Tightest/Coolest
It’s midnight.
Or it doesn’t matter.
Sitting at gate D31, departing in hours for the last flight home.
Until then, an egregious, omnivorous HVAC hum that moves everything in and out of you from here to there and back again. And lighting that’s fit to wound you.
Travelling all day, plus the time zone shimmy, plus the Adversary, has me atremble.
Two months ago I packed for more climate changes than I could count into a suitcase, and headed for the door. Twenty-eight hours ago, I was alive and well in the beautiful embrace of a generous audience. Two hours ago, at a y in an eternal terminal hallway, I bid the Grief/Mystery ensemble farewell, I to my connection and they to their luggage. Just as they slipped from view I thanked them, for everything. We hadn’t said a word about the last show in L.A – last night – being the last show on the schedule. Watching them head for home, all of that rose up in my throat.
I’ll never not miss all this, I guess.
*
Months ago we booked just seven shows, just in case I didn’t have it after all.
There’s no knowing these things ahead of time. The stage – not your plan – is the revelator.
The graces and mercies and saints are with you, or …
You find out on the road, and in the lights – very late in the planning process.
I had it. Thanks to all that has been my staunchest companion, it was there when I reached for it.
And this Caldera quartet is the most alive, the tightest, the coolest version of the Nights of Grief and Mystery band that has ever been.
Proof: at sound check in L.A. (folks, the house tech guys in this town have seen it all), after three of four numbers, GH asked the dark house whether they had what they needed to get their levels right. Out of the dark, this is what we heard: “Dude, you guys are the self-cleaning oven of sound checks.” Which, in musician code, means our stuff was tight, and right.
*
Getting this little tour to fly was a very hard go. Things have changed in the world since our last go. People are careful with their money, careful with their evenings. Governments are larcenous with their tariffs and visa fees. The numbers aren’t all in, but this is no business for the faint hearted. As a business plan, this is no business at all.
It had me wondering whether I’d seen my time, whether the people had spoken, whether I was done – a wondering that is called for, often.
In the book signing lines after the shows, I listened carefully to the people, to see what it meant to them. That’s what I relied on, finally: not the numbers. The voices.
The testimonials, the amens, the prayers, the thanks answered me.
Sometimes life gets clarifying.
So, with help – loads of local help – it may be Grief/Mystery in the UK in May, and maybe more North America in the summer. And maybe Aus/NZ after that.
— Stephen Jenkinson, MTS, MSW
Founder of Orphan Wisdom
Learn more about Caldera here.
