Back in Cascade Locks… The job interview went pretty well—prompting the question what I’d do about music promotion way out there in John Day, Oregon. You can tell it’s very isolated; the stores are all way bigger than a town of 1900 people needs, indicating the town serves as a market center for a huge hinterland. Any place that’s bigger is several six-packs away, as they say.

So—I arrive in town, knowing absolutely nobody except the city manager, who’s going to be my boss. I’m living out of a motel room for probably a month. What DO I do?

Well, first step, if the local newspaper does a story on me being hired (and it’s a little newspaper, and a little town, so they might, even though I’m not the city manager), I make sure the story says I’m a musician and songwriter, and looking for places to play and people to play with. (One newspaper reporter I told that to asked, “Are you sure you want to say that? You’re going to hear from all sorts of people.” My answer was, “I hope so.” And I did.)

Second step, even though I hate cold-calling, is to visit every one of the taverns and restaurants (and there are a bunch), and leave ‘em a CD, and ask if they have live music. If they do, I want in, and if they don’t, I want to encourage ‘em to think about it. I may not get a lot out of this effort except getting known around town—but getting known around town is an important thing I have to do.

Third, if there’s a music store—hard to tell in a town of 1900 people—DEFINITELY go there. The music store is going to be the clearinghouse and gossip center for all the musicians in the area, because it’s where they’ll go for strings and stuff. If there are open mikes, jam sessions, or even available venues and musicians, they should know. Then again, if there is no music store, that also says something about the Local Music Scene—namely, that it doesn’t exist, and we have to start one. (There is no local music store listed on the Grant County Chamber of Commerce Website.) That, too, is doable. It just takes more time.

Fourth, county fair’s coming up (it’s in August), and every county fair in Oregon has a Talent Show. Some, like Tillamook County, do extensive and well-organized auditions; others, like Union County, just set up a stage and audition whoever shows up. Since I do well attracting attention performing live, I need to be there. I (hopefully) get to meet other musicians, and hear about other musicians, and they hear about me.

Fifth, I’ll be only about a hundred miles (a short distance in Eastern Oregon) from Fossil, and the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival. I wanted to go to that this year anyway. No winning song this year (though it’d be nice if people remembered “Prehistoric Roadkill” from last year, and me)—just networking.

Sixth, there’s the Blue Mountain Fiddlers, which I’m still a member of; John Day is in their “bailiwick,” and they will be putting on at least one show there. And that’s not only an opportunity to network (and there are some Grant County members of the BMF), but to re-establish contact with some folks I haven’t seen for over a year—and to play. (Yay!)

UPDATES: No, I haven’t done any of the “gotta do” stuff. I did get the van back—busted timing belt (dang Ford motors!), so I’m now $1300 poorer ($750 for the belt, $200 for the tow, $300 for new tires—the old ones were dangerously bald—and $50 for the gas to leave town). Uck. So I’m back to doing squirrel repairs. One more graduation to attend (nephew’s fiancee), and two more jobs to apply for. Life may not be fun, but it’s at least busy.

Joe