1:59pm, and I'm back, listening to the boys interact with the teacher, havin' some fun. They are suppose to be workin' on some poetry, but they are actually having a discussion about 40 being old and racing. OK, on to the evening of Sunday....
So I was invited to do this benefit for these charities a couple weeks back, and Sunday was the performance. Now I received this itinerary on Thursday or Friday, which stated that I would go on at 8pm after a soloist. It also stated that a sound-check would occur from 3-6, happy hour at 6:30, etc. etc. etc. So I went to sound check around 3:30, no one was there, at least not anyone that I had known ie Brea Bowman. I ended up staying there until around 4:20 and then left because no one from sound was there. Also one of the wait-staff mentioned something that they had to get the rest of the money for renting the space. That information did not settle me at all. I was already pretty nervous, and now I was a bit doubtful. So I never made it to sound-check, but did arrive around 7:15. And to my surprise, the place was packed out. So I was able to find Brea's people easy. Soon after I arrived the host "the entertainer, the limo driver" got on stage, and attempted to warm up the crowd. Now I was in a room behind the bar off-stage and was able to hear the amount of crowd noise that was happening as the "host" was trying to win over the crowd. He spent about 7 min. tops on trying to settle them down.
When I was called out, me, my sax, and poetry were ready, however, it didn't seem like the crowd was. They never got down to even a dull roar, it was constant; they were loud, they were rude, they were not listening. I addressed the crowd and they were just not feelin' me. It was like they heard the word poet, or poetry and were instantly turned off. Hell, I felt like I could of been Amri Baraka, or even Maya Angelou, ......(helping my boys with their poetry and blogging at the same time)......
and they would of been just as disrespectful and rude. I was already pretty nervous, but now it began to seep into my performance. Granted I had some note-cards, but my horn started squeaking a bit, and the rhythm of the piece just began to fall to pieces. The crowd got louder and then quiet, but maintained a definite presence as I attempted to perform. It was rough, mid-way through the piece I wasn't sweaty, I wasn't enunciating, I wasn't into the piece anymore, I just wanted to get done, and get off stage.
3-25 2:41pm (Tuesday...yea, I know I'm late)
I ended up finishing the piece, the crowd was pleased due to the fact it was done. As I walked back-stage
Brea gave me a light "good job", and so did the camera guy I had met earlier. However I also heard a "that's a bad start" from some female voice...then I knew it was time to go. I packed up my stuff and headed out. The crowd was still pretty loud, but I didn't feel like sticking around--not even for a free showing of Lyfe.
I was embarrassed, I felt bullied. Now I will usually joke about bullies, being bullied, or being a bully at work, but this time I felt what it was like. Seriously, I felt like I was back in high school, and the cool kids had invited me as a joke, then played me when I was on stage. I know what Carrie felt like and why she did what she did.
So yea, instead of staying and possibly meeting a good R & B singer, I left early, was embarrassed and went to my hole in the wall bar and drank it away. Hope u all enjoyed the Carrie clip, it's the original. So yea, if a mothafucker embarrasses you, do like Carrie...and burn they ass up!....doodles coming in next segment!!!
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