But last night was special because we say it is and that's enough. We dined at a local Italian restaurant (Carabbas) having an excellent meal (no, no food pictures. Whaddaya think this is, Facebook?) good service, timed it right so no long lines. A selfie by the waitress will have to do. Yes that is my wife. Nice, ain't she? Yes the old guy with her is me. Life. Whaddaya gonna do?
Then being that far into town, we swung by the Starbucks our daughter manages. To see our kids these days, we have to go where they are and I will use any excuse anytime to see her. I am a Dad. Sue me. No luck. She had left early so we assumed she was also having a date night. No I don't want any details. I am a Dad. Sue me.
The son, Dan the Buddha, was a different story. As a musician and sound tech, he was mixing for a local band that includes his day gig boss at a local club, the Lumberyard. (Got wood?). So we made our way there, paid the ten dollar cover charge (jeez, real money for a band. That's rare.) After the usual hugs and hellos to the band, guys I know from my days in the trade, we waited for the music.
The band, Sunset Guns, is great. It was LOUD. This IS rock. There isn't that much good real rock these days not being played by the over 50 musicians. Really. The music of the young as Gracie Slick says looks sort of dumb when played by old people, but well, it IS their music and they do it better because they've been doing it a lot longer.
This I accept although I don't want to be one of them. As my Dad predicted, the older one gets the more one tends to turn to quieter music. Anyone familiar with my YouTube page knows I am a mellow balladeer. It is how I started and where I find the sweet spot of voice and instruments these days.
I am past the time that I want to schlep heavy gear into smoky rooms. And well, I am not nor have I ever been a fan of being in crowds. It isn't social anxiety. I like being me. It is a sort of claustrophobia with sensitive ears. So loud and cacaphonic are not my thing.
Then my son came and sat with us. That is when I realized he was mixing the band on an iPad using wi-fi. That sucks. We had to carry ornery large mixing boards that weighed a ton and could be quirky, He was walking around like he was texting a girlfriend. I am jealous. It looked so easy.
Ok, he will never have the pleasure as I have of seeing a mixing board smoke. Yes, when a power supply on the old rigs died as one did to us one night in the middle of a set, it flames and spews smoke. It didn't happen often but when it did, it was surreal. The sound system screams in agony for a few seconds, then POOF! It is not a nice way to end a set but it is sort of entertaining. Well, not for the guy running the board. He was devastated, It was his board.
On the other hand, and there is always at least one, analog mixing boards don't crash like software does, not with a POOF but with a soft whimper. Then it is the mixing dude that screams. YOUR DAY IS COMING, BUDE!
There. Now I feel better.
There is no point or clever joke here. It is simply life and on occasion I have one. It was nice to see the Boy and hang with a band again. I do miss the life.
Then we came home, fed the dog, and continued date night. No pix. I am a Dad. Sue me.
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