Andrew Vladeck

How can you take the planet’s most majestic creatures and reduce them to props in the cheesiest photo-op imaginable, you ask?  Look no further.

In other news, our moment with the most rock potential came with the Oddesey Festival on The Gold Coast of Australia.   It sure is something to play to a big, beautiful green field.  It’s another thing to play to a field with people on it.  But we played first, and it was a gorgeous night, as bats flew overhead, and we really couldn’t complain.  We had our friends Liz and the Dozzi Sisters in the audience and  the sound was great (thanks again, Steve Winders).  And then we had to high tail it to another gig in Brisbane to usher in the New Year.   Which by that time, everyone was so thankfully sloshed that it made little difference that I played half the show with my banjo tuned to a minor chord.  Not a propitious (or professinal) start to the new year, but no one seemed to mind.    In fact, Carl Honey said he thought my soloing was the best of the tour.  Go figure.

My favorite show of the stint was playing Bread & Butter with the Dozzi Sisters (known on myspace as Doz).  Australia’s answer to one of our USA favorites, The Chapin Sisters.  That is, super talented singing, writing…  and super easy on the eyes.     They let me grace the stage for a solo set followed by Sonny Honey and Honey DuContra.   A fun lovely chill evening.  And can i mention:  the things Ozzies do with Pizza - shocking!  But forgiveable… very good.

I was shocked by how many people came out to see us, and very grateful for how supportive they were.  That show will live in infamy for several reasons.  There was Hoyt Honey’s remarkable performance.   On the second song, Hoyt, in good spirit, and wearing a dashiki, dashed across the stage, tripped on my guitar cable and crashed into the drums, breaking a rib.   And then there was I’ll call the Tambourine Incident. About 20 minutes after a great gig I returned to the stage to collect my belongings.  By that time the supportive audience had kindly lifted a bunch of our things.   What was actually adorable how the sweet kleptomaniacs approached me for a photo or the like.  One girl was wearing my scarf… another had my harmonica…. another our recorder and drumsticks.  And still another with my tamborine.   They all kindly returned our belongings except the tambourine, which wound up in the hands of a surly, strapping gent.  Who refused to return it.    I must confess,  it’s taken me a minute to understand the Aussie sense of humor.   I think I was that failed to appreciate how the inclination to “take the piss” (to jokingly razz someone) can be dangerously heightened when fueled by a lot of drink:  It get’s elevated to a whole ‘nother level.  Add an inferiority complex into the mix and things can get touchy pretty quick.    Hence my imploring him not to steal our tamborine, and him briefly wrapping his fingers around my neck.   It was quite a surprise, and very humbling.  But all’s well that end’s well and we got our tambourine back only to be repeatedly lifted after every single show by more adorable, effusive kleptos, who reminded me they couldn’t help it, as it was in their blood, decended as they were from 18th-Century penal colony thieves.  My kind of people.