Calendar Girl Blog: The Salt Lick Boys
The geriatric yellow dog, Tully, is melting into a puddle on the deck. We've discussed him moving into the shade but he is finding the heat to be therapeutic to his stiff old joints so he's decided not to listen to me. Rather than argue (you never win with a lab) I've moved into the shade as testament that my brain is bigger and I'm smarter.
So there. Na, na.
Last evening, I attended the 50th birthday celebration of James and Val, a couple I've known pretty much since moving to Guelph in 1981. In a previous incarnation, when I worked in the music industry, I was James' booking agent and publicist. I spent ten years booking gigs for him (and his various bands) all over North America. During the same time period I took a three year stint (89-91) as Artistic Director of Guelph's Hillside Music Festival.
Despite not being a musician myself,(my musical claim to fame was that I owned a stereo) pretty much my entire world was layered with live, original music and the folks that made it. Never would a week pass without me catching a couple of acts or working a gig, listening to demo tapes or attending a recording session.
But time marches on. I changed vocation to seek my own art, unplugged from that scene and now only on occasion venture out to catch a show.
Still, live original music owns a piece of my heart and rests fondly in my memory bank.
So imagine my delight when the 'The Salt Lick Boys' took the stage to entertain the B-day crowd revilers.
James and Val have two sons, Evan and Geordie, currently riding around their second decade of life and both ridiculously talented musicians. Together with two other sons of musicians, they took the stage. Evan on keyboard sported a sharp white dinner jacket, big dark shades and close cut hair, head bobbing rhythmically with the groove and confidence I associate with world class. Geordie, sweet faced, with a 50's flip and guitar slung loose like a holster was front man. He and the other two lads, dazzled with swank maroon and grey jackets and 'slippery shoes' that afforded them moves that Elvis would have coveted.
The audience was on full perma grin and the birthday girl(mom) and boy(dad) beamed like lighthouses. It was an electrifying show. The audience erupted with bellowing, whistles and rousing applause time and again.
After the encore, Calendar Girl asked Geordie to sign her arm. He bashfully declined.
The old yellow dog finally took my advise and got out of the sun. Of course, Tully claimed it was his idea.
Calendar Girl
Publishing a calendar for you to record your life on.
So there. Na, na.
Last evening, I attended the 50th birthday celebration of James and Val, a couple I've known pretty much since moving to Guelph in 1981. In a previous incarnation, when I worked in the music industry, I was James' booking agent and publicist. I spent ten years booking gigs for him (and his various bands) all over North America. During the same time period I took a three year stint (89-91) as Artistic Director of Guelph's Hillside Music Festival.
Despite not being a musician myself,(my musical claim to fame was that I owned a stereo) pretty much my entire world was layered with live, original music and the folks that made it. Never would a week pass without me catching a couple of acts or working a gig, listening to demo tapes or attending a recording session.
But time marches on. I changed vocation to seek my own art, unplugged from that scene and now only on occasion venture out to catch a show.
Still, live original music owns a piece of my heart and rests fondly in my memory bank.
So imagine my delight when the 'The Salt Lick Boys' took the stage to entertain the B-day crowd revilers.
James and Val have two sons, Evan and Geordie, currently riding around their second decade of life and both ridiculously talented musicians. Together with two other sons of musicians, they took the stage. Evan on keyboard sported a sharp white dinner jacket, big dark shades and close cut hair, head bobbing rhythmically with the groove and confidence I associate with world class. Geordie, sweet faced, with a 50's flip and guitar slung loose like a holster was front man. He and the other two lads, dazzled with swank maroon and grey jackets and 'slippery shoes' that afforded them moves that Elvis would have coveted.
The audience was on full perma grin and the birthday girl(mom) and boy(dad) beamed like lighthouses. It was an electrifying show. The audience erupted with bellowing, whistles and rousing applause time and again.
After the encore, Calendar Girl asked Geordie to sign her arm. He bashfully declined.
The old yellow dog finally took my advise and got out of the sun. Of course, Tully claimed it was his idea.
Calendar Girl
Publishing a calendar for you to record your life on.
posted by Sue Richards at 11:53 AM
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