It is reassuring to know that so many New Yorkers are following my diary. I went out for my final jog around Central Park yesterday and was surprised to find that my usual gentile, largely femininem company had been replaced by vociferous supporters cheering me on, and that there were now drinks stations at regular intervals lest I suffer from dehydration in my feeble efforts to keep up with he young Turks haring past me. Yes - I had stumbled into the New York Road Runners 60 kilometre “ultra marathon”.. If I was somewhat stiff during the Royal Package yesterday evening, it was entirely self inflicted due to an unhealthy competitive gene, which grown men should have controlled long ago (but then, we are not grown men in such moments which is precisely the problem - the grissled exterior is just a disguise for the child inside). As that little known standup comedian, Havin Drumminfun put it at the Royal Package last night - "these things were fine in my twenties, but now I am in my early thirties I need to take a bit more care".
I listened to the two New York show from various vantage points - including under the balcony downstairs:
and the very back at the top:
The Beacon, in all its refurbished splendour, proved to be a very good sounding hall. Or perhaps just an excellent sounding band with an excellent crew. Ironically the very front seats (the only ones I couldn't sample) may have been the most sonically compromised due to their proximity to those three drummers - although those seats come with different benefits. (With the Royal Packages we offer a preference between "towards the front" and "further back" within our reserved front section for that reason. )
The time in New York was WAG’s (Wives and Girlfriends) week for many of us, including me (just my wife – no girlfriends in my case, for the avoidance of doubt). We have now soldiered on to Greensburg alone. Four gigs to go.
Some photos of the trail we leave behind.
The Egg in Albany:
The Miller Symphony in Allentown :
The Paramount in Long Island :
