GP3 @ GRB
February 2nd,
The trio races to the heart of downtown Houston to perform at an upscale gig at the George R. Brown convention center. Hired by a Las Vegas production company wanting to establish a Gulf Coast presence, the GP3 is eager to get started.
For those of you reading this that may not
be familiar with the (GRB) George R. Brown
Center, it is Houston’s
premier meeting area. The facility boasts of
having over 1.2 million square feet, 3 levels,
66 loading docks, things like internal a
Starbucks Coffee house, and Lee swears that he
saw a sign for a landing platform for
interplanetary spacecraft. The point is that… IT
IS HUGE! So massive in fact that the guys are
required to park their three tiny vehicles what
seems to be 8 kilometers away in the parking
garage of the Hilton hotel.
The guys brush this off as a minor
inconvenience, and are anxious to get inside of
this architectural behemoth. They slowly roll
the ‘1st wave’ of their equipment
from the garage across a connecting crosswalk
two stories above the street level. Once inside,
they are instantly taken aback by the kinetic
energy of hundreds of workers scrambling around
making last minute touches for the event. The
trio watches members of the GRB crew ricochet
from point to point. The energy is suffocating
as abbreviated last minute instructions are
blurted out to caterers, workers, and custodians
which bounce around like 1000 marbles thrown
into a clothes dryer. “Wow…the Starbucks in here
must be set to turbo speed!”
In contrast, the trio’s dolly slowly inches through the complex like a loaded barge (a barge surrounded by 20-30 jet skies and speed boats buzzing around it). No problem though…the band has finally found their destination. Jon and Dan from the production company are all smiles as they greet the group. These two are very personable, and considering the amount of poise they display in the midst of all of this controlled chaos, Matthew thinks they should do very well in Texas with the new company. Jon and Lee break off and head to where the band will be playing tonight and are engulfed in a sea of people scurrying about.
After a few minutes, Lee returns with the
news: “Uh…We’re outside - Outside on the
balcony.” “Are you kidding? It’s going to
rain.” protests George. “Yeah –Outside. But Jon
says It’s not going to rain.” George
incredulously fires back “How could he possibly
he know something like that?” Lee continues, “He
said the weatherman said there’d be no rain.”
Jon approaches “Hey George, the weather will be
fine, the weatherman said so.” “But look at
those clouds
…what happens if he’s
wrong?” “Well, we’ll just move everyone inside.
You guys will get paid if even you get rained
out and can’t perform.” “Oh…we get paid anyway?"
"Yes. Regardless if you play or not." "Oh…Okay –Let’s get to it then!”
The piano and bass equipment is quickly
moved on to the stage platform. Matthew, Lee, and his
adult daughter begin the trek back to the
parking garage for the 2nd load.
George is quite pleased with how he has set up
his gear in record breaking time. Everything is
set and ready to go when Dan informs him that
they’re on the wrong balcony! “Your trio is
supposed to be set up on the balcony with the
George Poe Trio signage.”
George is
impressed by Dan’s offer to help pack everything
up and move to down the corridor to the other
balcony. When Matthew returns George tells him
“With everything this guy has to do right now he
was bustin’ his back to help us relocate.”
Lee returns with the remainder of the equipment. After a quick set up and sound check, everything ready to go. George points out an interesting phenomenon that he’s observed about this venue. “You notice how we’re told the same instructions from three different sources? Like that 1st lady that came up and said ‘You’ll start playing at 6:30’ and then the other two people told us the same thing." Matthew acknowledges this “Yeah, Maybe we’ll be paid three times too (even we get rained out).”
Three of the GRB staff inform the band (at 3 different times) that the trio is welcome to use the ‘Green Room’ provided to them. It’s room 214, 214, 214. Since there’s about 20 minutes to kill, the guys decide to go and see what it’s like to be a ‘Big-time’ performer at the GRB and have a ‘Green Room’.
As they begin searching for the ever elusive room 214 they notice things have settled down inside the convention hall. The workers are all in place doing worker-type things. Foyers are beginning to overflow with the event’s guests. Tonight’s venue is for MPI (Meeting Partners International). The conference is expected to generate $100 million in business for Houston during the next three years, according to historical trends for cities that have hosted MPI conventions. And there's a rumor that the city's mayor, Bill White is somewhere in the building. Maybe in room 214?
As best as the band can surmise, MPI is a group of professional meeting people who get together to network and arrange meetings in order for people to meet people involved meeting people who meet others. You may feel that you are good at presenting yourself during an introduction, but these people are the pros! These individuals are studied in the art of small talk ranging from comments about the weather (‘The weatherman said that it shouldn’t rain tonight’) to who was expunged from the latest reality game show. They have mastered the science of the business card flick. They know exactly how much hand pressure to apply when shaking hands ('web-to-web' and all that). Their most marketable ability is they are able to seem genuinely interested in whoever is speaking to them even though they’re actually not listening at all, but rather contemplating which portrayal of the Daren character on ‘Bewitched’ was superior , Dick York or Dick Sargent .
After ten minutes of walking, the guys are almost back to the parking garage and still no 214! Lee asks one of the servers. The response from the woman comes out as a laugh at first, then she points waaaaaaaayyyyy down to where the four started from. Lee is not pleased. “We go on in 10 minutes!” In silent acknowledgment the group walks back briskly now, as with a purpose.
They finally make it in to 214 - which turns out to be located only 75 feet from the balcony! “Whoa...This is nice.” The three quickly begin to partake of the snacks and sodas left for them. “Come on guys - whoever set all this stuff out will be disappointed if we don’t eat all of this!” At this point one of the handlers come into the green room to see Matthew with a half-eaten jumbo chocolate chip cookie for a mouth. “It’s time to get started.” Matthew acknowledges with "Orffe hvrrmpph fruomff tonnueph." as chocolate chips are sent flying. When the guys make it back to the stage, another coordinator prompts them “Are you guys ready? It’s time to start.” George pauses for a moment and wonders if he should wait for a third contact to tell them to start before proceeding. But the third person never comes, so he launches the trio into the song ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE, and the band is off and running.
The sun is setting, and even though the music
from the trio sounds great, little attention is
paid to the band. Over 2000 members of MPI resemble a
massive
hive of bees buzzing over each other,
looking to pollinate empty hands with warm palms
and business
cards. But the trio has a secret
weapon of their own: Lee's daughter.
She slyly inserts herself into the crowd - talks
up the band, and even manages to take some choice pics
of the trio >
Partly through the first set, Matthew and George
a startled by a fire-blast shooting straight
up from the street level below. George actually
misses a beat, stunned, until Matthew informs
him that the flame is coming up from an art car
parked on the street below them.
The wind begins to pick up (punctuated every few
minutes by the fire blast below). Lee hands
George clothes pins to keep the sheet music from
being whisked away down Capitol Street. With
each gust of wind, George
is concerned that Matthew may blow over the
balcony's edge. If this happens, it could
disrupt the MPI group's meeting each other by
forcing them to stop and actually look
over in the guy's direction. This must not
happen. George realizes that he
does not have a big enough clothes pin to hold
Matthew to the rail - so they'll just have to
chance it, and hope for the best. Fortunately,
Matthew doesn't fall. But the wind continues to
bombard the guys-but no rain (just like Dan and
Jon said).
Pink and lavender hues encircle the entire area.
Beams of white randomly criss-cross and slice
through the violet refractions.
Not to be outdone the fire-geyser from the art
car reports from the street every few minutes.
Speaking of redundant reporting, the
coordinators reappear one by one to inform the
guys to take a break at 8:00 for the fire works
show: "You'll need to stop at 8:00 for the
fireworks." Followed by another "You'll
need to stop at 8:00 for the fireworks." then
finally : "Remember to stop at 8:00 for the
fireworks."
It's 8:00...The guys decide to take a break.
The fireworks show truly is spectacular
and brings everyone out on the deck. When it's
over the guys capitalize on having a fresh set
of ears to play to. George leads in with a
savage version of John Hiatt's
WHEN YOU HOLD ME TIGHT.
He plays so intense on the piano he nearly
pushes it off the stand base. "Whew!". To regain
their equanimity, the band eases back down into
a smooth FLY ME TO THE MOON &
DON'T GET AROUND MUCH ANYMORE (both made popular by
Frank Sinatra). It's at this point a woman
emerges from the crowd and asks Matthew if they play "any songs by Frank
Sinatra." Dumbfounded, they agree to play
another Sinatra tune.
The three close out the evening playing
SPOOKY as the wind
begins to subside. They pack up the equipment.
Dan calls for a flatbed dolly, but all of them
are in use by the caters and he's told "It's gonna
be a while." So Matthew and George continue
their ridiculous tradition of
ice-sculpture licking. This time they have found
one in the foyer across from
the balcony. They have convinced the bartender
into allowing them to stick their tongues to the
ice bar. Dan shoots a picture
. After waiting for what seems like an eternity
for a loading dolly, the three are finally able pack up
to go
home. As they head north a thin layer of tiny rain droplets
begin to bead up on their windshields. "Ah,
there it is...No rain tonight."
< Previous Back to Main Blog Page Next >