Ah, checklists… Having a job—particularly a 24/7 job as a city manager—forces me to be ruthlessly organized. There is a limited window into which to fit a personal life. Laundry done? Check. Column filed for the paper? Check. Business cards for the new job? Check. Software to load onto the city’s computer? Check. Packed? Mostly. Before I leave, I need to design and Acrobat a poster for the “Rockshop” bands’ concert, IF that’s going to happen—if it does, it’ll be next Saturday.

The ContraBand—Chuck on percussion, Fred on piano, Jane on fiddle, Kathryn and myself on guitars—played the contra dance at the White Clover Grange in Mohler Saturday night. (Jane did a neat banner advertising the band.) Like the old proverb says, when we were good, we were very, very good—and I’d only practiced with the rest of ‘em twice (and they’d only practiced together two or three times besides that). And of course, when we were bad, we were horrid—but we were only horrid a couple of times. The audience (around 50 people) appeared to like us.

I told people who were surprised at the turnout they were looking at a symptom of the Failed Economy. Just as in the last Depression, people are hungry for entertainment; it has to be local, and it has to be cheap, because that’s what people think they can afford. An organized dance at the local Grange Hall with a live band is ideal—and something nobody’s seen in a long time (but the old folks will remember them from the last Depression). It’s a market ready to be tapped—and whoever gets there first gets to grab a big piece of it. There’s a chance that could be us. (Deathgrass, too.)

And one of the things I wanted to prove with the exercise is I can be a musician, too. This is all instrumental stuff: there’s no vocalist to keep one on track—I have to follow the melody (being played mostly by the fiddle player), without being able to hear it very well, and deliver a strong enough rhythm line to keep the rest of the band on track, and signal chord and verse-to-chorus changes. It’s a bit of a struggle, but I think I did okay.

I talked to Jay the caller a little afterwards, and he said we did best on the songs the fiddle player was most comfortable with, because she was playing melody without hesitation. Those were the old fiddle tunes “Red Wing,” “Golden Slippers,” and “Bonaparte’s Retreat,” and a sweet little dance tune called “Mossyrock.” I concentrated mostly on bluegrass-style bass runs, trying to keep the “A” and “B” parts distinctively different enough so the others could tell (if they needed to) which part we were playing. Some of those bluegrass runs are pretty fast, though, and that’s hard to keep up for maybe eight minutes at a stretch—which is how long it took the caller to complete a dance.

Frank, who organized the contra dance, says he wants to do another one Saturday, 28 August, and a Waltz Night on Saturday, 21 August, both at the White Clover Grange; I don’t know if he’s told the rest of the band yet, but he did tell me. (The August 28 dance will not draw as big a crowd; there’s a square dance that night, and quite a few of the dancers at Saturday night’s contra dance were from the square dance club.)

Right now, the ContraBand only know two waltzes, and we’ll have to learn more. (I know quite a few, because I can play lead to most waltzes, but I don’t have music for them—music doesn’t really enter into what Tone-Deaf Lead Guitarist does.) We need to learn as well some more “contra-able” tunes—I’m told we should know at least nine to be able to do these dances real well.

The Bay City Centennial wants Deathgrass for 1-1/2 hours Saturday, 4 September; I have John, Chris, and Mike confirmed, and still need to contact Doc. Practices will have to be limited to Saturdays and Sundays, the only time I’m home from the new job. And John will be out of town the first couple of weekends in August. That means the setlist ought to be familiar stuff—no new material. (When will I get to introduce them to “Angel in Chains”?)

Joe