During the penultimate practice preliminary to the KFJC Battle of the Surf Bands, the Kool Kat appeared to be looking over the “living room” of the Doghouse and our practice space. He then walked to the kitchen area, grabbed a handful of almonds, and on his way back, surveyed the area again. Clearly, he had something percolating under his mane of white hair.
As I was congratulating the Pups for being within the KFJC Battle of the Surf Bands time limit, the Kool Kat began shaking his head. That jogged me from any feelings of relief; my thought was, “Oh, oh, what’s going on?”
The Kool Kat stood rubbing his chin and said, “We don’t practice like we play live. For our next practice, we need to move the furniture, line up how we line up on stage, and play.” Sue joined in immediately, “Yes, that is absolutely right. We need to do that for our next practice.”
Hearing no objection from Glenn, I knew what was in store for our next practice -- and possibly every future practice. Multi-tasking! Didn’t I flunk Multi-tasking 101 once already this year? Rather than repeat the course, we agreed to do all things in moderation -- including moderation -- for awhile.
The next practice came. The furniture was moved. We lined up like we might be on a stage. I had switched back to a cord -- fluorescent yellow -- as visions of airport tower and radio talk coming across my wireless system filled my imagination. “This is November six-five on approach, over.” Squawk. Urp. ZZZ. “What’s your zulu? Over.” Squawk. Urp. ZZZ!
Alas, tripping over a cord would be better than that. Then again, maybe I just should have a cord at the ready and simply risk a Spinal Tap moment.
We played. Robert perfected several well-timed jumps. No jumps for me. Grabbing air no longer is in the cards. Actually, not much was. When I went to my knees to play, Robert started laughing. He knew that the odds were against my arising with any aplomb at all. He was right!
After that move, he joked, “You need to have Becky come out a put a cape over your shoulders, hand you a cane, and start to lead you off stage. Then you can throw the cape off. You know, like James Brown!” Yeah, maybe some day after we practice that a bunch. And maybe I can learn to do the Chuck Berry duck walk. Fat chance!
In the end, we did not come up with any slick choreography. No coordinated leg kicks. No playing leaning against each other. Nothing at all other than proof positive that choreography is for Broadway productions.
Instead, we will stick to a healthy dose of moderation. And that probably is best for . . . . After all, didn’t I already tube multi-tasking badly?