On Stage

There were always the few hours before the show when Allison thought she just did not want to go, and she was asking herself if she should cancel it. Call the place and tell them she was sick. She wondered why she was doing this. Why exert the energy at her age? What was she trying to prove? Was it to win something, was it to go back in time to those early years in Manhattan? Was it to be known, so people would see who she truly was? Was it a search for meaning in her life after a forty-year law career that she never really wanted?

For Allison, everything in the world always seemed a little strange, sometimes unsettling, sometimes emotional, always vivid – those mental pictures of humans trying to do life. Kissing for example – two people bringing their lips together in the symbol, Allison thought, of joining. We kiss. We are joined. We love. Therefore, we kiss each other. Gestures of love and intimacy, holding hands, sitting on a lap, making love. Allison did these things with her wife, Jaycee, but when she saw other people do them, she felt as if she were observing human behavior from an isolated vantage point. These human actions seemed odd and Allison felt detached from the earth.

She decided she would not bail on the show. She would deal with the waiting, deal with the ennui that preceded the nerves and the adrenaline that shifted into her veins at the load-in and sound check. She always went early, before the sound guys and even the manager got there. Maybe someone sweptthe floors or a woman tended bar.

This show was at Café Nine. It was not a big place, but it was a music venue that was known, and she played there from time to time, the first booking was a thrill that reverberated in her bones. The place was on a backstreet corner in New Haven, outer walls with colorful graffiti, two doors, one on the street that seemed like the front door but was not, and another door around the corner where people entered and paid the cover fee of five bucks. It was dark inside but old and warm, the energy was good and exciting in a subdued way. As you walked in, you could turn left into the area that had tables, mostly high-tops or you could take a few steps and be at the bar that stretched the length of the place and wrapped around just before some space between the bar and the stage. The stage, set up along the front windows, was just big enough for a band - drummer, guitar, bass, singer, amp, big black speakers. The sound guy was at the other end of the old wooden bar. There were different sound people for different gigs. Once there was this chick who Allison thought was hot, and who was wearing ripped black jeans, a white t-shirt, black high-top Keds, and a red bandanna. She was confident, she knew the stage, had no questions or hesitation about setting up the sound, asked the right questions, do you have an audio interface, are you plugging your guitar into a DI box, does each track have the same sound level?

Sometimes, Allison’s wife, Jaycee, went early with her, and although Allison was always too nervous before a show to connect or converse with Jaycee, she knew there would be moments during the show when they would have eye contact and Jaycee would shine a clear and strong love, and this brought more emotion and energy into Allison’s set.

Allison and Jaycee brought in the gear, the two guitars, the canvas tote with cords for the guitar and mic, the Irig Duo 10 that would connect her computer to the sound system, so that Allison could use the Ableton live program with the tracks she created - odd base sounds, layered drums and percussion, synthesizer. In the bag were extra Duracell AAA, AA and 9-volt batteries. The 9-volts were for the Taylor guitar’s pick-up. It was nerve-racking when there was no sound and you hoped it was the cord or the battery and there was not a more complicated sound issue that might me unsolvable.

Jaycee checked out the small stage to make sure there was enough room for Allison’s gear, and if the headliner’s guitar pedals were encroaching on Allison’s space, Jaycee would say something to the other band members, or she would just move stuff herself except she was careful not to do this because once when Allison was opening for The Queers, something happened to the pedals for the lead guitarist and he was mad thinking Allison did it when she set up. That was the show at the Wall Street Theatre. There was a good sizable crowd there. Allison thought it was probably the best show she did during those years she was gigging again.

The Queers had been around forever, and the guys were old, so Allison, in her early sixties at the time and appearing young for her age, looked like a kid compared to those wrinkled old punk rock guys. And Allison was in the zone for that show. During set up, she felt centered and calm as she was connecting the audio interface to her computer on one end and the house sound system on the other. She knew the settings for Ableton Live and knew the program well enough to be able to trouble shoot if the sound was off. She felt prepared as she tuned her guitar. She had extra strings and a string winder in her guitar case. She hoped she would not break a string, but she was ready if it happened. as that was a lesson she learned from the first gig at CBGBs so many years ago. Allison was on stage with her band and in the middle of the first song, a string broke on her Telecaster, she went backstage and quickly put a new string on the guitar. She prided herself on being capable and solution-oriented. This is why she loved technology and especially if had to do with music.

The anticipation of starting the show at Cafe Nine, the physical and mental interior hype, the quietness she experienced while everything around her was loud, was like a soft blur. She did the mental walk-through, she would go on stage, select the first song, push the start button and go. These moments were the reward and there was at least one other earthly reward in addition to the spiritual rewards - that one earthly ethereal moment when she stepped on stage, picked up her guitar, took the strap with woven wildflowers, teal, magenta, lemon yellow, placed it over her neck, looked at the stage sound guy who gave her the thumbs up. Allison pressed the start button on her Mac that was sitting on a black metal music stand. The drums, her created tracks, pounded out of the house speakers, and Allison thought, this is why I do this.