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Well, Apple, I'd say your gig is the exception to my "No Prayer Circle" before the job rule. Large Pipe Organ? Prayers, offerings, and begging for mercy are in order. Good luck!

I think I can say with some assurance that no one has ever called a "prayer circle" before any gig I've been on. In the spectrum between sacred and profane, more conversations tend toward the latter than the former.

This doesn't rule out the odd unvoiced entreaty to the powers above in certain situations. There was a "circle" of sorts before the Bar Mitzvah At Sea that I described upthread. I'm sure there were a few whispered pleas to the Almighty among the 8 strangers that were attempting to simulate a band.

I am not a religious person myself, but I'm sure I have let slip a hope for Providence to smile on me when accompanying a 14 year old warbling the Star Spangled Banner or an octogenarian free-associating through My Way. And I have accompanied the Disciples of Our Lady of Arrhythmia on many an occasion. One was even a Priest. I'm sure there was a prayer for good pitch from him, and one for a swift conclusion from me.

I'm sure that Robin's dignitaries outshine mine, but we played a charity/political dinner dance over the weekend. They actually kept the speechifying to a minimum, and many people danced. Both of those are unusual occurrences at such functions. A current City Councilman of NY City came up to play Bass with us. He must have been practicing, because he was much more assured than the last time he sat in. His Dad, a former Councilman, grabbed a mic. to sing along with our vocalists on the last song, "Goodnight Sweetheart". All in all a pretty good gig.

We go to a concert every December at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in New York. It is the largest (and probably the most unfinished) Gothic Cathedral in the world. There was a fire in the gift shop a number of years ago. The structure is almost entirely stone, but the combination of smoke, soot and water did a great deal of damage nonetheless. They closed off most of the building for several years to clean off the residue.

The church services went on, as did the concerts, in a small portion of the church. A small portion of this large a building can still hold a lot of people; probably 1000 or more attended the concerts in those years.

One of the casualties of the fire was the organ. It was not burned, but the pipes were all coated with soot. These concerts, billed as the Paul Winter Consort, feature an unusual combination of instrumentalists (and other performers) which changes every year. But they always make some use of the pipe organ. For several years they had an electronic replacement.

The restoration work was finally complete in time for this past December's Solstice Concert. To highlight that fact, the church's organist played a series of solo pieces during the intermission. What a sound! Everything from a bright piccolo to bass to rumble the pillars of the earth, with metallic brass (from the other end of the cathedral) thrown in for good measure.

I could see the organist in his perch high above the choir loft. What I wouldn't give for a chance to make some noise with that magnificent contraption! And noise it would likely be, given my complete ignorance of organs (ones that don't come with spinning speakers, anyway).

I'd surely try the pedals, even though the coordination of my lower extremities is suspect even for the more familiar uses. The sound of those big pipes vibrates the body from the inside out; a few half-notes would have cleared up Apple's Grecian Misfortune completely.

Alas, I don't imagine they let just anyone play it, and I fear that my musical "resume" would only further diminish my chances.

Sigh.

Pipe organ and prayer circle discussions qualify as wedding topics, don't you think? I agree, Greg, what fun it would be to try out that instrument at St. John the Divine. But the foot thing scares me to death. I have enough to worry about with just my hands. And I'm quite sure that whatever I played would sound like a very loud version of ice-skating music. Couple skate only, ladies choice. I can see the Zamboni rolling down the center aisle, threatening to take out the choir, the Consort, and the congregation.

I love that word, CONSORT. I think it adds a certain weight to anything that comes before it. The Robin Meloy Goldsby Consort (of one). The Greg Guarino Consort—now there's a band name that would get you some wedding gigs.

My dad's friend (and one of my former piano teachers) Vince Lascheid was the organist for the PIttsburgh Pirates and the Penquins. He was not a consort, but he knew a million tunes and could get a stadium rocking and laughing with his song choices. He died last year. Every time I read anything about an organ, I think of him.

The Visiting Dignitaries from a Foreign Land will be with us in the castle for the next few months. I am now on a first name basis with the entire security team, which, in the cocktail piano biz, is not such a bad thing. Unlike the gigs in New York, NOTHING unruly ever happens at this place, but hey, should someone attack me with an espresso cup or a plate of fois gras, at least I'll have hulking men packing heat to cover me.

Played a private party there last night, not for the Visiting Dignitaries, but for an all male Titans of Industry group, unrelated to the Dignitaries. I'm playing for a castle wedding on Saturday. The magnolia is in bloom, the black swans are zooming blissfully around the little lake, Wilma has yet to rear her Bridezilla head, and all is well in the land of pianos, fancy food, and funny accents.

Playing cocktail piano for an all-male gathering may present its own set of oddities, but consider the following:

My current band is 9 pieces, but I've played with groups of varying size down to as few as three (sax, drums and yours truly on keys, LH bass and vocals -- not one of my favorite combinations). But no matter the size of the group, our purpose at a catered affair is to get people to dance. That's what they pay us for.

Apart from some brief event-specific bits, catered affairs are largely similar. Weddings, engagement parties, 50th birthdays, 30th anniversaries, charity banquets, Corporate Holdiday parties, Christenings (yes, really) and most other functions are 4 hours of eating, drinking, dancing and talking, in slightly varying proportions.

But...

A number of years ago we played for the retirement dinner of one of the higher-up Chiefs of Police in NYC. It was a large group of perhaps 500 people; all of them, save the retiree's family, Police officers of high rank. No spouses. No significant others. No dates. Out of 500, at least 450 were men. The few women were police officers as well.

I believe the retiring Chief danced with his wife. Once. No one else did. In fact, we were scarcely noticed, except as a slight impediment to talking and networking.

I'm sure that I must have played other gigs where the band was entirely superfluous and ignored, but I can't remember many quite like that. We're too loud, if nothing else.

I played at a party for the tenth anniversary of a fitness studio business a couple of years ago. This was one of my rare gigs with a different group. Apart from the proprietor's husband, the drummer and myself, the entire room was filled with women, including fitness instructors, club members, clerical staff and the two leaders of the quartet I was playing with.

Oddly enough that group danced the whole evening. Go figure.

here's the organ i get to play tomorrow

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7z1cqXqXZY

well that was one nerve wracking wedding. the trumpet stop for the solo voice on Purcell's Voluntary was absolutely stupendous.. i about had a heart attack. I am surprised I am still alive.

I somehow got some bells or chimes working on the Canon in D.. and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to turn them off.

shudder.

Congrats, Apple! You did it. That was one serious instrument you were playing. So glad the trumpet stop didn't knock you off the bench. You probably can't have too many chimes at a wedding, but still, that must have been unnerving.

Thanks for the report!

All is well in the land of blooming magnolia and castle weddings. The brides of early spring possess a certain sophistication not found in the high summer brides. They are calmer, more confident, more serene. Maybe it's drugs, maybe it's the scent of cherry blosoms, who knows.

Last night, I took my thirteen year old daughter with me to work. Julia plays the piano herself, and may well be able to sit in for me in a few years, should she decide to pursue a castle-piano type career.I suspect she has other things in mind, but as I point out to her every so often, playing at this place ain't exactly digging ditches. Anyway, our castle is very kid-friendly, offering a large park, a lake with ducks and those famous black swans, and lots of century-old trees to climb. Julia's brother, Curtis, once got stuck in a womping willow on the castle grounds, and, right in the middle of Moon River, I had to leave the piano to go rescue him. But that's another story.

Last night, as we arrived at work, we were greeted by the director, who informed Julia that a brand new duck was about to released on to the castle lake. The duck was sitting in a box back in the purchasing office and the Emotional Moment of release into the wild would take place within the hour. Perfect. Jul had brought her camera and was hoping to take some wildlife shots.

One of the Visiting Dignitaries (yes, they are still with us) was given the royal privilege of naming the new duck. Her Highness chose the name Sally. Don't know why, but it's a nice name for a duck. I went to the piano and began my first set by playing All the Things You Are for a lovely group of wedding guests who did not know the difference between Jerome Kern and P. Diddy, but that's okay, because they were wearing nice outfits and they smiled at me.

Meanwhile Julia was down at the lake, waiting for the Emotional Moment. The Director and one of Her Highness's security guys carried the box to the water's edge. Her Highness stood at the window to her suite, waiting to witness the Emotional Moment. The box was opened. Sally glided out onto the lake, And then, before the eyes of Her Highness, numerous castle guests, and my daughter, she was jumped and pummeled by one of the male ducks. Duck Porn. After the male duck (let's call him Dagobert) had his way with Sally, he swam away. For several moments, the witnesses thought Sally was, well, a dead duck, but she recovered and began paddling— cautiously—around the perimeters of the lake.

"Well," said Julia, as she plopped herself down in one of the leather sofas next to the piano. "THAT was brutal."

"Did you take pictures?"I asked.

"Are you crazy? I could hardly watch. Poor Sally."

I drifted into my second set, playing a medley I call "Songs I Know in the Key of A Major." The wedding guests had moved on to their nuptial dinner. It was a mellow night, and I was happy, watching my pretty daughter edit her photos and the nice people in various shades of black floating in and out of the main hall. I was playing in The Zone, when all of the sudden Julia jumped up and yelled NOSEBLEED! and ran out of the hall. I kept playing,

Okay, just so you don't think I am a bad mother, you should know that Jul has frequent nosebleeds, particularly in the spring. She stays cool and knows what to do, and hardly ever requires my help. These are not drip-drip nosebleeds, but projectile nosebleeds, the kind that Linda Blair would have if she were to make Exorcist: Part Six. They cause alarm to everyone but Julia.

By the time I arrived in the Ladies' Room, Jul had two Titans of Industry Wives hovering over her. They had her stretched out on a counter, were applying cold compresses and were about to call an ambulance. We convinced them she was fine and they went back to their lemon-grass infused dinners. I sent CDs to their table before we left.

This is one of the things I love about my daughter. She was not mortified or ashamed or even upset. As we were leaving, we walked past the piano. "Mom," she said. "I may have to rethink the piano business. Nose bleeds and ball gowns are not a good match."

True, that. The dry cleaning bills are already high enough. But now I'm thinking it would be convenient to be able to have a nosebleed on cue. Drunk guy with bad combover making a request for My Way? Nosebleed! Mother of the bride with puffy hair and a sweater appliqued with sequined hummingbirds asking you—in the middle of a song— for directions to the coat check? Nosebleed! 5th Titanic request of the night? Nosebleed. You get it. Imagine the possibilities.

PS: Sally is fine. I played for lunch today and she was cruising the lake as if she owned it. She is the Buttercup Blondeau of Ducks. Either that or she has royal blood.

ok - i'm going to buy your book. i just knew the duck story was going to involve another duck. haha

Robin: Just read Piano Girl...excellent!! I caught myself chuckling out loud a few times! Very enjoyable, fun read.

a ha!

i have just made the purchase. this family I am in doesn't purchase things often. We're savers, not consumers of the usual type. We buy things like property and pianos and organs. That said, we own 6000 books and I am in the process of packing them in apple boxes (oddly). We really own 6000 books. My husband is a total nut about them. I'm on apple box #131 and have more to go. I don't have time to read because we are finishing building the house and I am now responsible for mowing my property and this new one. 3 acres total.. not to mention all the deep cleaning. I am so tired when I go to bed I get thru about a page and a half and crash.

I am looking forward to it coming in the mail.

My husband will say " Mary, why don't you write a book about pianos?.... books are so valuable".

Apple: That is very impressive!! It's neat that you're using apple boxes. I thought we had alot of books but you're in a different galaxy @ 6,000! I have such a hard time getting rid of books...I'll donate them to the library, to assisted living places, etc but they still seem to grow. I'm now trying to buy only "reference" style books, or books that I know I'll want to read or refer to again. Otherwise, I'll request it from the library & be put on the waiting list if it's in demand (waited ~4 months for Grafton's latest).

Have fun with the move. I've seen the pics on your blog & it looks like it'll be a wonderful house!

You'll enjoy Piano Girl...a fun read.

I have detailed some of our encounters with the local fauna at outdoor gigs in another thread...

Want to Know What it's Like to be a Pro?

...but stuck mainly to insects. Your Looking for Mr. Goodbill story has reminded me of some other animals we have run across.

One of our regular Summer concerts is at a State Park on Long Island. It's named for the stream that runs through it, although it seems to me that a garden hose could produce the same water flow. Even so, the park is home to a large population of what we musicians call "Canada Geese". Zoologists may call them something entirely different, but no matter.

Each kind of social animal has a name for it's "group"; a "pride" of lions, a "swarm" of bees, a "passle" of varmints, etc. The correct term for the Long Island Park Geese is "Squadron". There may be Dagoberts among the crowd in the downtime between missions, but they are all Baron Von Richtofens when we play, pelting the audience from above with Stogie-sized bombs.

Not Rock 'n' Roll fans, I guess.

Funny story - really quacked me up. I used to know of someone named "Quackenbush" (a doctor, believe it or not).
I think it's called a gaggle of geese around here..

We have a "Medley in D". All Fifties, all I - vi - ii - V; a trip down memory lane for those who can still remember. We don't play it very often anymore, but there's one tune, the name of which I have forgotten, that we get frequent requests for. Since several of our musicians also have trouble remembering the song, the bandleader usually calls "Medley in D, one song".

The One-Song Medley (TM), another innovation brought to you by Older Musicians Who Have Played Too Damned Many Songs.

i'm loving your story Robin.. I'm on page 89 and should be packing.. so i'll leave you now.

only found one typo so far... (i used to be a proofreader tho you'd never know that from my webspeak.)

funny that i remember competing with the Flintstones and Mr. Rodgers for living room time. My mom made a compromise for me.. "Why don't you fold the diapers while watching Mr. Rodgers with the babies?... and you can practice before school".

Greg! I love the One Song Medleyâ„¢. Very funny. I never plan what I'm going to play, so sometimes I crack myself up with the medleys I come up with. Ridiculous, the things we do.

I remember your wildlife stories from the "Pro" thread! I think we had a back and forth about wasps on the gig (not the people kind, the stinging kind). I think SQUADRON of geese is entirely appropriate. Canada Geese are somewhat exotic over here, but I know in parts of the USA they are big problem. Haven't yet ben pelted, so I consider myself lucky.

Speaking of wildlife, CLEF, where are you?? I'm missing you.

Glad you enjoyed watching Mister Rogers when you were little, Apple. My dad played music for his program for 35 years. Fred was a family friend and a true hero.

Robin.. you are fortunate to have known Mister Rodgers. In my childhood I absolutely hated him, as he cut into MY piano time... I would glare at the TV as I sang 'won't you be my neighbor' to my sibs. I never could figure out why the kiddies adored him. (I'm the oldest of 9).

I came to appreciate his gentle ways and genius later.

Our old wedding band used to have a number of medleys, all of which consisted of more than one song, strangely enough. We had several Motown medleys which we would sometimes string together into a Medley of Medleys if it was a good dancing crowd.

But our present band does very few medleys, much to the chagrin of our sax player (who was the leader of the wedding band). Instead, if lots of people are dancing, our bandleader (one of the vocalists) uses hand signals to tell the drummer what the next song will be. He'll point to his eye for Brown Eyed Girl for instance. But he'll also point to his eye for two other songs that have the word "Eye" in them, but in minutely different ways that only the drummer can decipher.

Holding the chain around his neck signifies "Unchained Melody"... or "Unchain My Heart". One is a sleepy ballad, the other a rockin' R&B number, so they are hardly interchangeable. Mustang Sally is a pantomime of holding the reins of a horse. There are dozens of them, hardly any of which I have managed to learn. Tommy, our drummer, usually gets it right, but occasionally gets confused and steals third base instead.

It's strange to think about how many songs you've played over the years. Back when rec.music.makers.piano (and Usenet in general) was more viable and active, there was a thread about how many songs you need to know to play gigs. One guy, a jazz player, said he knew 634 songs...he had a list. This of course scared the daylights out of the original poster, who was trying to work up to 40 songs. (That could be barely enough, BTW. You don't really need 634)

I don't have a list, but I'm sure that over my varied demi-career I have played at least that many, probably more. Among the "ridiculous" things our band does is take requests for songs we don't know. The way I see it, it's easier than rehearsing. When we "prepare" at all, it's uaually via email; MP3s circulate, each guy works out his part, we try it at the gig. I'm know for doing my prep work in the Guarino Mobile Music Analysis Pod. I have two of them actually, one red, one blue, both made by Toyota.

Where better to work out a tune than on the way to the gig? It preserves the spontaneity and sense of adventure. [Not recommended for musicians under 40. ]