How to sum up this past weekend... It was one of those crazy limbs that one goes out on when they appear out of nowhere, and the whole time you're wondering whether it's a good idea or not, but in the end you're glad because hey, at least it's a good story.
Actually it was more than a good story: it was great. My husband and I went from Victoria to Seattle on the Clipper, which is known, in the technical nautical jargon, as a Really Fast Boat. Because we were somewhat delayed by a customs snafu on the departure end, they had a sale onboard--drinks (including our favourite Washington state wine) for $1.50 each!! I was sad that I could only have one glass with the show coming up that evening, and was not surprised that the passengers were getting more and more boisterous the closer we got to Seattle. Anyway, we pulled into the harbour, everything dazzlingly sunny, and went to have a delicious lunch/dinner at Ivar's before checking into our hotel and, promptly, embarking on our journey to Woodinville, where the show was happening.
Perhaps not promptly enough, though. As faithful readers of this blog will remember, I don't drive, and neither does my husband. Where we grew up (Montreal and Victoria, respectively) it wasn't necessary, so we just never got around to it. However, in some places it IS necessary, and we learned the hard way that suburban Seattle is one of these places. But we were travelling on a limited (read: nonexistent) budget, so we had figured out how to get to the winery by public transit, at least on the way there, since the cab fare would be outrageous enough to get back to the city after the show. Thrifty, yes. But it took SO EFFING LONG to get out of the city in the afternoon traffic, and then when we finally arrived, we were on a country road, without much idea where we were (thanks, Google maps) and about 20 minutes to go before the show starts. You know it's a bad sign when you are trying to figure out directions based on the position of the sun. Dear reader, I was near tears.
My darling husband, however, saved the day, keeping me calm and using his preternatural sense of direction to lead us to the Chateau Ste Michelle. A twenty minute hike got us there, sweaty but intact; we were hurried backstage by the security people, I met Michael and apologized profusely, promising that I would sing his song right even though we'd never rehearsed it. He is a very nice man and seemed more relieved than anything else (I could almost see the words "what have I done" etched in his face). I drank two bottles of water, and it was showtime.
The stage was huge, set up in the middle of a beautiful field, already populated by more people than I'd ever played for. Some were on folding chairs, but most were on blankets or their own lawn furniture, drinking the chateau's wine (for sale onsite, of course) and waiting to hear how everybody wants to rule the world.
Mike went on, just him and his guitar, and started his set. A great, easy stage presence, with a good sense of humour, he was the perfect opener. His songs are melodic with more than a hint of Beatlesy sensibility in their hooky chord progressions. Oh, and can he ever sing. I understood immediately why he was chosen to sing backups for the main act. Remarkable.
So he starts introducing our duet, explaining to the crowd that I'd just arrived and that we'd never rehearsed this, but here we go! The crowd was delightful. I was greeted onstage by yells of "GO KAYA!" from the front rows. Who are these people? Were they planted to make me feel good? Either way, I am flattered and pleased. I sing the song. I have no monitor and it's very tricky to hear what I'm doing through the enormous speakers pointing out into a field, but I think I'm singing the right notes. Either way, it happens. And people start cheering while I begin to sing. A lot of people! Now, if you've never experienced this (it was a first for me), let me tell you: it is the reason why people get on a stage. My whole soul smiled.
Almost immediately, it's over and Mike is hugging me, obviously pleased and even more relieved. I take a bow and walk offstage during the (to my ears) very loud applause. As Sean and I are heading to the wine tent to get some hard-earned libations, people are complimenting me left and right. As we go to take our seats in the crowd, a small round of applause even breaks out. I want to laugh out loud, but am so grateful. Have I ever mentioned how NICE Americans can be?
The rest of the concert was just plain fun: Tears for Fears put on a GREAT live show and their songs have so much more substance to them than you might think, if you're snobbish about number one pop hits. There's real musicianship in them. Anyway, we had a great time, hung out briefly afterward in the after-show lounge, although alas, we didn't get a chance to meet the guys. I imagine, since this was the first show on the tour, that they were exhausted, and don't hold it against them in the least. We, too, were exhausted. We called a cab, and eventually (i.e., after about an hour's wait and another 40 minutes' drive) we staggered into our modest hotel room, drank some water, and immediately fell asleep. Rawk 'n roooollll!
The next day was spent being touristy in Seattle, which is a city I have decided I could easily live in. But I won't bore you with those details. And then we came home on the Really Fast Boat. The End.
I can't thank Michael Wainwright enough for taking a chance on me. This was one of the oddest yet most rewarding things I've done in my still-young music career. And my thanks, too, to my friend Abby for hooking me up with the opportunity. It's worth it to go out on these limbs, I believe, when you can. One never knows what the experience will lead to. And hey, at very least, it will make a good story.
Love,
Kaya
