“Hi, friend”. Ernie, the morning cook at Papa Ray’s Family Restaurant in Centralia, greeted me as he glided over to my table. “How is everything?” When Ernie sees me come in, he throws potatoes on the grill. I always order my hash browns “black burnt, black burnt, black burnt… with a sliced onion on them.” Ernie always delivers, but he likes to make sure he gets them the way he wants them. “Perfect,” I said between crispy bites covered in grease.
This particular morning in late April, Ernie had news for me. We both share a love for music. Ernie scours thrift stores for rare “trays.” I go to concerts “I just heard there’s going to be a concert in Seattle with Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne and Keb Mo.” It sounded like a strange combination, but I like strange things. Ernie knows that in addition to well-done fries, I like Keb Mo and his Delta Blues.
As soon as I was able to get online, I started looking for the gig. I found zip. I continued to search for the next two days and then cursed Ernie for his worthless misinformation.
A week before the concert, at the end of May, I saw a listing in the Seattle newspaper for the Paramount concert. Ernie was right and once again I had been disappointed by the lack of concert information on the internet. I tried to book tickets from the Paramount website (where previously there was no information), but no response. Phone calls to Paramount only resulted in busy signals. My wife Peggy finally got tickets through scalpers at double the listed price of $48.50 for the best seats. We had almost the same luck with the accommodation. We like to stay in Seattle when we go to concerts instead of going back to our home in North Tacoma.
Peg called our favorite hotels. They were all full. There were several conventions in the city. He eventually found a Bed & Breakfast, but they would only rent us if we stayed two nights. Later in the day after booking at the B&B we received word that another venue could accommodate us for Friday night, the night of the concert. We were surprised that they had an opening, especially after we checked into The Gaslight Inn.
We were upgraded to a very nice suite on the third floor of an old Capital Hill house. The suite is the third floor. The stairs get narrower and narrower as you go from one floor to another. It was worth the climb. There is a bay window in the living room that looks out over Seattle. The furnishings are a good mix of antique and modern. The kitchen came with tea bags, coffee and a pint of half and half in the fridge.
The Gaslight is actually two houses that sit next to each other. The main building has a nice pool in the backyard. Our building had a parking lot as a backyard. I’m not complaining. We could have used the pool. We use the parking lot.
Both houses had a lot of art, on the walls, on the furniture, and hanging from the ceiling. In our room there was a chandelier. It was made of wrought iron with a circular base. There were no real lights on it. There was a round piece of clear glass with three overlapping pieces of hand-blown glass plates set at the base. Ceiling spotlights shown through glass art. Other (matching) hand-blown glass pieces are found throughout.
If you’re going to a concert in Seattle, you just have to eat in Seattle. We dined at the Desert Fire. We were short on time, so we just ordered an appetizer plate. We’ve had it before so we knew it would be enough. It was served quickly. We ate and ran out to the concert.
The concert was for the benefit of the Songbird Foundation. The forests of Central and South America are being cut down. Some of our local songbirds spend the winter in Brazil. Without their habitat, we may lose songbirds. The forests are being cut down so that coffee can be grown. The best coffee is grown in the shade, but of course you can get better yields by growing coffee in the sun. We can save songbirds by drinking coffee that has been grown in the shade. Vote with your mug. That’s my kind of support.
The concert was one of the best concerts Peg and I have ever attended. The atmosphere was relaxed, fun and spontaneous. Keb Mo (Kevin Moore) was introduced before the stagehands set up the microphones and stands. Kevin got out and started talking into a microphone that came out from under him. He moved on to the next one and said, “Usually they just tell me to get out of the way.”
Almost all performed accompanied only by their own guitar. However, instead of sounding hollow with absent background singers and instrumentation, the music took on a homey feel. It seemed that the artists were good friends who stopped by not to entertain, but to share their music. The concert felt comfortable. At one point, Bonnie mentioned that she had changed the lyrics to a song. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she ran off the stage. She returned a few seconds later and explained that although she is over fifty years old she does not need glasses. She placed the lyrics on the ground about five feet in front of her and sat down in front of an electric piano.
Near the end everyone joined in. Bonnie called Kevin to sing even though he didn’t know the song. Bonnie then had Jackson take a verse that began “When she was a girl.” Both the crowd and the performers were enjoying themselves. My favorite song was made by Keb Mo. It was “Victim of Comfort.” Are not we all?
The music was wonderful. The concert was fun. I owe Ernie an apology and my thanks. Next time he orders hashbrowns I’ll make sure he gets a decent tip, if they’re “black burnt, black burnt, black burnt… with a sliced onion on them.”