But instead, it’s titled “How The Accordion Came Between Me and Butch”.The Hotel Cafe in Hollywood was the setting. As I dodged the rain to get into the venue, I happened to see a musician checking in, who said he was with Butch Walker’s band.
Right Place.
He was also inquiring about getting passes for his friends who were coming to the show. Since the evening was a benefit for LAFD Spark of Love Toy Drive, musicians didn’t get any passes for this show.
Right Time.
I offered up my two extra tickets to the guy. Followed with a “and you can introduce me to Butch”. He agreed, “no problem!”
I was giddy. As I reached into my purse to hand him my business card, he slipped through the door calling over his shoulder “I’ll see you inside”
But…wait…
There were hundreds of people inside. Hundreds. But not my “In”. He was nowhere to be found. Butch wasn’t going on for three hours, he probably wasn’t even there yet, so I relaxed with a drink, my camera and a standing spot close enough to get a few shots of some great talent!
There was Meiko, who looked like a little girl in her candy cane striped tights and pig tails, but sang about what happened when she fantasized about having a hot affair with Santa before killing him, because her manager suggested she write a Christmas song. This girl has spunk. And lungs.
There were the The Weepies, who’s harmonizing is breathtaking, and music makes you want more.
.
And, of course, there was Butch Walker. Whose stage presence makes you dance, and who sang four Christmas songs, including Little Drummer boy and Winter Wonderland. With an accompanying accordion player among the six others on stage. An accordion player who never introduced me to Butch. Oh well.
Right Place
Right Time
Wrong Want.
I’m okay with that. But I don’t trust accordion players anymore. I think that’s only fair.
Printed by permission. Visit Debbie's blog @ http://www.exurbmagazine.com/
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