But last Friday and Saturday were just the beginning. Someday Courtney should post that great photo of my impromptu nap in the theater lobby Saturday night. What the camera doesn't capture is how I hopped up not a moment later, brushed myself off, and went to dance in front of the stage to the infectious rhythms of Cuba's Maraca.
Helping run a music festival is not all hard work though. After all, it's a group effort with each person playing a particular role. Thanks to a wonderful group of staff and volunteers, the festival has run fairly smoothly thus far (knock on wood-or WUD, that is). So far I've paid the bands, organized volunteers, and shown the lovely Mamak Khadem and her band around Madison and the Union. Thanks to her keyboard player I was able to practice my Japanese and learn a little something about being a traveling musician and a parent at once.
Thanks to Little Cow's road manager, I thouroughly confused myself:
Tour manager: "So...check."
Me: "Czech?"
Tour manager: "Check check check."
Me: "Check check check...one two three...check."
Tour manager: "No, check."
Me: "Ummmm...Czech? I don't speak Czech."
Tour manager: "Where's the check, you know, the money?"
Me: "OHHHHHHH...the CHECK! Come this way!"
