh right. See you then.” The guy knows how to connect with his fans. 

For photos go to my Facebook photo link.

Emmanuel

10.30a Delta flight 3223 from SLC to STL - In the forward cabin are 6 people: a doctor or nurse (not sure which). He’s in scrubs and has a jacket with “Critical Care-something or other” emblem on the chest. The doctor (I’m pretending he’s a doctor because nurse would kill the fantasy) is closer to my age, prob mid 40s. Rugged good looks but not too good looking. Good hair. Good jeans. Good shoes. He’s got a warm smile. I like that. Shows he’s not a narcissistic asshole. I bet he’s good with patients.

Behind the doctor there’s a 50-something business man in a white mock-t. Who the hell wears mock-tees anymore? Actually my dad does and I make fun of him too. Ugh. I hated those when they were in style in the 80s. And it’s cream colored. Oh god. I just noticed his belt is fabric and has bears on it. I think they’re Grateful Dead bears. I only know that because of Mel and KK. At DG they had those damn bears plastered everywhere in their rooms. I wouldn’t know a Grateful Dead song if they played it at my wedding.

The guy in front of me is about 50ish too but I can’t really see his features. He’s like me though and takes advantage of the extra space in the empty seat next to him. I take that back, we’re not alike at all. He’s got a little spiral notepad he’s writing on, tearing off sheets and crumpling them. Dude, get a 21st century notebook.

First class isn’t full at all. Out of 12 seats only half are taken. The guy across the isle from me is, wait for it... in his 50s. I’m on the flight of middle aged, white men. He’s got his laptop out. He’s probably pretending to do work like me because neither of us can get a signal and we both know it. He looks like he’d be an engineer. Earlier I saw him reading documents that looked like engineering drafts.

The last person in the forward cabin who is actually seated in the 1^st row is a service member, full BDUs. I saw him out at the gate and again as he passed me to go to his seat. After the cabin doors closed the flight attendant escorted him up to first class. I’m sure they do that a lot but the gesture made me appreciate the goodness in people. It also made me feel grateful to be an American (press play on Proud to Be an American), that I was adopted and naturalized as a US citizen. Granted if I weren’t adopted I’d never know how good or bad my life is in comparison but the thought of it helps to keep my massive ego in check. But I’ll save the whole “I was adopted” story for another post.

Back to the serviceman. He’s just a kid – maybe mid-20s. If he weren’t in the military he’s probably end up just like one of the 50-somethings sitting in first class with him. Hell, he still might and I hope he lives long enough to do so.

On a flight back from Negril, Jamaica almost exactly a year ago I met another service member at the airport. Steve McCarthy. I bought him a beer and told him he could share my table. Before you start thinking I’m a do-gooder, everyone in the bar bought the guy drinks. My table just happened to have an empty seat. We started talking and he said he had 5 days off so he was gonna go live it up in Vegas. He’s like 22. I asked stupid civilian questions like, “What’s it really like over there?” as if he could ever explain it, especially at an airport bar. He eventually started to tell me about what he did. He was part of the squad that deactivates IUDs à la Hurt Locker although I never saw the movie so I can’t say for sure. A couple of things stuck with me from that day though. He said they tricked out the tank or whatever it’s called with an espresso maker, iPad dock and toaster oven. I thought that was very iM.A.S.H. of them. When I asked what service members need/want the most in care packages over there he said, much to my surprise, socks. White tube socks. “You can’t imagine what having a pair of clean, soft, cushy tube socks does for you out there.” It makes sense. I just kept thinking, “I’m talking to his kid and in 7 days he could be dead.” I would never know and maybe not care. The point wasn’t the actual loss but the realization of the randomness & finality of life with everyone, not just people you love and care about. Anyhow, being me I hooked him up with some shows and Vegas stuff. He had a good time. I still get emails once in a while from him. Reminds me, I should send him one when I get settled in. I am sad for the day when I haven’t gotten an email from him in a while and realize why. 

Hallelujah

I love traveling. Every bit of it. The skill of packing the perfect suitcase, fitting everything as it should be, in place. No space wasted. The passthru of security checkpoints. Plan it right and it's effortless. The feeling of floating when you get that grove on the moving walkways and having the perfect tempo to not break stride when it ends. Waiting at an empty gate across from the one I'm soon to board. 

I have my ear buds in. I never take them out even when the flight attendant does the final cabin checks. My long black hair masks the wires. I have my Shuffle clipped underneath my ponytail. It doesn't get picked up by the TSA scanners. I love that.

I've amassed some frequent flier miles that have survived the many mergers. Getting upgraded to the forward cabin is still an adrenaline rush - not so much because it's elitist but because it allows me to focus less on bumping elbows with the person next to me and more on the forced meditation-like state we all enter. 

Botti's Hallelujah is playing; a smooth and haunting music massage. I've got the volume loud but it's not harsh. You can hear a breath before the muted trumpet begins. It's so intimate, like a whisper in my ear, the way jazz was meant to be heard, meant to feel. 

It's a 3 hour flight from Vegas to Minneapolis. I've taken it hundreds of times but this time is different. I'm different. There’s a subtle but significant change visible only to my mind's eye. There's a sense of urgency I've never had before. There's so much to say but how do you begin. I love you and I'm grateful for you seems so unremarkable. He's deserving of better words, words I am not capable of producing out loud. We have that in common. 

As we take off, I close my eyes. Maybe if I keep them shut time will stand still and the plane will never land. I'd gladly circle the earth, suspended, if it bought him more time. Of the 3 of us, he's the strongest. No one notices that. 

I feel closest to him when I'm traveling. He taught me when I was very young how very small the world really is. He has a fearless curiosity that affords him the luxury of experiences. I'm envious that curiosity comes so naturally to him. 

A million memories pop up randomly like flipping through a magazine - nothing specific, just quick glances. Once in a while my mind will land on one and then it’s gone. I don't keep track of the details; I remember the feeling of that day, that Thanksgiving, that Christmas. The events aren't the memories, the feelings are. The feelings keep me full.

I drift off but eventually the wheels screeching on the runway jerks me back to here, inside the plane. A startling reminder that sometimes hope is not enough. That everything has a beginning, a middle and an end. There's beauty in that I'm told.

My exit from the plane is swift, controlled, patient. And as if right on cue Botti's Hallelujah is playing again only this time it's the live version so I can't hear his breath anymore but I can feel the weight of the audience listening with anticipation, wondering what's next. Me too.

Un día, una mariposita estaba volando en el jardín. PERO, de repente sus alas se rompieron y cayó, hacia la muerte. For David Charles.

Just In Time

I finally got it. The MacBook Air. Just In Time for my trip to St. Louis. It's so sleek, sexy & portable it makes me want to write, travel & create. I think it makes me a better person. Ok, maybe not. Jay hooked me up with lots of goodies & software. My roses are still alive. George Bennett didn't chew the bear. And I got the Delta upgrade. Things are looking up!

Tomorrow We'll See

Saturday can't come fast enough, not just because I'm going to see Botti with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra but because I'm escaping for awhile. I want to get lost in the monotony of an airport, in the excitement of a different city, in the fantasy of being illusive in a hotel bar. I realize this is all very Up In The Air but it's true. I miss traveling for work. A lot.

Technically I should be at work on Saturday night. We have Linkin Park with Prodigy in the arena but I'm opting to take a night for myself. Actually I bought the ticket and booked my travel long before Linkin Park hit the schedule but it wouldn't have mattered. The arena will run just fine without me. And the fact that I'm missing the Linkin Park & Prodigy: icing.

But before then I've got a lot to do - like getting my new MacBook Air. I guess Tomorrow We'll See if it arrives. FedEx, hurry up already!

What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life

I'm sitting here reading ridiculous emails from work and I think is this all there is? Are you really gonna keep being frustrated by inane people, ridiculous requests and only use 12% of your actual strength? Are you really gonna spend another year being introduced, "This is Amy. She handles all the ushers." Is that all you've accomplished? Is that all you're worth in people's eyes? Is this what you've been reduced to? And the worst part is I've let this happen. What the hell happened?

This past year has been full of change. I got a wake up call in January 2010 from Doc Johnson. Diabetes. Turn your life around or you won't have a life to live. So I did. I stopped drinking, stopped smoking, stopped eating crappy food & started exercising. Cold turkey. A complete 180. It's been great on me physically. I've lost upwards of 35lbs, normal cholesterol, blood back to pre-diabetic levels. As my endocrinologist said, I'm the poster child for Diabetes care. But now I find I've got zero tolerance and zero patience. I drink a gallon of friggin' water a day and I still feel full of this septic emotional sludge that just keeps building and building like a mudslide. Maybe it's this city. Maybe it's work. Maybe it's the people outside of my inner circle. Maybe it's me. Maybe before, all of my inner toxic crap was diluted among the Chivas, Dunhills & Big Macs and now that those are all gone, all that's left is this super-concentrated orb of bitterness and loathing. Ok, that was a bit much. I'm not that dark. I'm not Hunter S. Thompson. But come on. Find the joy. Find love. Find yourself. You're gonna be 40 this year. What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life?

My Funny Valentine

Ok, so My Funny Valentine is an obvious choice but I can't always be clever.

I'm not terribly distraught about being single on Valentine's Day. Today started off as just another Monday I took off after an event. Weather was great in Vegas so I took George Bennett out for a long walk. I used to hate taking walks; I remember back in college Terri used to try to get me to walk around Lake Calhoun all the time. Now I find my walks are critical to keeping sane and insulated from the mindless ass-kissing that goes on at work or the tireless self-examination of what my life is in comparison to my friends. Aside from the obvious physiological benefits, at this stage in my life the walks provide so much more. When the sun hits my face and I can feel the rays laying a soft glow of tan I think of it like a layer of protection, like a shield from the stings of criticism, rejection, pity & disdain. It doubles as an insulator to keep the insecurities, self-loathing & monstrous ego inside... well most of the time.

Late in the day my phone started ringing. Caller ID said work. I was already in the middle of reading idiotic emails and thought no way. Not answering today. Leave a message. Luckily they did. It's funny how a phone call can change everything. It was the bell desk saying I had roses waiting for me. I'm not going back to the office for a couple days and I was dying to know so I called to see who would have sent me flowers. I thought maybe my parents. Hoped they were from M but why would he send me flowers today of all days. No signature but a note that left little question it was him. It would be great if this was the start of a great love story I could read to my grandkids but experience tells me it was nothing more than a lovely gesture from a good man - so that's what I'm going with. Nothing wrong with a lovely gesture. 

Why Not

2011 is The Year of Botti. It's the year I hit as many cities as I can following the sounds of Chris Botti's trumpet. Truth be told this journey is less about him and more about my life and where the music takes me. Botti is a means to an end, not the goal. The experiences I have make up the soundtrack of my life. Someone may as well write it, Why Not me?