Mainz, Germany – 2015

Mainz, Germany – 2015

I’ve been here before several times and the last time was two years ago. But I always forget and it’s right on the River Rheine. And this time, we’ll play a new venue for me from a boat that IS literally docked on the Rheine and will play to people on the shore. That’s another new one. When I woke up that morning and looked out my hotel window, the venue was visible from a far off audience standpoint. A broad, flat terrace leading from the front of the hotel to cement stairs that went right down to the shoreline. The audience was looking at the stage and performers on a boat with the River Rheine flowing past…and I do mean flowing! You could see ripples as it urgently moved along. No stagnant stream here.

All of this put the first row of seated audience people about 40 yards from the stage, and as per my previous discussions about distances to the first row, I wasn’t happy. But all of the audience seemed to be accustomed to that and they received our messages from the stage really loud and clear and responded in a way that gave us high certainty.

The opening act, Leona Berlin, was a quintet of students from University of Mainz who highlighted the audience with their young, jazzy program (later they all came to say hello and we talked about me coming to hang out with them at their music school sometime in the future).

I and everybody were so glad for a cool and overcast day. In a certain respect, there was no way to lose tonight.

Once again I’m struck with the obvious results of the long, long relationship I have with this audience and their mothers and uncles. You may remember that sometimes I describe this as being almost as though I was a young neighborhood kid that emerged onto the music scene from some local town who did well at home and went off to the rest of Europe with their best wishes. They feel to be part of that little success story. And I feel it too.

After a couple of encores, I was quietly whispering to myself, “Thank God”. This is the part of the tour where my throat is glad for any little break it can get.

So off we go back down the stairs to my great little dressing room with a grey haired, rosy checked attendant/guard who could have been the real life model for the little old sausage maker cartoon. He was shy and a little nervous about my American over-exuberance. By the end of the night he was smiling and had warmed up. He helped me with the German word for “fly”. Flurgen. That’s what happened that night. We flew!

Now it’s off to Switzerland! See you there.

Love,

Al