Back in the touring days I mentioned, Doug & Judi & I used to do 3 shows a day, then have late afternoons and evenings free to hike and play and write new songs and stories (and, as Judi reminded me, consume too much alcohol and play too much Ms PacMan. I don't recall that. No wonder!).
Anyway, Tigger would often take his nap backstage in an open guitar case, which is where he was one rainy morning. We were onstage performing. I had just begun singing a Christine Lavin song. Her songs are funny, and usually get a good laugh. (She's also a dynamite person, who does a lot for other folk musicians. Catch her show if she's in your town - it's very different). The problem was, the audience started laughing at the wrong place. It was too early in the song. The laughter got louder and stronger.
I looked at Doug nervously. What was I doing wrong? He lifted his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders and kept on playing. I turned to Judy, who was looking helpless while singing harmony and saw a familiar face behind her. Tigger had decided to join the act. He had walked out on stage, sat down, and was watching the audience with a bemused expression. They were roaring. I had to introduce the star of the show, our mascot, our ombuttsman - our peacemaker and everyone's pal - Tigger! He received his accolades with grace and positively strolled to center stage while everyone applauded. He gave his green eye-blink a few times, then turned to me with a cat-who-ate-the-cream look.
Then he decided he had to make his exit under the back curtain instead of stage left. In order to do this, he had to slide under the curtain, giving everyone an eye-full of his backside, which he proceeded to wriggle and wraggle until he was all the way past the curtain. The audience was roaring. Even a funny song was anticlimactic after that, so we rocked out with an upbeat original and rode the tide of good feeling all the way to the end of the show. As for Tigger? He had gone back to napping. He couldn't see what the big deal was about all this stage nonsense anyway. Get the show done and let's go EXPLORING!
That was his motto, along with love me, pet me, feed me and keep me toasty warm. And keep those guitar things out of my cozy places, for Bastet's sake.
Editor's note:
Last article |
Story menu |
Main index |
Top of article |
Local menu |
Next article |