Day Four: March 1st, 2010 Canyon City, CO

Day Four: March 1st, 2010 Canyon City, Colorado

We’re here! In a few hours, we’ll be playing the second concert of our tour. The good people of Canyon City have seen us before. The venue is bigger this time. There was an article in their paper about us, including a nice picture. That means we need to get over to the hall and practice! This is one of those times when being tired is not an option. Nevertheless, we’re flopping down on the pillow-top mattress here at The Quality Inn. Zzzz NO SALLY!

Yesterday’s concert went really well! I never know what people are expecting when they come to one of our shows: A concert pianist playing Beethoven? A female Victor Borges or Liberace? And what’s an electric bass doing up there? Were husbands dragged by their wives to see this, making them miss the game? I usually feel like they’re accepting what they’re seeing about fifteen minutes into the show. Mildly embarrassing chuckles in the first half turn into belly laughs the second, and they’re standing and clapping at the end. Any whisper of “Encore” and I’m right back on the piano bench. We greet everyone in the lobby afterwards as people line up for me to sign their CD purchases. There are always comments about my shoes. This tour the first half I wear gold sequin high-heeled pumps, and later, black open-back heels with rhinestones around the toes. Many of the women in the audience end up just looking at my feet even if they don’t understand the music. Standing for a long time signing CDs is the hardest part, but I smile as if I’m comfortable in these things! I explain that it’s easy for me on stage, because I’m mostly sitting down on the job.

The first half I wore my new dress and took one last deep breath of the afternoon before Frank zipped me up. It is one of those that has no shoulders or sleeves, just two brown ropes holding up the bodice, which holds everything in like a corset, and then gracefully (and mercifully) flares out into a full skirt at the hips. The spotlights were warm, and by the third piece I could feel sweat droplets rolling down my bare arms. I wondered if the audience could see that. Then, it got worse! I was dripping from my elbows! This dress has no way of absorbing anything. Maybe people would think I was like one of those Spanish dancers, who, every time they do a spin, the first row of the audience gets drenched. People wouldn’t expect that from some “Lady piano player” up there. The keys even had droplets on them. I don’t need a page-turner; I need a towel boy! Also my hair was sticking to my mouth because I forgot that lip gloss is deadly to a concert pianist. There are no hands available to solve the problem.

An hour or so before the concert, while bonding with the beautiful black satin finished nine-foot Mason and Hamlin, Frank called out from stage left, “Sally, you’d better come take a look at this!” He had just unzipped the suitcase containing the toy piano. There lay bits and pieces of what has always been my signature little skit for years. What a shambles! Little plastic piano keys were scattered everywhere, the wood had come apart and it seemed hopeless. I told Frank that we could just cut that part of the show, because it was too long for what this venue requested anyway. Then I saw his mechanical mind go into high gear. He had packed a hot glue gun. Slowly he began figuring out how to put the keys back in place, asking my advice on what notes were what. I wasn’t sure!

A miraculous twenty minutes later, Frank presented me with a rebuilt toy piano, only missing four high keys, which were shattered. It was good enough. We quickly did a sound check with it on stage, and Frank seemed to be playing in the wrong key. I thought maybe he was just stressed, and would kick in with the right notes soon enough. Finally he said, “Give me a C.” I did. “NO,” he corrected, “That’s an F.” “Oh No,” we both realized, “the keys went in wrong and transposed the piano!” For all of you out there that don’t have the foggiest what I’m talking about, it would have been a disaster when playing it along side the Mason and Hamlin.

Early birds were now requesting to come in and take their seats. Frank had to scramble to once again rebuild the piano, get his stage clothes on, man the CD table, and discuss last minute cues and tempos with me backstage. Good thing he has taken up running since the last tour!

The concert started promptly at 4:00 and no one was the wiser. Even with all the scrambling, dripping, hair sticking to my lips, etc, we played joyously and the audience was with us. The toy piano worked, too. Jake, the sound and lighting guy did a great job, and even created some special effects during our “Phantom of the Opera” medley.

Some audience members asked us if we could join them for dinner after the show twenty miles down the road in Paxton, Nebraska. This place, called Ole’s Wild Game Restaurant and Lounge, was supposed to be really something special. Well, I was exhausted and had no desire to drive forty miles round-trip at night to get something to eat. We had 325 miles to drive the next day, and then a concert. It had also just started snowing.

So we drove to Paxton and found the place. Frank opened the door for me as I ducked in to get out of the cold, blowing snow. There, our new friends, Herb and Karen, greeted us. The next thing I saw was a giant Polar Bear in a glass case. Herb suggested we take the “scenic route” around the restaurant to our table. There were heads of every kind of animal known to man, stuffed, and starring right at me. Buffalo, deer, elk, cougar, flying stuffed geese, antelope, ram, long horned steer, tiger, and even a fully tusked elephant! This room could compete with The Natural History Museum in Washington, D.C. if it weren’t for cute waitresses and tall beers.

We found our way to a long table of people waiting for us. Frank and I were assigned the middle seats on each side, so we could talk to everybody. Easing into my spot, I saw about twelve human heads surrounded by a hundred animals with big teeth, husks, horns, antlers, and lots of fur. Frank thought he saw the original Mr. Ed!After lively introductions and questions/nice comments about our concert, the man across from me said, “You know, they have rocky mountain oysters here.” I responded, “Are they somewhere up there on the wall?”

Happily, the conversation turned to the professions of the others around the table. The guy sitting next to me along with his two friends were cattle ranchers. Nebraska is about cattle. Not just any cattle, but some of the best in the world. I confessed that I know nothing about that subject at all. They told me about selling bulls for breeding, etc. and about the strict criteria for selling at auction for top dollar. Enjoying my ignorance, I asked, “So, you’re in the stud business, then? Does the bull have to be charming? You know, to woo the cows?” Laughter erupted around the table and throughout the room. I guess I have a lot to learn.

It was a really fun evening and I’m so happy to have stopped my grumbling and went. The people were so fun, smart and interesting. I wish we had more time, because I would take the ranchers up on their offer to meet some of their studs. The restaurant was charming, too, Sports Illustrated is quoted as saying it’s the LEAST politically correct restaurant in the world!

We’re back on the pillow top mattress after finishing concert #2. I’ll give you more on that tomorrow. Now I DO have an option to be tired, but first I have to wake up Frank so he can help me post today’s writing into the blog. Hopefully soon I will learn to do it myself. Oh Fraaank… (sorry)