Sundance; break; then more Sundance.
Dan Chen, Chuck Radue, and I flew out to Park City, Utah, to do some duo gigs at the Sundance; an ASCAP showcase, a thing where we opened for Rickie Lee Jones. Pimping our wares for film industry peeps; they’re more attentive and fun than I expected. The town is mobbed; celebrities abound. The funnest encounter was when we saw John Malkovich walk into the restaurant taken over by Airborne cold medication to dispense promotional quantities of their product, and hot tea.
We had a few days without gigs, so Dan went back to NY, Chuck to LA, and I went to SF to see a friend. We flew back yesterday for another gig, a private show for some magazine editors.
For the first round stayed all the way out in Salt Lake City on our own dime, in a shabby Holiday Inn, commuting half an hour each way every night. The accomodations are considerably nicer this time. We’ve been put up in a ski lodge complex; each of us has two fireplaces, huge flatscreen TVs, multi-headed-showers, jacuzzis, huge kitchens with stainless steel counters and appliances, ultrabeautiful leather furniture, and–here’s the big deal–outdoor hottubs on balconies with views of the mountains.
I stress that this is not the norm for us. We’re all like–Girlfriends? Please?
We’re all hanging out in my suite, watching Gia, and attending to our laptops. My joint also happens to have an upstairs TV lounge with yet another flatscreen TV, and an unused bedroom. It’s nice that they gave each of us so much space, but to be honest, it’s a little lonely. One of the unexpected discoveries of being in a band where everybody actually digs each other is that having your own room is kind of a drag.