Daron's Guitar Chronicles: Vol 4

224 BACK ON THE CHAIN GANG

I admit I was picturing a typical wallflower woman who tags along with her “man” to band stuff. I’m not sure why, since none of us had a girl like that, but there was a type, and I was uncomfortable about how even women who weren’t that type got treated like it. Call it the Carynne Effect.

As we got out of the van, though, Louis clued me in on why I shouldn’t worry. “Sh’ree taught me everything I know about lights,” he said. “She’s the real genius.”

Ziggy’s hair garnered a few looks as we scoped out a place to sit, but that was about it. In the city no one would’ve even looked twice, but we were jut into the suburbs here, where space aliens were rare. We’d already ordered when Sh’ree came in.

“Louis, you’re an incredible dork!” She had some kind of an accent, Australian maybe.

He stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “Why’s that, love?”

“This isn’t even the bar I told you to go to. But I saw your car out front and figured I’d look and see… sure enough.”

“Is the other place better?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her.

She plopped down in it. “That isn’t the point. The point is, if I didn’t know you’re the kind of dope who would just go into a place because he parked in front of it, instead of the place where he’s supposed to be meeting people, I’d still be sitting over there, wondering where the hell you are.” She reached a hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Shiree. Nice to meet you.”

She shook my, then Ziggy’s hand, then waved to the waitress and ordered something stiff.

“So you’re the guys he’s working for?” she asked.

Before I could say anything Louis jumped in. “Daron here used to be in Nomad, you remember, Remo Cutler’s band?”

“Yes! How is Remo, anyway?”

“He’s fine. Still living in L.A.,” I said.

“He’s a nut to live there,” Shiree said with a shake of her head. “God, I hated the West Coast. Plus the schools are terrible.”

“Oh, um, is that why you’re here?”

“Pretty much. It isn’t for the weather, that’s for damn sure.” She took the shot glass eagerly from the waitress and knocked it back, then daintily set the empty glass upon the still pristine napkin. “Plus there’s plenty of work around here, at least at my level.”

“Doing lights?” I guessed.

“Yeah. between my regular gig with the Wang Center and Boston Ballet, and all the moonlighting for Boston Center for the Arts, plus child support, it adds up to enough.” She punched Louis on the arm playfully. “So what do you got cooking with these guys?” she asked him. “Big arena show is it?”

“Well, that’s the challenge. This tour they’re on, three different size venues, and they go from being headliner, to one of four bands, back to being headliner.” He shook his head.

“Nowhere you haven’t worked before though,” Shiree said.

“No.”

“Piece of cake then,” she said.

“Yeah, we need to work out a couple of set pieces, two to three big effects I don’t want to overuse, and the rest standard.”

“That song you were singing this morning, that’s them?”

“Candlelight,” he said to me and Ziggy. “Yeah. That’s going to be one of the set pieces.”

He went on to describe our thoughts about the single overhead spot.

She shook her head. “Some of these venues, it won’t be enough. You don’t want to make it seem like, I mean… here.” She took a napkin and drew a candle on it, with rings of light around it like ripples. “Your downspot, it’s backwards. The place where it’s dark when a candle’s lit is right at the base of the candle, while the light goes everywhere else. You want something like this.” She drew beams of light emanating from the candle and then looked at Ziggy. “I take it you’re the candle.”

“I suppose I am,” he said, looking at her curiously.

“Are you talking lasers or something here, dear?” Louis asked.

“God, no. Too cheesy, too expensive, and fussy as hell to work with. Just do it with a Solar 250.”

“Hm, that could work.”

“What’s a Solar 250?” I asked.

Louis chuckled. “It’s…”

“Kind of like a light, kind of like a projector,” Shiree said. “And not expensive as these things go. It’ll make it look like sunbeams come out of your butt,” she said, raising an eyebrow at Ziggy.

“Suits me,” he said and crossed his legs.

“You got one at the Wang I can borrow,” Louis asked, “just to show these guys?”

“Yeah, I probably do, but it’s your balls in a sling if you break it. By which I mean all of your balls.” She looked around at the three of us.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.