another personal historic landmark falls by the wayside
now playing: dan fogelberg, "to the morning"
tonight finds me at work, trying to piece together some semblance of reason and functionality from the shards and pieces of a hopelessly obsolete backup system that doesn't play well with others...and of course, the responsibility for doing so seems to come to rest on my shoulders, somehow. not sure how this keeps happening, but it keeps happening.
i put this off until the last possible hour, as i had the kids this weekend, and didn't want to waste an excessive amount of their time here at work. it was a good weekend for kid time - jayda's basketball tournament was first thing on saturday, and they played better than they have all season. they came in third, and came within three points of playing for the championship - the team that they lost to (27-24), played the team that won to within two points at the final buzzer of the last game, and jayda's team missed a three-pointer at the buzzer that would've tied the game.
i spent a whole lot of time on the edge of my seat, to say the least.
jayda's team plays their final game of the season tomorrow, against the team that won the championship - and if they play the way they did on saturday, they stand to win. i think they needed saturday to pull their spirits up.
saturday night, after a series of naps, we all convened downstairs to watch movies together, which we almost never do, and it felt good to have everyone in the same room, in each others' company. this doesn't often happen at my house, and it was good to have nothing else to do for once.
but the phone rang saturday night any number of times - one of the calls was scooter, the booking agent for the grape street pub in philadelphia, where i used to host songwriters' nights ages ago. certainly, if i made a list of everyone i'd potentially get a phone call from, he'd be in the bottom five - but i digress.
apparently, "the grape" is closing its doors, and they're having the last ever monday night songwriters' night tomorrow night, and he asked if i'd consider coming down and playing a short set....i said yes, although i've been having some second thoughts in the time since, but it should be ok. i don't know if i'm prepared for a nostalgia-fest with this particular group of people.
during the years when my musical career held promise, i used to host the songwriters' night there - it was during a period (1994-1997 or so) when the philadelphia music scene was vibrant...when there were bands that were being scouted by labels and there were articles in the philadelphia inquirer and billboard about the scene and the bands in it - personally had a review of my album in a couple of prominent magazines...and it felt like something was happening. it was, to me, the equivalent of what it must have been like in the early seventies in LA at places like the Troubadour, when people like jackson browne and glenn frey and don henley and dan fogelberg used to show up for "hoots" and play on each other's demos...before everyone had record deals and were too cool to hang out anymore.
it might seem like an exaggeration to compare "the grape" to that period of time, but i doubt anyone else who was there would say so.
we used to close the doors at 1 AM, and then the actual party started. we'd fall into these little impromptu jam sessions that would go on into all hours of the night. during that time, there were many nights when i wouldn't leave for home until 4 AM. some nights, we'd actually shut down the stage and sit on the bar and play, while "uncle tom" del colle tended bar for those of us who stuck around. tom was the soul of that place as much as anyone was.
it didn't occur to me to ask if he'd be there when scooter called.
later on, as the scene degenerated into an atrophied, stagnant version of its former self, the grape would become my own personal "groundhog day" - every time i'd go there, the same people would be standing in the same place, talking to the same people about the same people as the last time i was there. at one point, i was relieved of my duties hosting monday nights - they didn't have the guts to tell me themselves, i had to hear it from garry lee in the lobby of a hotel in memphis, tennessee during the folk alliance conference. they asked me back a few months later, but it was never the same as it was the first round, and i eventually found my way back outside, and never really went back - i was there a handful of times since, the most recent being about three years ago for a gig with my friend charlie degenhart.
as has been said many times, you can't go back home again.
i wrote a song, a long time ago, called "uncle tom's cafe" that i might have to dig out when i get home and re-learn for tomorrow night. it'd be a fitting epitaph, i think.
so, if you're not doing anything monday night, come out and help us say goodbye.
for me, the grape closed a long time ago.
down here beneath the big steel track
the breeze hangs in the air
in a little while, the sky turns black
tonight we'll all end up down there
the lights go up and the songs begin
the music plays and your friends file in
and everything's just the way it's been
it's just another day
that we'll all get up and play
at uncle tom's cafe
there are faces painted on the wall
people circled 'round the bar
you hear the rumors rise and fall
it reminds you where you are
the conversations that the song withstands
you watch your heroes slipping through your hands
say goodbye to your best laid plans
too soon they fade away
but you might find them here someday
at uncle tom's cafe
you used to waste away these nights tossing dreams into the wind
now all the time you spent down here - it means nothing in the end
the nights are falling early now
the winds' picked up a chill
we all must walk upon this wire
we all end up where we will
now the music's playing just like before
but your friends don't come around no more
you wonder just what you do this for
you never thought you'd see the day
but all good things go the way
of uncle tom's cafe
you know, these moments fade away
but we might find them here someday
and we can all get up and play
at uncle tom's cafe
uncle tom's cafe by tom hampton, 12/19/95
tonight finds me at work, trying to piece together some semblance of reason and functionality from the shards and pieces of a hopelessly obsolete backup system that doesn't play well with others...and of course, the responsibility for doing so seems to come to rest on my shoulders, somehow. not sure how this keeps happening, but it keeps happening.
i put this off until the last possible hour, as i had the kids this weekend, and didn't want to waste an excessive amount of their time here at work. it was a good weekend for kid time - jayda's basketball tournament was first thing on saturday, and they played better than they have all season. they came in third, and came within three points of playing for the championship - the team that they lost to (27-24), played the team that won to within two points at the final buzzer of the last game, and jayda's team missed a three-pointer at the buzzer that would've tied the game.
i spent a whole lot of time on the edge of my seat, to say the least.
jayda's team plays their final game of the season tomorrow, against the team that won the championship - and if they play the way they did on saturday, they stand to win. i think they needed saturday to pull their spirits up.
saturday night, after a series of naps, we all convened downstairs to watch movies together, which we almost never do, and it felt good to have everyone in the same room, in each others' company. this doesn't often happen at my house, and it was good to have nothing else to do for once.
but the phone rang saturday night any number of times - one of the calls was scooter, the booking agent for the grape street pub in philadelphia, where i used to host songwriters' nights ages ago. certainly, if i made a list of everyone i'd potentially get a phone call from, he'd be in the bottom five - but i digress.
apparently, "the grape" is closing its doors, and they're having the last ever monday night songwriters' night tomorrow night, and he asked if i'd consider coming down and playing a short set....i said yes, although i've been having some second thoughts in the time since, but it should be ok. i don't know if i'm prepared for a nostalgia-fest with this particular group of people.
during the years when my musical career held promise, i used to host the songwriters' night there - it was during a period (1994-1997 or so) when the philadelphia music scene was vibrant...when there were bands that were being scouted by labels and there were articles in the philadelphia inquirer and billboard about the scene and the bands in it - personally had a review of my album in a couple of prominent magazines...and it felt like something was happening. it was, to me, the equivalent of what it must have been like in the early seventies in LA at places like the Troubadour, when people like jackson browne and glenn frey and don henley and dan fogelberg used to show up for "hoots" and play on each other's demos...before everyone had record deals and were too cool to hang out anymore.
it might seem like an exaggeration to compare "the grape" to that period of time, but i doubt anyone else who was there would say so.
we used to close the doors at 1 AM, and then the actual party started. we'd fall into these little impromptu jam sessions that would go on into all hours of the night. during that time, there were many nights when i wouldn't leave for home until 4 AM. some nights, we'd actually shut down the stage and sit on the bar and play, while "uncle tom" del colle tended bar for those of us who stuck around. tom was the soul of that place as much as anyone was.
it didn't occur to me to ask if he'd be there when scooter called.
later on, as the scene degenerated into an atrophied, stagnant version of its former self, the grape would become my own personal "groundhog day" - every time i'd go there, the same people would be standing in the same place, talking to the same people about the same people as the last time i was there. at one point, i was relieved of my duties hosting monday nights - they didn't have the guts to tell me themselves, i had to hear it from garry lee in the lobby of a hotel in memphis, tennessee during the folk alliance conference. they asked me back a few months later, but it was never the same as it was the first round, and i eventually found my way back outside, and never really went back - i was there a handful of times since, the most recent being about three years ago for a gig with my friend charlie degenhart.
as has been said many times, you can't go back home again.
i wrote a song, a long time ago, called "uncle tom's cafe" that i might have to dig out when i get home and re-learn for tomorrow night. it'd be a fitting epitaph, i think.
so, if you're not doing anything monday night, come out and help us say goodbye.
for me, the grape closed a long time ago.
down here beneath the big steel track
the breeze hangs in the air
in a little while, the sky turns black
tonight we'll all end up down there
the lights go up and the songs begin
the music plays and your friends file in
and everything's just the way it's been
it's just another day
that we'll all get up and play
at uncle tom's cafe
there are faces painted on the wall
people circled 'round the bar
you hear the rumors rise and fall
it reminds you where you are
the conversations that the song withstands
you watch your heroes slipping through your hands
say goodbye to your best laid plans
too soon they fade away
but you might find them here someday
at uncle tom's cafe
you used to waste away these nights tossing dreams into the wind
now all the time you spent down here - it means nothing in the end
the nights are falling early now
the winds' picked up a chill
we all must walk upon this wire
we all end up where we will
now the music's playing just like before
but your friends don't come around no more
you wonder just what you do this for
you never thought you'd see the day
but all good things go the way
of uncle tom's cafe
you know, these moments fade away
but we might find them here someday
and we can all get up and play
at uncle tom's cafe
uncle tom's cafe by tom hampton, 12/19/95
posted by tom at 23:49
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