That is something that
has been said before, actually sung, by one Bill Callahan. Most recently he sang it to me at the Triple Door.
Jesse and I had received a gift certificate to the Triple Door for our wedding two years ago and have been waiting for the perfect show to use it on. The Triple Door is a dinner theatre sort of place that serves pan asian/thai fusion mumbo jumbo and hosts a huge variety of musical shows. From the Squirrel Nut Zippers, to accordian heroes, to music snob mainstays like Bill Callahan. My brother had been trying to drill it into our heads for years how amazing this artist was, and how much we would fall in love with him. But it took until just this last year for us to realize this, and in the throws of our love affair he scheduled a show at the Triple Door and there it was! Our show, the show to finally use our wedding gift.
We'd been looking forward to this for months. But something happened when I woke up Saturday morning. I got up on the wrong side of the bed as they say. I was one big pile of grumpy. This continued through the afternoon. And then the worse thing that could ever happen to a grumpy me happened. We arrived in Seattle late, and hungry, and no time for a real meal. Extra grumpy. And then!!! J forgot the gift certificate, which was no big deal in reality. But for hungry grumpy me this was devastating. We grabbed quick (and VERY mediocre) appetizers in the Triple Door lounge in the 20 minutes before the doors opened. We met friends in line, found our way to our wonderful seats, ordered drinks, had amazing conversation, and sat through a funny, quirky, electric meets folk band from New Zealand called The Bachelorettes. My grumpiness was a distant memory. And when the lights dimmed again the crowd hushed, and mr. Bill Callahan stepped on stage.
A cellist seated to his right, a violinist to the right of him, another guitarist to the left and in the usual space was a drummer. Mr. Callahan in ranch boots, a thick head of blonde hair, and well fitting jeans scuffled his booted feet to the beat. And then he opened his mouth. And my heart melted. You know when you see a musician live and they destroy even the amazingness found on the recorded versions? When an artist just kills it? An artist you know is amazing, you were waiting for the greatness, and then they just go so far beyond what you expected, in the best way possible? That is what happened on Saturday night. That is what Bill Callahan did. He opened with Diamond Dancer, listen to it now, and went straight into Sycamore, ok now listen to this, and went through the set playing everyones favorites with the sort of ease and grace and beauty you see when an athlete is in the zone. This is just what he does, without having to think about it, he was born to do this. His voice is sincere and deep, you want him to tell you stories forever. He moves strangely, yet fittingly for the music. And the musicians he was playing with were almost as magical. The deep beat of the cello mingling with the depth of his voice. And the playful melancholy of the violin dancing in and out of every song. He was funny between songs. And the crowd was appreciative of every second, which in a town of nary a foot tap to even the greatest of bands, this meant a lot. It was just a really great show.
Once again my grumpiness was proven wrong. It always is. I've never been grumpy for a good reason. And I always feel sheepish after the fact. Even though I was starving by the end of the evening it was worth every second.
Thank you Mr. Callahan, you were a great wedding gift.
And thank you Mr. Ireland, for loving me even in my grumpiest moments, and for reassuring me all day that the show was going to be worth it. It was.
Amuse Bouche literally translates to 'mouth amuser', and it is used as a tease from the chef. A very small bit of food served before a meal. A bite of something that encapsulates what is about to happen with the full meal. Your mouth starts watering for more almost immediately.
