Deja vu all over again

Thursday December 13, 2012
deja vu all over again
I wake up in roughly the same position I woke up in less than 2 weeks ago,  and with the same other people in their same positions. Suitcases in the same locations. One would think we make diva like requests when reserving hotel rooms, so that no matter where we are, we know were everything is. No, "where are we anyway?" is asked quite early in the day, as early as we could, with slow inching open of the curtain to let in small bits of light, to not shock our delicate systems. The view is interesting, sharply pointed brown mountains, chain stores and paved roadways. We were last near a major North/South interstate, now we are accessable near a major east/West interstate.  We take turns investigating the plumbing, and I know I needed a good dose of sudsing and rinsing, and repeating to wash off the jet lag.  I feel like I was at that 12-12-12 concert, with sore muscles, ringing ears, and the nagging feeling that I was near someone famous, who sings some song I can not recollect right now. since silver platter room service was not included, we find a place to partake of morning sustenance, and strong coffee, that did not live up to it's promise.  I needed a nap after all that caffeine, but also  needed to vacate the room, so I was stuck. We found a place to wander around for a few hours, I resisted temptation to spend money, as I was actually not tempted at all, and the lack of funds to pay for what I didn't need finalized my decision.
What does one do when one doesn't have access to a fluffy bed? and has nothing to do for a few hours? One finds a seat near a tree, and reads. And people watch. Amazing people here, of all sorts of shapes and sizes, some really tall, some not tall at all, some smilng, and some with a scowl as they go about their way, no noticing the lovely surroundings. They might be more accustomed to this  than I am, cacti and palm trees with Christmas decorations is new to me. I do not get out much. last December I saw Christmas in England, this Year, in the Southwest, amazing the places I go. So, a boring afternoon turned into an interesting afternoon. I even gave people directions, as if they new and trusted me to tell them the right thing.
On to the Show. Once again, I find myself in the vicinity of pensioner musicians in search of an audience, and how can I refuse? They follow me everywhere. The Evening arrived dark, and drippy, with a soft rain.  It rains how many days a year out here in Phoenix? and me without and umbrella, as seriously, who packs an umbrella on a trip to the desert? someone much more prepared than I, it seems. Or someone afraid of melting if they get too wet, or near a flame.
Flat, straight roads, flat, flat, without even a crack or pothole in the pavement to give the ride any excitement. The ride is longer than I expected, as the Metro area is one big sprawl, with no definition between cities, Scottsdale, Glendale, Tempe, Phoenix, Mesa, all the same to me. The Venue is a modern clean looking facility in a small plaza on a city street, the area not too dodgy, hotels, motels nearby, within walking distance, if one was prepared with an umbrella during a rain storm in the desert.  Once again, the Venue is following the practice, of keeping the patrons milling around in a limited lobby area, to purchase drinks and merchandise, with the lines extending outwards, snaking around; one makes new friends this way, squeezing past, to get to the restrooms.  Speaking of which, were extremely well lit, with modern, bowl like wash basins, but extremely dark at the stalls. Do they feel women do not need to see what they are doing in the cubicles? My eyes hurt as they contracted suddenly as I emerged from the dark stall to the bright washroom. And they continued to hurt as I viewed the audience for tonights musical revue and audio spectacular.
At first, I was gladdened to not be seeing the same faces as I had left behind, on the Atlantic Seaboard oh so many days ago, as I didn't wear my same face either. Did see a few familiar faces that I remember from other adventures to this area, and a few faces that I have seen all over the world, and those were the most friendly. I did see others that were decidedly not friendly, but familiar. Were they that surprised that I was here? and what were they doing there? Escaping my scrutiny? Didn't work, I saw you, and I saw you avoid my glance.  I saw ladies dressed in renaissance fair wear, and if anyone thought that was me, shame on you. I saw a few surgically altered faces, being a nurse I can spot non natural skin folds, and the tell tale scar hiding hair style gives it all away. I know, you wonder how I can appear in public looking like me, but luckily, I do not have to look at me, just like me. There was someone in the front row in dirty ill fitting clothes, and unwashed hair. Now the natural look is a lifestyle, one, I choose not to embrace, but since when did they run out of soap in Mesa?
 They finally let us into the venue itself, and I find my seat.
The hall itself is a large open modern facility, of pale wood, with a hard wood floor, making walking in heels a bit difficult, for those of us mobility challenged. The Stage is low, about bosom height, if one has my bosom, and enough foundation garments on to keep the bosom off the knee caps. The lights are higher up than usual, this being a more modern facility than some of the grand old theaters we have been in, and the Band is fairly close to the edge of the stage. I watch as people go to their seats, or to seats in wich they wish to seat, and made valliant attempts to stay in them for the entire show, despite sucurity asking tme to return to where they belong. I had a seat, not in the front row, in the second, but was so close to the stage, closer than some front row seats at some venues.  I am aware that there were a few complaints from back in the 7th or 9th row, that rude people were standing in the front, I can assure you that I was no ruder than normal, part of my new plan to be nicer to people, and since the folks on the stage have known me longer, and better than anyone else at the concert, including my anonymous room mates, I made an executive decision to be appropriate in the standing songs.  Also, there was one person that kept flinging heavy rings onto the stage at the guitar players feet, then retrieving them, doing this over and over, eventually the rings got lost in the strange fog of life. She was escorted away after a while. I worried for the less agile of these fellows, as they danced around; it took some of the fun out of the night worrying, but no one got hurt, thank goodness. One ring to rule them all? Some of the audience members did have a hobbitty look to them.

The Concert
The Show began, and the mix was off. There were no feed speakers for the front, and the hanging banks of speakers were quite high, and pointed out towards the audience at the mid and back of the venue, leaving the front and orchestra pit uncovered. The microphones were off for the first two verses of Gemini Dream, so unsure if any mystery verse occured, but at the spot where often one can chose which singer to listen to, both were singing the same song.
The mix remained off to my ears for the majority of the concert, but I didn't mind much, I had flown thousands of miles, paid for a ticket, lodgings etc, and expected something better, but I got what I paid for, a concert. From my seat, I could hear the unamplified vocals, and the guitar feeds from the Fender and marshall stage speakers, and the acoustic drums, not the digital cymbals, and little bass or keyboards, made for a different auditory experience. There didn't seem to be the wow factor, either, perhaps everyone is tired? or my menories of just a week ago are enhanced by the exaggeration of memory. Not that it was a bad concert, my brain was able to fill in the missing bits, and I enjoyed hearing the bits I usually miss, and to the general audience, it was a good show, just not the concert I expected, perhaps I expected too much, or had jet lag, either way, it was noticeable to some.
As I have said, if you want a good concert, be a good audience, and if you want a good audience, be a good Band.  There was effort, it fell a bit flat at times. But everyone tried.
There were some lyrical interpretive dancing, most of which was on display the first half, with hand gesturing that appears as if offerings were being made at some religious ceremony, very distracting, and I would have been upset, too if that was in front of me, taking something away from the night.
The missing verse of IKYOTS was in, for those who lack the courage, but No one knows its gonna happen, or feel it coming near.
We Drifted wood, and there was no other side of life to investigate.
NIWS was lovely, but no heat or heart, and Question was rushed. The whole concert felt rushed, like Atlantic City felt two weeks ago, but RMSS redeemed them in my eyes, as a certain bass player saw fit to bop me off the head with his headstock, always fun.
A trot along wet pavement, and a drive to our anonymous digs, the people of Phoenix do not know how to drive on wet pavement, and off to sleep, and even though we went to bed early, I bet we were awake longer than rock stars.
I still don't have a cold, and neither does anyone else, despite some lingering evidence, and we smelled nothing. Phoenix is remarkably odorless.