Bayfest: Nights 2 And 3

Country Night On Cafe Stage
Saturday, I woke up in room 122, with $20.43, and a free bus pass.

I wanted to go to the music store, but my blogging ran a little long, and I was flirting with the danger of being stranded out on Airport Blvd., like I was once before. The Saturday buses run sporadically. I decided to take my chances with 2 week old strings.

I got 2 Steel Reserves, and headed for the spot that the scraggly-haired guy had shown me, on the first night of the festival. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't hoping that Corrie would be there. I was a bit early, as night hadn't yet fallen.

I got there, to see that none of the same cast of characters were there. It was "Country" night, with Clay Walker and Reba McEntire as the last two acts. I could imagine that the scraggly-haired guy, who loved Motley Crue might hate country music.

I listened to someone with the last name of Kelly, who was alright, but was singing Country style songs, while her band seemed to want to turn them into alternative rock.

Next, her older sister took the stage, with the name of Irene Kelley. She was much more refined, and her band sounded like a country band.

The Scraggly-Haired Guy Shows Up

Then, the scraggly-haired guy walked up, along with a scraggly friend. His first order of business was to tell me that Corrie had told him to say "hi," to me, for her. He seemed adamant about me getting that message.

His second order of business was to pass me a large bottle, containing what looked like orange juice, but burned like fire when swallowed.

Soon thereafter, up rode Billy and Corrie on a bike which looked like a chopper. Someone had given Corrie the bike, and she was going to give it to her son, wherever he is, for his birthday.

The scraggly-haired guy wasted no time in telling Corrie that he had told me that she said "hi." and the other scraggly guy corroborated this by nodding his head, and saying "He told him." I had played a Pink Floyd song for them during the break between the two Kellys, and the scraggly-haired guy informed Billy and Corrie of this and swore "to God," that I really had played a Pink Floyd song, as if it is only one musician in a million that can do so.

"Dances With Corrie"

It soon became apparent that Billy hated Country music, after he said so more than once, as Irene Kelly played, and Corrie danced in the parking lot.
An argument between them ensued, though there was no violence. Billy scolded Corrie who attempted to flee to God knows where, on the chopper bicycle. He grabbed it by the seat, arresting her progress before she could get away. I was glad to see that he doesn't seem to hit her.

 A little while later, it was Billy who left on the bike, to seek out the "rock-n-roll" stage.

Clay Notices Corrie Dancing

Clay Walker began his set, as it grew dark. The big TVs were casting a glow on the parking lot, as Corrie danced.

She is a very fluid dancer and was doing things that you see professional dancers do, like going to the ground and hopping up and spinning and stretching her lithe arms out, in graceful motions that made it appear that she was either underwater, or on the moon.

I couldn't resist joining her, as Clay Walkers music was that good, and the scraggly-haired guy's special orange juice was, too.

We danced together. It was extremely fun. I thought I did pretty well, except for the few times that we collided together, and had to embrace to keep each other from falling. I pretty much felt like I was falling the whole time.

I took her by the hand and spun her around, and we copied each other's moves, which we were inventing on the fly and which had probably never been applied to Country music, since the human race discovered dancing.

I had bought sunglasses that morning and discovered that I could place my broken prescription glasses underneath them, and thus, hold them together. I was still wearing that contraption, even though  it was dark, and I was amazed by how pretty Corrie is, when seen through something close to 20-20 vision.
The shades also made it possible for me to take clandestine looks towards the balcony, which overlooked the parking lot, where the wealthy were eating and drinking in their fine clothes, as they listened to Clay Walker. 

Almost every man, though accompanied by an expensively dressed woman, was stealing glances at Corrie, as she danced, with wistful looks in their eyes. I think they were pondering selling all they owned, donating their money to the poor, and joining us in our dance. That's the way I read them.

Eventually Billy returned, probably after learning that rock-n-roll just wasn't the same without his Corrie. Corrie and I stopped dancing at that point, and I thought and she thought and the scragglies, as well as the rich folk in the balcony thought, how oddly conspicuous that was. 

Reba McEntire Entirely Awesome

A Well Oiled Machine

Then, Reba McEntire played a polished, sophisticated and professional set. Everyone in her entourage was a virtuoso, right down to the sound man. No wonder she wears that grin.

I heard that it took lots of BP oil money to fetch Reba to our humble festival. The next day, Thomas told me that he could bear Reba loud and clear at his spot, which is a good mile away.

Sunday morning, I woke up with $40.93.

After hearing Reba the previous night, I had gone to the spot near the beer store and played, and one young black guy gave me a 20 dollar tip, after I played 'My Girl," for HIS girl. There were several one dollar tips.
I slept until about 10 am. at the church spot, even though it was Sunday, and people were inside the church praying. I kind of had to sneak out. I accomplished this by grabbing my bucket, which I sit on when I play, and picking up whatever trash there was on the ground, as I walked.

I walked all the way to the dollar store, in hopes of buying some headphones. I stopped at CVS and bought a pair of socks for $1 along the way. I grabbed a beer further up the road. Headphones were 7 bucks at the dollar store. I decided not to get them before seeing how much I would make that night.

The Last Night Of Bayfest

I repeated the act of going to the spot which the scraggly-haired guy had shown me. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't hoping that Corrie would be there.
It was not to be.

There was a stiff breeze blowing, the temperature had plummeted into the 60's, and Lady Antebellum were on the stage, and I thought that they were just average, and wonder about all the awards they have won, and how much BP oil money they were able to pump out of Mobile...
Some of their music was beautiful, but just made me more heartsick that Corrie wasn't there. 

I went to play at the acoustically superior spot, since I had the luxury of having woken up with 40 bucks.
I attracted a bit of a crowd, who all threw me something, and didn't discover, until I opened my case at the beer store that I had gotten another 20 dollar tip, amongst the ones. I can't remember what I was playing, but I thought it was pretty good.

This (Monday) morning, I woke up with $56.43.
Next To Last Egg

I went and ate my egg, having woken up just in time to get to the Presbyterian church and get the next-to-the-last one. A near melee broke out over the last egg, and a black woman accused the nice volunteer of being a homosexual, after he had given the last egg to a man, instead of to her.
That about catches me up to date, after the 3 day Bayfest. The weekend further convinced me that I must travel around and seek out things like festivals, and not stay put in Mobile, waiting for events of note to take place.