Friday, November 28, 2014

Another fun night out.


Observations:

I have noticed many things from my perch at thousands music events. The actual venue matters not. To me the venue is just the box that holds the prize; it could be big, small, fancy or plain, this makes no difference. The audiences are the gift. They are diverse and the diversity within each audience is amazing. People watching is a favorite pastime for me when I go to hear my son sing and play his guitar. Make no mistake about it, I love live music and I love my son’s music; however the show that is displayed by the audience is magnificence beyond imagination.

Over the years I have learned to read an audience quickly. They are made up of mostly happy people out to have some fun. Sprinkled into the mix are shy people just looking for inspiration, angry people looking for trouble, crazy people looking for validation, sad people looking for happiness, suspicious people looking for answers, lonely people looking for companionship and then there are observers looking for a show.

Of particular note are the venues that include a pole. The poles are always there for structural support, however there are always one or two girls in the crowd that immediately see a pole as a dance partner. They spin around the pole, grab it, dance with it, rub it (sometimes with their hands but also with other--more intimate body parts). Last night I was at a show in a venue that has such a support pole not too far from the stage. This show was not a hard rock band but an acoustic singer/songwriter show. Listening, dancing and having fun are included in the normal activities for a show such as this one. Suddenly a young lady dressed in black appeared near the pole. It seemed to have grabbed her interest and she was staring right at it. She wore tight fitting black pants and blouse and a belt that was about 3 inches wide and completely covered with brightly shining rhinestones that looked like diamonds. Across the chest area of her blouse at her boob level were letters that spelled out GUESS. These were sparkly, illuminated letters. At first I thought, it must be the brand called Guess, but it did not look like the font they use. Then I realized the letters appeared to have been manually glued on. Perhaps she wanted us (the audience), to guess were these boobs real or surgically manipulated. My guess was the latter, but it was only a guess.

After staring at the pole for a while, this very shapely, very pretty young lady grabbed that pole and spun around on it. She danced around it and swung from it, she starred at it like it was her best friend or date. She jumped onto the pole and seconds later she lost her grip and fell several feet to the floor, landing on the floor with a splat. My friend and I gasped as well as my son and the other singer on stage. After seeing that she was okay we were all relieved. This fall did not deter the young lady. She continued her dancing and flirting with the pole. Occasionally she would deviate from her pole dance and twirl out onto the dance floor as though she was the only person in the room. Then she would turn and smile at everyone seated as though we were her adoring fans. It was quite a show. I never had a chance to speak to her but my friend briefly spoke to her in the bathroom and reported that this young lady did not speak english well. My friend guessed that it was French she spoke. There was a gentleman with her who took many pictures and videos during the evening, he too spoke with a heavy accent. I might have guessed that they were shooting film for something like a music video but he only used an iphone camera and no self-respecting photographer or videographer would do that.

Another phenomenon last night was a man who appeared to have consumed far too much alcohol, and he was very happy. He tried to pull numerous people up to dance with him (including me) but he had no takers. As a result he danced alone and he danced a dance that was wild, jerky and pretty awkward looking. He would suddenly stop dancing and approach the musicians on stage. Then he would insist that they fist bump with him. It is strange to me for someone to expect a musician who is actually performing to let go of their instrument, fist bump, high five or handshake, and let the notes they were playing just drop to the floor, lost forever to the insanity of their whimsical wishes. I realize the person is not meaning any harm and only having fun, however, as an observer, it is strange to interrrupt the very music you are enjoying for your instant gratification of a fist bump.

I wonder if while this guy was getting ready to come out tonight, he planned to fist bump as many musicians as he could  while he was out. If that is the case, Bravo, he had a plan and he was just having fun.

Overall, everyone was pleasant, everyone was happy and enjoying themselves last night. People are fascinating, sometimes exacerbating or even annoying but last night they all had fun and seemed to find what they were looking for.


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Thanks for the tip..


Yes, Thanks for the TIP

Last night I was at a gig in a familiar place where my son and many local musician play frequently. It is sort of a mainstay for them as they make their livings playing and singing their original music.

It was a really cool night especially for a performance on a deck over the water. This particular place has thick clear plastic drapes that they roll down during the winter months to block the cold wind and they have large heaters warming the enclosed area of the deck where the music takes place.

There was a birthday party for one of my son’s friends at a large table just to my left. Other customers were dispersed around the room, some I have seen many times yet others I had never seen before. At this point it was warm and cozy and enjoyable as we enjoyed our food and the music.

A couple of Eric’s friends from school who we have kept in touch with and remained friends with all of these years, came over for brief visits with me as we listened to him sing. It was in some ways like a mini reunion of people from the parkway.

After a while this couple came in that looked a good bit older than the crowd (not older than me of course, but older than the others). They sat at the table just behind me. The lady sat so close behind me that I could smell her cologne (it was White Diamonds) and I could even feel her breathe near my left arm. Within a few minutes I slowly scooted my chair a little to give myself a little more space.

Then this same lady began to call out requests, “Play Piano Man!”...”Why don’t ya play Piano Man”. Eric said he was sorry but that was not a song he knew. That answer was not acceptable to her at all. “Why not?” she asked, “Why don’t you know Piano Man?”
He replied “That is a very good song, but I play mostly my own original music and a few cover songs, Sorry, that is not one I have ever played.”

This lady then said softer ....”Loser”. This word got my attention, but there was no point in getting angry at her. I feel like something must have happened to her that left her an angry person. Or perhaps it was her nature to be mean. Either way, I did not know her so it did not matter. The gentleman she was with seemed quite nice. 

He tried to calm her numerous times during the evening. This man was very tall and looked like someone who was probably strong and powerful in his youth; yet now he walked with a cane due to a severe vision loss. The woman said  several times, “he is going blind”, “he has a disease that will cause him to wake up one morning...SOON and be totally blind”, “But right now he can see a little bit.” It appeared she was talking to everyone in the room about his condition as he walked toward the restrooms inside.

A few hours passed and the loud lady began to yell out requests again, immediately followed by “Oh, that’s right, you DON’T know it!” To me it seemed that the more she drank the louder she got. The gentleman with her  then said, “I like this guy, he has talent, leave him alone!” A few minutes passed and the man then said, “Here give him this tip!” She said “Tip! Why should I tip him, he can’t play any of my requests”. He replied, “you are not tipping him, I am. Now do it, do it now!”

She took the $5 and walked up to Eric, as she bent to drop the money in his open guitar case, she said, “I am giving this to you begrudgingly”.

Eric had mentioned earlier when he played one of my favorite songs that I was his mother, as he pointed me out. So she knew I was his mother, yet had no problem saying unkind things so near me.

She stood as they were preparing to leave, and as she was now standing right next to me; she leaned over and whispered, “you are doing the right thing to PUSH your son to keep TRYING, if he keeps trying he will learn to play guitar and sing. Then maybe you could somehow get him up to Nashville where the REAL music is.” I nodded but did not say anything.

I appreciate her letting me know that I am “doing the right thing” as I am “Pushing my son to keep trying to learn to play and sing”... 

Her words were my helpful “TIP” and she gave them to me. My tip was not given begrudgingly or at least she did not verbally designate that.

I don’t know if this couple were man and wife, girlfriend and boyfriend or just friends but I don’t need to know. I do know that he was pleasant and kind; she was filled with angst and anger which she loved to spread around. I wish them well and I hope his vision improves mightily. People fascinate me every single day. My grandmother always told me "It takes all kinds to make a world"; she usually said that when she met someone unpleasant. I feel that I met a couple that was unique last night; probably very good people out for some fun on a cold night. I agree with grandma, "it takes all kinds to make a world."




Monday, November 17, 2014

Yes! That is it...


THE “CRACK” HOUSE...

Saturday night I found myself sitting at a new bar, you might call it a “dive bar”, which is the way it is described on their website.

I believe that I observe more about my surroundings than most who are in the bars, primarily because I do not drink, so my mind remains unaltered for the entire evening. Many who come to have a fun night out, or to drown their sorrows or even to find the love of their life, unfortunately often end up drinking more than they should and doing things they would not otherwise do. I often think I have “seen it all” after all of these years of going to my son’s gigs and being entertained by his performances. Then there is the added bonus of entertainment that is the audience.

We arrived early and he brought in his PA system to begin setting up for the show. I carried in his guitar and met several people as I entered. The manager and the bartenders were polite, and happy we were there. They seemed eager to see how the night would unfold. Surprisingly so was I. This was a place we had not played before and I am always up for a change of scenery. 

The pub was located on an island only a few miles south of Mobile, Alabama. It was quite small and it had a large patio area just outside the glass sliding doors. It was mid-November and beginning to get a little cold in our area. The humidity is very high here and that effects how very cold our temperatures feel, even though the numbers do not always sound cold, it gets very COLD. There was a large fire burning in a brick pit just outside those sliding doors and a couple of people were out there enjoying the cold and the warm of the fire. I happily watched from inside. The cold is made even colder when you are located on an island or anywhere along the water’s edge.

My son was now unloading and setting up his sound system, preparing for his show. I ordered a diet coke from the smiling, friendly waitress and then I saw it. I glanced up and on the ceiling directly above me was an inner-tube. The tire tubes like you blow up and float on in the creeks, lakes and bays during the lazy days of summer. I have even seen them in pools as well. The most interesting part of this view as I was now staring straight up at, was the naked butt in the middle of the inner-tube staring right back at me. As I watched in awe at this butt filled inner-tube, I looked around to see if this was the only one and wondered how I managed to seat myself directly under it while never noticing it was there. Then I saw my inner-tube/butt was not the only one, there were a couple more dispersed around the room. My son said that maybe they were trying to give the customers the feel of being underwater and what it would look like for people to pass by on inner-tubes while floating around naked. Maybe that was their idea.

So, I stopped staring upward and took a drink of my diet coke. It was nice, refreshing and helped me return to reality for a moment. Suddenly I decided to take a picture of this butt encircled by an inner-tube that was right above my head. I took the picture, then I thought, what can I do now? I immediately decided to send it to my sister Beverly. We texted back and forth and then began thinking of appropriate names for this bar. She and I came up with a few names that included the word butt.  “Butts R us”, “Island Butt” “The Butt Bar”, “Butt House”.... then a few minutes passed as neither of us texted anything. I sat there amused at how much fun I was having with this odd decor of this little bar on this small island. 

About 10 minutes passed and my sister sent me another text,  it read:
“The Crack House!” 

That was it! My sister Beverly came up with the perfect name. I loved it, that bar should change their name, order new napkins, new signs for the street and the bar front, change their website...they just had to become “The Crack House”.

Somehow the name did not appeal to the managers of this pub nearly as much as it did to me and my sister.

The show was great, my son and his musician friend Harrison sounded near perfect and put on a wonderful performance. Some folks in the bar loved the music and expressed it very loudly, while others were more interested in the football game on the big screen TVs spread around the room. It looked like there was something for everyone in that bar as I found myself looking up at that ceiling one more time.

This is the life of a musician’s mother who dearly loves her life.







Life can be fascinating...


The Riverboat Days

During my son Eric’s college days he played solo gigs on most weekends at a place downtown that was called The Riverboat Bar and Grill. It was a period of time between the end of a cover band he played in for years, called Method to Madness and the beginning of a band he was in for many years, called The Ugli Stick.

During those young days we had many experiences as we enjoyed large crowds at his shows. He played only cover songs in those Riverboat days; he was not yet seriously focused on songwriting at that time. 

Things got pretty wild from time to time at the Riverboat. These young people were spreading their wings and learning to fly. Some learned quickly and others were struggling, eventually there were those who crashed and burned, while others found their wings and soared.

One young lady came to me one day at a gig and she began to talk. She was someone I recognized from many shows she attended. I had talked to her briefly, on many occassions. She had the most beautiful blonde hair that flowed way down her back and it shined in the light and bounced as she walked by. Those big brown eyes of hers sparkled with excitement about life as she told her stories of things that had happened. Her outlook on everything was uplifting to me. She had a perfect shape and her clothes always accentuated her figure. Often she wore things that revealed her cleavage which I had gotten accustomed to seeing on young ladies those days. The styles then and now seem focused on saying “look at my boobs, they are right here!” She was proud of them, it was obvious.

This particular evening as I sat alone listening to the music, she hopped into the chair next to me and began to talk. She seemed unusually heavy in her thoughts. She scooted up next to me, so close that I felt a little strange, but I could sense that she had something to say so I stayed put to hear it. 

Suddenly she blurted out, “I have a pretty bad situation and I can’t tell anyone about it”.
I sat there, in deep thought about her words, but waited silently as I knew there was more coming. “My parents would not understand and would be very disappointed in me, so I could never talk to them”, she said this with her head dropping, perhaps in embarrassment. I said, “Oh, I am sure it is not that bad.” I added, “You would be surprised about the unconditional love of parents, they would understand more than you might think.”

“Not my parents!” she exclaimed, as she sipped on her Corona, I could see the glimmer of tears welling up in her eyes. I patted her hand and told her even though she may not believe it now, I was sure that her life would be fine; this was just a little stepping stone and not a road block, (though I had no clue what it was we were discussing, I did know she was deeply saddened by it).

Finally she took a very deep breath and blurted out, “I am pregnant!” I looked over at her to hear the rest of the story. She continued to explain that the pregnancy was not the REAL problem, it was part of the problem. The most concerning issue was paternity of the baby.“The father is either my brother’s best friend or it is a guy that I had a one night stand with a few weeks back." She added "He is a really cute guy that is in my Sociology class at school,we got together one night in his dorm after a few drinks.” She breathed deep one more time and said, “then there is a guy named Jeff that I really love but he is married to my best friend and we hooked up twice when she was out of town.” She looked up toward the ceiling and tears ran down her cheeks like a waterfall. I felt so sorry for her in this deep web of confusion she had spun with reckless abandon.

I was a little surprised just at the fact that she found the time and energy to be so ACTIVE, but I said nothing, I just smiled and patted her hand again to comfort her. She told me the worst thing of all is that the one she really loved was Jeff, her friend’s husband. 

She looked at me with big hopeless eyes as she asked, “What am I going to do Ms. Juanita?”

I sat there thinking, processing all of this information. There were 3 guys who were candidates as the possible “baby's daddy”. There were big complications with the one she had true feeling for, Jeff, who was married to her best friend. 

I remember my mind racing as I pondered the possible words of advice I would deliver to this young woman.

I believe that maybe a little alcohol makes a person lose prospective on the consequences and just go with what feels good. I get that. But this woman had a real twisted problem and I did not know how or even if, it could be untwisted.

I reasoned that, she did not know who the daddy was and there were multiple choices, therefore I felt it would be best not to tell any of the possible candidates for fatherhood yet.

I told her she really had no choice but to tell her parents at some point, the sooner the better. “Most likely they will turn out to be your biggest support system through all of this”, I told her.

After that night I did not see her or hear from her for years. She was on my mind for weeks and months but I realized I was just there for her to have someone to listen and to help her get some perspective on her situation. Yet, I was left to wonder and worry about how things turned out for her. I would hear little tidbits of information now and then. One night at a show, one of the people sitting at my table told us that she got married to a guy in her class and they had a baby boy who was now about 2 months old. That was such good information, I was so happy to hear it.

At least 15 years have passed since that day. I thought of this beautiful, confused young lady often. One of her friends filled me in recently at a gig. She completed college and became a high school teacher. She appeared to be happy and was still married to that guy from her Sociology class years ago.  Then one day, I bumped into them at Academy on Airport Boulevard and was so happy to see them. I noticed when I bumped into them, that her son looks identical to her husband. They even had the same mannerisms and smile. She said they had moved out of state about 10 years ago, following her husband's work. They were in town to visit her parents. It warmed my heart to see her and her little family.

Life is tough, confusing, fascinating and glorious. We can dig ourselves a big hole of seemingly unsurmountable problems, yet, if we gain our composure, regain our focus and work hard at it,  often things really can work out better than we ever dreamed. It may not always turn out like we planned, but it always turns out the way it was suppose to be.







Friday, October 31, 2014

Sparkles and Hoo Hoos...


You want to do what to my son?

It was late night at Grand Central downtown. Eric (my son) was opening up for a Nationally and Internationally touring singer songwriter named Hannah Aldridge. You should look her up, she is great! She is the daughter of Walt Aldridge, look him up too...lots of talent!

He sounded great and the crowd was into the music. Everyone was pleasant and happy. It was everything that a night out should be.

Early on I noticed a couple of cute young ladies in the crowd. They danced and they twirled around, sometimes it seemed they were not even aware there were other people there. One had on tight jeans with the sparkly glitter on the back pockets, which drew all of the attention to her butt. She had on a top that hung off one shoulder and did not come down low enough to cover her flat tanned belly, with a sparkling belly ring. Yet it occasionally slipped down too far at the top and revealed a little more cleavage than the law should allow. Her friend wore a cute blue and green dress that was not a mini dress but a micro-mini. While standing straight up, the dress barely covered her “hoo-hoo”, unfortunately she did not stand up straight all night. SO, when she raised her hands, we could see the edge of her booty. Then we got a full view of all that she had when she bent over to pick up her phone from the floor. By the way, she wore a lacy, seafoam green thong that disappeared and popped out at the top of her booty. So, I can tell you we saw it all.

I realize we see thong bikinis on the beach and it is no longer that shocking to see. It was not a disastrous view, this young lady was in great shape and seemed very proud of that. I do not mean to judge these girls, they were having fun and they should.

Soon my attention was diverted to a couple of guys who stood near the bar and they were getting more and more “happy” as the night passed; they also became more and more amusing. One was demonstrating his dancing abilities for the other. He would put his whole body into the effort as the music played. He moved to the right, then to the left to each beat and he wore a smile the whole time. I recognized one move that belongs to MC Hammer, and he did it well. It was clear that he loved to dance. His friend was not impressed and laughed at those dance moves, yet he never had the courage to attempt dancing himself. 

The dancer was very short, he wore jeans, boots and a white tee shirt that had the logo of a strip club called “Sammie’s” emblazoned on back. His friend, who was still unamused, was leaning against the bar. He was wearing light, torn, faded jeans, flip-flops and an unbuttoned flannel shirt with a dingy looking tee shirt underneath. The friend was more into listening to the music. It seemed that each was enjoying themselves, but the dancing one continued to annoy the non-dancer with his "Watch this!" "Look at me", every few minutes. It reminded me of a kid at the swimming pool, yelling "Look Mommy!" So I could empathize with him. Patience seemed to be his virtue as he continued to watch his little friend in silence, while his expressions were screaming, "have mercy on me Jesus!"

As the evening continued to progress and we were listening to Hannah Aldridge sing, my friend and I kept watching this crowd and smiling. I find the audience to be equally as entertaining as the show on the stage most nights. There is little opportunity to talk at many of these venues because between the music and the natural noises the crowd makes, it is nearly impossible to carry on a conversation.

Later into the evening, I hopped down from the high chair at  my high-top table and headed to the ladies room. A friend I had not seen in a few years spotted me and stepped in my path. It was great to see her and catch up on the goings on in each other’s lives, but all I could think of while she talked was “I have to pee!” I had drank two diet cokes in a relatively short period of time and I needed to continue on to the bathroom; after all, my bladder was in its mid-sixties and it was doing the best that it could, but could only hold out just so long.

Thank goodness, she finished, we hugged and I hurried on in to the bathroom. One of the two girl dancers I described earlier was in there. She started to engage me in conversation and I said “No, wait, I really, really have to GO!”

When I attempted to exit the stall, there she stood. I smiled and said, "Hi" then waited for her to move. Eventually I had to step around her to get to the sink. She then began to talk. “You are Eric’s mom, right?” I said, “yes, I am”. She said “I think he is so talented and so handsome, I just want to cook him up and eat him!”

I thought for a moment, then I said, “ That’s nice, thank you, but I think it would be best if you waited until after the show is over to cook him and eat him.” Then she and I laughed. She then asked me a few questions about Eric; things like, his age, his current relationship situation, etc. I told her his age but I said, “You will have to talk to him about his relationship status”. Then I told her it was nice to meet her and I smiled and returned to my high top table near the stage.

I thought about those two girls on my way home and I realized they were just trying to get attention and have some fun. We all have to do our thing, walk our own paths and sometimes do things that others do not understand. They were young and I suppose they were still trying to find their place in life. 

As I have spent a lot of time in support of my youngest son and his career choice, I have met some of the most delightful, caring, loving people on earth and made many friends of all ages. I have seen sadness, love, tragedy and elation here as much as in the ER where I worked for years. No matter where you spend your time, or what path you are on, life continues and ends all around us.








Wednesday, September 17, 2014

She spoke through her dance


Annmarie Mazzini a dancer with heart and soul

When I planned and packed for this trip to Martha's Vineyard, I never imagined the things I would see and the experiences I would have while there. I met hundreds of people but many of them left me with a lifetime of memories and with a spirit that was soaring.

She danced with tremendous emotion. I could not take my eyes off of her as she told the story of love and loss with her movements; her leaps of joy, then crumpling to the floor with emotion. She had the ability to speak to your heart by moving her body. 

Annmarie Mazzini is a dancer with her own dance company in New York CIty and she was a part of the Consenses Project in Martha's Vineyard. She interpreted one of the songs into a dance and performed at the final show. Also she held a workshop on dance as a part of the project and my son Eric Erdman played his music (no singing, just instrumental). To watch them sway and stretch  and leap through the air as each chord touched them deeply, was like watching art in motion. Their reactions to this music made me see it in a new light. Now each time I hear him play these songs I can revisit that day and those dancers at the dance studio deep in the woods of Martha's Vineyard. It was magical to me as I watched the class and Annmarie understand and interpret the music my son created. 

Annmarie and her husband are our new friends and I know I will see them again. This wonderful project brought together a large group of very talented and dedicated artists and gave them memories to last for years. 

The Consenses Project by Sally Taylor is not over, it is moving and it is a movement that is likely to grow beyond anyone's dreams. I am a better person after the experience.


 

Great people I met along the way


Some people I met at the Consenses Project in Martha's Vineyard

This project I had the privilege to attended and observe was a life changing event. I came across some of the greatest people on earth. Many were artists that were a part of this huge project (there were 130 artists from 23 countries). I loved meeting the artists and hearing them explain their feeling when creating this art and I equally loved meeting the people who came to experience the project and to see these creations.

I met a group of 3 senior citizens who were loving life and happy in their own skin. She was named Evelyn and he said everybody calls him "Chop". Their friend was Sarah or SaraLee.
All three were short people, so it was like I had met "my people". After the Tuesday night show on Martha's Vineyard, I was standing, talking to Eric and a couple of the Consenses Project participants, when these three people approached us. You could not find a nicer group of folks. It was a man, his wife and their dear friend and they had driven from Connecticutt for the unveiling of Consenses Project. 

They loved my son, Eric Erdman's song for the project, "What's left of What Used to Be." Both the man and his wife said they were personally touched by the words and the music, unlike any song they had heard before. They hugged us and stood there talking for a while about life and such things as love, inspiration, emotion. It was then that their little friend spoke up, she said, "My name is Sarah Lee!" I smiled and hugged her too, then I asked her if she went by Sarah or both names Sarah Lee. 

She was a very short lady with snow white hair, dressed with refinement, wearing her pearls and diamonds; she answered my question like this, "Well you can call me Shit Head if you want, that's what most people do!" I stood there amazed and surprised, yet I chose to call her Sarah Lee. This same group was there for the entire time of Consenses. 

On the final night, the final show, I looked back in the audience and there they were, with big grins and waves. When they joined us at the edge of the stage I handed them copies of Eric's CDs and told them most of the songs he sang in the shows were on those CDs but a few would be on his upcoming CD. You would have thought I gave them the world; they happlily waited in line for his autograph on their CDs. Meeting these people and knowing how much they genuinely enjoyed Eric's music was worth more than gold to me. They were senior citizens who knew how to enjoy themselves and seemed to be inspired and happy. I loved them.

Safe and Peaceful



                                                            A great place to Visit

On my recent trip to Martha's Vineyard to participate in the Consenses Project I discovered a wonderful, safe, peaceful place on earth. The people were pleasant, the scenery was fabulous and there seemed to be no angry people, no impatient people, no rude people.

I feel pretty sure the crime rate in Martha’s Vineyard is O%. Even IF they counted rudeness or profanity as crimes, still O%. People were pleasant and pleasing to be around. I passed groups of teenagers several times and never heard the F word or any other curse word at all. No one in my vicinity ever raised their voice.

On Monday night as we rode in a taxi to our hotel, the streets were empty (it was a little after 11:00pm). Then we looked to the left and saw a long line, it was roped off similar to a ride at Disney. Eric asked the taxi driver about the line, thinking maybe it was a popular bar. Guess what? It was a midnight DOUGHNUT SHOP! That is right, these people were waiting for the late night doughnut shop to begin serving their hot doughnuts! 

The very next night our dear friend, Lynn was driving us back to our hotel and we saw the same line in the back of this doughnut shop, it was called THE BACKDOOR DOUGHNUT SHOP. It was located only a couple of blocks from our hotel, so she parked at our hotel, and the three of us walked to this shop to check it out. There were a few children in the crowd, two security guards were there to keep everyone in a straight line, they had no gun or billy clubs, just yellow vests that said “SECURITY”. The security guys laughed and enjoyed the crowd, there was very little crowd control needed, except that one time when a 3 year old girl skipped out of line and had to be corralled back into her place.

It reminded me of the Truman Show with Jim Carrey where everything was too perfect to be true. Only this was true. People were happy. Everything was real around me AND those doughnuts were pretty darn good too!


How Sally was Inspired


My Musical Adventure- began with The story of the elephant

Seven years ago while in Thailand, Sally Taylor saw the story below of the elephant and the blind  men and it sparked something inside her. She feels that if we will open our eyes and hearts to the view point of others; make an effort to release our insistence on being right and hear how they view things and how they feel, the world will be a better place. This story below is what started her vision for the Consenses Project she opened in Martha's Vineyard and that my son Eric Erdman became a part of at her request.


ELEPHANT AND THE BLIND MEN
Once upon a time, there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, "Hey, there is an elephant in the village today."
They had no idea what an elephant was. They decided, "Even though we would not be able to see it, let us go and feel it anyway." All of them went where the elephant was. Everyone of them touched the elephant.







"Hey, the elephant is a pillar," said the first man who touched his leg.
"Oh, no! it is like a rope," said the second man who touched the tail.
"Oh, no! it is like a thick branch of a tree," said the third man who touched the trunk of the elephant.
"It is like a big hand fan" said the fourth man who touched the ear of the elephant.
"It is like a huge wall," said the fifth man who touched the belly of the elephant.
"It is like a solid pipe," Said the sixth man who touched the tusk of the elephant.
They began to argue about the elephant and everyone of them insisted that he was right. It looked like they were getting agitated. A wise man was passing by and he saw this. He stopped and asked them, "What is the matter?" They said, "We cannot agree to what the elephant is like." Each one of them told what he thought the elephant was like. The wise man calmly explained to them, "All of you are right. The reason every one of you is telling it differently because each one of you touched the different part of the elephant. So, actually the elephant has all those features what you all said."
"Oh!" everyone said. There was no more fight. They felt happy that they were all right.
The moral of the story is that there may be some truth to what someone says. Sometimes we can see that truth and sometimes not because they may have different perspective which we may not agree too. 
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A little more than two years ago Sally put her ideas in action and reached out to artists she knew and some she found,  to accomplish this task of getting her vision of artists coming together and each seeing their own works expressed from a different view. All of her hard work and efforts were about to come to fruition at Martha's Vineyard and we were excited to see it.


We had just wrapped up the recording of the basic tracks for Eric’s new CD, it was early on Saturday, August 16th and though we had a fabulous week in Muscle Shoals, enjoying the local cuisine and the musical vibe that comes from being in such a place; we were not looking back but looking forward to the days ahead. We had breakfast and headed to Nashville where we had a flight booked very early the next morning. This flight was taking us on yet another musical journey that awaited us in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts. 

More than two years earlier, Eric’s friend Sally Taylor had sent him a photograph. It was a plain black and white print of an old boat floating all alone. There was nothing particularly special about the picture, it was almost sad to me. She asked Eric to look at this picture and write a song. The song was not to be about the subject matter in the picture but about the feeling this picture created in him.

He wrote that song while sitting on the sofa in my den. It appeared that this picture just drew the words and music out of his soul easily and quickly.  Once the song was the way he wanted it, he sent it to Sally.


The picture Eric recieved and song he created, would become parts of this artistic chain that would travel through several art mediums and finally reach a film maker who would look at all of the contributions in the chain and make a short film. Eric’s picture was one of 22 that were sent to singer/songwriters worldwide. Each songwriter wrote and performed their song and when Sally received them back, she sent them to another art medium. Eric’s song went to a dancer/choreographer who created a dance. The dance was performed for a scupltor, who made a sculpture from feelings the dance evoked with him. The sculpture went to a perfumist who made a fragrance, based on how it made her feel. The group of artists that were in line in Eric's chain each performed their part until it reached its final art medium, the film maker. 

Each group of artists in the chain was inspired by what the previous artist had done, yet amazingly they all tied back without even realizing it.  I was fascinated as I heard many of the participants say that seeing their work from the eyes of others, helped them to see their own  work in a different light. It was amazing, for the visitors who attended the revealing of this Consenses Project, and it was amazing for the artists to see how their work effected other artists. Added to this, was tables placed throughout the venue that allowed those who were viewing the exhibits to use any medium of artistic communication to express how these chains or parts of the chains had effected them. It could be conveyed through writing, drawing, or painting. Paint brushes, pens, markers, pencils and lots of paper were provided for viewers of the exhibit to say whatever they wanted to the artists or perhaps just one of the artists in any chain as they viewed it. I saw notes and drawings that said  “this touched me deeply, I will never forget it”, “I was amazed at the way each chain unfolded”....all of the expressions of feeling or emotion that touched everyone was very special to see.

This wonderful project allowed the artists to see how their work effected the people who listened or touched or viewed their piece of the chain. 

I have never seen anything like it in my life. I met some of the greatest people that week. Several of the perfumists spoke to me and attended workshops with me. A couple of dancers and sculptors are now new friends. AnnMaria Mazzini danced to Eric’s music at a workshop where she taught dance during the Consenses Project. She is fantastic, look her up if you get a chance; she is located in New York City. The closest connections I felt were with the songwriters. I met a beautiful, talented, sweet young lady named Kori Withers who sang at two of the nightly shows. Eric appeared in the shows with her. Her song was one of my favorites. It was called “Stranded” and was pulled from her soul as she was going through a tough time when she received her picture from Sally Taylor. Kori’s father (who is now deceased), Bill Withers, wrote songs such as, “Lean on Me”, “Aint no Sunshine when she’s gone” and “Grandma’s hands”. She is a brilliant songwriter and it is definitely in her genes. I love Kori.

I also met two people, husband and wife, who are music professors at Burklee College of Music in Boston. His name is Mark Simos and I am not certain of her first name, I cannot remember. I spoke with them both at length each day. Mark teaches a graduate course in Songwriting and he had a couple of books he had written on the subject. Eric got one of them and they plan to stay in touch. His wife (I think her name was Heather), also was a part of the project. Both Mark and Heather received pictures, just as Eric did and they wrote songs. Heather’s was hands down my favorite song. Heather and Mark both  performed the first night. Her song touched my heart and I cannot wait until she records it and I can get it. She played the piano as she sang her song, “Even a caged bird sings”. It makes me tear up just to write the title down because it brings me back to her performance that night.

There were 122 artists from 23 different countries, including film maker Wes Craven, Songwriters, James Taylor, Carly Simon, Jimmy Buffett, and more. I loved the film and song by a singer, songwriter from the UK, but again, I will have to look him up. His song was excellent, though it told a sad story of being adrift and feeling alone, it was very moving. He said that when he received his picture, it was a time when most of his friends had moved to America and he felt so abandoned and empty. The picture brought out his deep feeling of uncertainty and it was beautifully expressed in his song. I could feel his emotion deeply as he sang. 

I met publicists, agents, dancers, quilters, tea makers, musicians, artists, sculptors, people from all walks of life, and all were so happy to be there to share such an enormous project of feelings and shared artistic abilities. 

This event was unlike any other. It enabled the visitors to participate and express how the work of these artists made them feel. There were workshops led by songwriters, dancers, photographers, and other disciplines of art that enabled us to better understand how they view the world and how they relate to the world. True artists are unique creatures to me. But I learned in one of the work shops that everyone is an artist. We all have abilities in one genre or another, whether it be music, painting, photography, cuisine, perfume, writing, poetry, quilting, glass-blowing, it is art and it is a means of expressing yourself. 

So I learned that even I am an artist, I never thought of it that way before. If we all could learn to accept our abilities and our art-self, oh what a wonderful world this would be for us and our children. Consenses Project is going to spread to other cities and many more people will have the opportunity to see, touch and feel it. If it comes to a city near you, I recommend it as an uplifting experience for your spirit and as something that will be good for your soul.














How Eric met Sally Taylor


Bubbles, Bubbles, Everywhere

It was a Friday night and Eric was the opening act at SouthSide on Dauphin Street. He was opening for a touring band that was traveling through Mobile. One of the reasons he was selected for this particular act was that he played a lot of James Taylor songs and the touring band was The SallyTaylor Band, (Sally is the daughter of James Taylor and Carly Simon). 

I remember the first time I saw her as she came in wearing sweat pants and shirt and her hair was twisted up and half down. Even through that I could see that she was beautiful. I was sure that she had been on the road all day with her band and probably for many days prior. She came in with a great smile and introduced herself to Eric. They talked a while and seemed to really hit it off right away.

She asked him about a place to eat nearby and he recommended a restaurant for them, then he got his things set up for the show. One of the items he used frequently in those days was a bubble machine. It always added a little magic to the show and most people really loved those bubbles.

Sally and her band returned to the venue to prepare for their performance. Eric began his opening act and they watched as he sang. Right away I could tell that they really liked him. In those days Eric was called Birdman. It was a nickname he had picked up while in high school on the baseball team. He made a diving catch and his coach (Coach Rollins) said “if you keep jumping like that we will stop calling you Erdman and start calling you BIRDman”.  It stuck and he was called Birdman after that.

Well he had the name “BIRDMAN” stenciled on the side of his road cases that held his sound equipment and lights. Sally and her guitarist, Chris were struck by that because, Chris was also nicknamed “Birdman”. Chris’ parents were “bird people”, they raised all sorts of birds and I understand they were ornithologists. So he grew up with birds all around him and his friends had dubbed him, “The Birdman”.

As Eric performed he activated his bubble machine a couple of times with a pedal that he pushed with his foot. The bubbles drifted into the audience and each took a different path. Some soared upward hastily, while others drifted slowly to the floor where they rested until they popped. Some lit in people’s hair and lasted a few seconds there before they too popped. It was fascinating to watch those bubbles, each living their own fleeting moments in completely different ways. They were similar to people, each choosing or drifting, using the time they have on earth in their own way.

Sally watched those bubbles and she loved them. She asked him could he leave the bubble machine for her to use. He said, “Sure”! Then he instructed her on how to start the bubbles and how to stop them.

When Sally took the stage she was adorable, She was dressed nice and her hair was perfect. Her stage presence was remarkable. She had been on the road supporting her newest album called, “Tomboy Bride”. Sally also told the story of living in New York as she grew up in an apartment on the west side. Their apartment number was 6S and her mother would buy groceries at the market and have them delivered to their apartment. She would say, “We live at this apartment building, in 6S”. As a child Sally did not understand that it was an apartment number, she thought her mother was saying we live in “Success”. She remembered thinking, “well we live in success, that is good!” It wasn’t until many years later that she realized what her mother had been saying.

As she sang her songs, she tapped the pedal for the bubble machine to commence sending those bubbles out to the world. There was a very redneck acting guy in the bar that night that was dressed totally in black. He wore boots and a cowboy hat and his hair sort of stuck out from underneath the hat with no real direction, it was something that made you take a second look. Well this guy was enamored with Sally, he seemed fixated on her beauty and her talent. So he stood up front and leaned against a post as he enjoyed the show. She tapped the bubble machine and did not understand the instructions Eric had given because she left it running. Bubbles, Bubbles, Bubbles were released into the air and they were flying, dropping, landing, popping, sticking to people and walls. Suddenly we looked up at the cowboy guy in black and he was just covered in bubbles. I don’t know if the black just attracted bubbles, or if the fabric of the clothes he wore was good for bubbles to land on and stay intact. I do know that was quite a sight to see this guy covered in all of those bubbles.

Sally kept a rode diary of her shows on her tour and she wrote a great story of her show in Mobile and the bubble machine. I always read her diary and enjoyed every story that she wrote. 

Eric and Sally became friends back then and they have remained friends over all of these years. As a matter of fact a couple of years ago she included Eric in a project she had begun, it is called the Consenses Project. It is a fascinating journey of the perceptions and creativity of artists in all disciplines as they express themselves. She sent Eric a picture. It was a plain picture of a boat. It was not a fancy boat or a new boat, just an old boat sitting in the water. She asked Eric to look at the picture and write a song based on the picture. Not about the subject matter but about how this picture made him feel.

He wrote a song about how this picture made him feel and sent it to her. The song made its journey down a path of several artists, there was a dance choreographer, a sculptor, a glass-blower, a jewelist, a perfumist, a chef and others, but the final artist discipline was a film maker. Eric was not the only songwriter involved, I am not certain, but I believe she sent pictures to a dozen or maybe even twenty and each group of artists did their thing in the journey of this wonderful process she created. There are artists included from 23 different countries, I think 133 total artists (don’t hold me to that, I am not certain of the exact number).

Well over two years have passed and the big event of revealing the progression of these songs (Eric’s included) to the final step of film maker, will take place in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts August 17-August 20 this year. It is very exciting and I plan to fly there with him to see him being honored in such a way.

The song he wrote for Sally’s project is named, “What’s Left of What Used to Be” and it is the last song on his second album, Color the Silence.