This Is Why We Do It

Mitch Albom wrote in this weekend's Parade magazine about a reunion of his high school band (they did it for his 50th birthday, and you can read about it here.)

Well, I never played in a band as a kid. I'm getting to do it now, as a middle-aged empty-nester with a mortgage and progressive lenses. And while I'm sure Mitch enjoyed revisiting his old memories, I'm getting to enjoy those memories as we make them.

Latest case in point: our gig over the weekend at Alameda's Webster Street Jam. Could have been a disaster. No electricity at the stage, so we started 45 minutes late (after only 15 minutes of setup time). No real soundcheck. In my haste to set up, I screwed up and couldn't get sound out of my amp until the rest of the band was playing. Oh, and we were about to premiere a song about Sarah Palin we'd just written (and rehearsed squatting on the floor of an auto repair shop).

But you know what? It all came together. Kids danced. The sun shone. Barbecue smoke wreathed the stage. Grownups laughed at the funny lines and sang along with the familiar ones.

And a first for us: somebody shot video and posted it on YouTube. Eat your heart out, Mitch Albom.

Inside the Q

It's every performer's nightmare: you're up there on stage, and the audience is walking out.

We just played a gig where there was zero chance of that happening. Truly a captive audience.

We played at San Quentin Prison.

The folks who asked us to come perform for a graduation ceremony put on by the prison group "No More Tears" swore we'd come away amazed, and I think I can speak for the entire Eyewitness Blues Band on this one: we got more out of this than did the audience.

"No More Tears" is all about getting inmates to think about their past so they can build a better future. The audience for our set included cons, those who work with them, and family members of those who've been lost to violence. This, my friend, is what they talk about when they say "real life".

Band members Mike Sugerman and Patrick Sedillo brought more than their guitars. They also carried in cameras and audio recording gear. Here's the piece they did for CBS-5, and here's Mike's KCBS radio report.

But with all due respect to Mike and Patrick's talents, there's really no way to convey the impact of going inside. Little things, like the sudden shouting when guards escorted a pair of death-row inmates past. The rule is: every other nearby inmate must turn away and put both hands on the wall. Failure to do so is interpreted as an act of aggression and you can guess what happens next.

I had a number of memorable conversations with inmates about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I had a moment that just blew me away. I was sitting on the floor, watching the graduation ceremony, when it struck me: many of these men are smiling. Not cunning, nasty, I'm-gonna-mess-you-up smiles. Genuine, warm, loving smiles.

How much effort did it take to get from where they started to this?

The Eyewitness Blues Band has been blessed with some remarkable opportunities, but it'll be hard to top the day we went to prison.