Today I felt very under the weather but managed to make it through Mass, and nobody said, "What are you doing here? You're sick!" I did wear the new hat I got yesterday, which looks kind of like the Hat Family tartan.
I compared it with the Hat Family tartan blossom on my white summer hat, and they are almost identical.
We watched the Packers until halftime and took a gentle walk on Governor's Island, then Travalon convinced me to go to drum practice even though I was still feeling bad. I wore a mask, and nobody seemed disturbed that I was there. We mostly clapped along to these diagrams of the various claves anyway, and then at the end we did play the drums, and I felt energetic enough to grab a big surdo and play that. The only bummer was that the soft samba band (who played on Thursday night, but we didn't go) were letting students play along with them if you got there half an hour early, but by the time I got there, I got to hear one song by them but was too late to play along.
Travalon went to the East Side Club to watch the rest of the Packers game, and they beat the Vikings! Oh happy day!
When we got home, we went out on the dock (since it was such a mild day) and watched planes flying in the distance, their contrails lit up by the setting sun. Travalon took some photos.
Our big excitement tonight was seeing
Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band, who
opened for Gaelic Storm back in March. Travalon saw they were coming tonight a few weeks ago, so we got tickets well before we knew I'd have a cold. (We didn't have band practice today because two of us were busy, one person had a sick kid, and Hardingfele didn't want to bother if so many people weren't coming, so it would have just been the fiddler who hosts and our leader who plays guitar and harmonica.) Anyway, I dithered about going, and we had never been to the
Bur Oak, so we weren't sure if it was a sit-down venue like the
Barrymore Theater (which we love) or a standing-only venue like the
Sylvee (which we despise). It turned out to be a small, intimate space with lots of folding chairs set up for people to sit on, and some tables along the edges, and some bar stools. We got there early, found a parking spot nearby (there was a tiny lot that was already full and also had no entry from
Winnebago, so we didn't know how you get in), and found two seats together with no problem. Of course just before things started, a couple sat right in front of us, and the guy was really tall and in front of me, so Travalon and I switched places. I had asked if he could get me an orange juice from the bar, thinking it would be a tiny cup of it, but they gave him a huge glass of it, so I nursed that all evening. Since we had traded seats, my coat was on the back of Travalon's chair, so at one point he dug Niko out of my pocket and handed him to me, and then Niko and Travalon's Dino keychain danced during a long jam when the drummer played on a bucket. The Rev (real name: Josh) is an AMAZING guitarist, and I'd highly recommend seeing him live. His wife is as charismatic as he is; she plays the
washboard and wears a red flower in her black bob, and a younger lady in the audience dressed just like her and got up and danced. Imagine having a groupie like that! The closest thing I have is the guy who bought a mandolin after seeing me play mine. The drummer looks just like our newish HR specialist, except his hair was in two long braids. (I will say the HR specialist does not look like the typical state worker but like someone you'd find on the
Ice Age Trail.) At the end of the concert, the washboard player lit her washboard on fire, and then a sign at the merch table said you could buy it for $200. Not sure if it's still playable... Anyway, the last thing I need is to take up another instrument, except for that cute Brazilian ukulele-looking thing. Apparently it's called a
cavaquinho. My dream is to someday play that with the soft samba band. This has replaced (for now) my dream of playing in a
salsa band, since it seems slightly more likely to happen.
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