Jun. 13, 2003
Rope Tricks at Twilight
Sometimes, life as an artist seems like the only possible option for a rich and rewarding life. These moments, for me, help to counteract the times when quitting music and watching a lot more TV seems like the only possible option for a calm and peaceful life.
On the last day of the Renaissance Festival, a bunch of the performers were packing up, cleaning up, having a drink or two, and getting ready to go to dinner. We were a group of professional and semi-professional musicians, jugglers, and their significant others and children. I was just about to get really impatient that no one was leaving yet when someone told me that Matthew Trautwein of The Lost Boys (and of modern rock band Karma Lingo) was about to do some Texas rope-skipping on the Halfwit Harbor stage. It had been revealed to the entire cast of the Renaissance Festival a few weeks prior that Matthew had this hidden talent; he'd been called up to the stage during a morning meeting to show us his prowess with a length of rope. I had heard him speak of having been in a boys' choir that incorporated rope-skipping in his childhood, but actually seeing him do it was nothing short of amazing. If you don't know Matthew, you have to understand that he's 6'2" tall and that it seems almost impossible that he can squeeze his entire body through a spinning circle of rope. But he can! Multiple times! It's pretty darn cool.
So anyway, it was getting late, and I was tired, but I couldn't resist the lure of seeing Matthew perform his rope-skipping feats again. We all trudged out to the empty benches and watched as Matthew described and demonstrated the tricks that he knew. (Matthew being Matthew, he still practices these. At one point during all of this, Allison turned to me and said, "Man, imagine how much time every day Matthew must spend just practicing all of these various things that he does." I said, "I know! He actually practices all of his instruments, so that means that he has to find the time to practice guitar, violin, keyboards, voice - 'cause you know Matthew actually does the vocal exercises that I'm too lazy to do every day - and, apparently, Texas rope-skipping!" Amazing.)
It took quite a while for Matthew to get through all the tricks, describe the kind of rope he uses and how to repair it, and answer questions from the audience. By the time he handed out ropes to the Zucchini Brothers and to Tuey (the professional jugglers among us) so that they could try it out, it was starting to get dark outside. Allison, Derik, and I sat in the fading light, watching as first the professional jugglers and then the other three members of the Lost Boys tried to get the hang of it. Allison turned to me and said, "You know, I wonder how many other people are doing this right now." I cracked up laughing; she was so right. Most of America was at home on Sunday night, watching whatever TV show comes on at 9:00 these days, while we were sitting on the benches in front of Halfwit Harbor, deserted but for us, watching a musician teach professional jugglers how to do rope tricks. As Allison pointed out, the jugglers were talking shop, but the "shop" consisted of statements like, "When I do the Nerf trick, I really have to extend my..." or, "The time I accidentally set my hair on fire...."
I wish you all could have been there. It was so much fun and, in a way, strangely poignant. Like being in a theatre after the set's been taken down, knowing that even with the photos and the stories and the memories it inspired, the experience of that production of that play is gone forever. I was with some of my favorite people in the whole world, and I felt complete and content, as though nothing were missing from my life. As though I'd made it through all seven exhausting weeks of the Renaissance Festival just to be there at that moment on that night. And it had been worth it.
Now it's time to say good-bye to that life and switch back over into the constant chaos of Lindsay Smith: Story of a Singer/Songwriter. I'm trying to get all of the basic recording for the new CD done by July. Which gives me three weeks. Ack! And then I have to figure out and put into place all of the pieces needed to properly promote the release of the CD. Ack! And then I have to figure out whether I can pay for it all. Ack! Eek!! Arrrrgh!!!
But I'll figure it out. I may have to make some compromises on the way; there may be some things that I just won't be able to do. It's a little stressful; the first CD, I did mainly for fun, without knowing anything at all about the music business. I've learned a lot in the few years since then, and now I'll know exactly everything I should be doing and exactly what I'm not doing and exactly what I'm doing wrong. I know it's not like I've got this one chance and that's it, but part of me keeps hearing Debbie Allen in my head going, "You want fame? Well, here's where you start paying. In SWEAT!" I'm worried that I haven't been sweating enough, that I'm going to drop the ball. (So what do I do about it? I give up on researching various PR firms and radio promoters because it's so overwhelming and do a Goober Diary entry instead.)
Hey, if you come see me at the Park Tavern in Piedmont Park on Sunday, July 6th, I'll be your best friend. I get to play as part of the 99X Unplugged in the Park series (I'll be the opening act, but I don't yet know for whom). And it's all because they played "The Queen and the Soldier" by Suzanne Vega on Organic X one Sunday, and Derik called them up to say, "Hey, my girlfriend covers that song!" They said, "Yeah? She local? Send us a package."
You just never know.
What’s in my stereo at home:
What’s in my car:
What's in my CD player at work: