Trivial Pursuits: The Ultimate Music Not-So-Much-Of-A-Challenge-Anym...

Trivial Pursuits: The Ultimate Music Not-So-Much-Of-A-Challenge-Anym...: I recently attended the Ultimate Music Challenge’s Week 3 competition. It sure did bring back warm, and sometimes not so warm, memories. Bu...

The Ultimate Music Not-So-Much-Of-A-Challenge-Anymore

I recently attended the Ultimate Music Challenge’s Week 3 competition. It sure did bring back warm, and sometimes not so warm, memories. But I did stop by the judges table in the middle of the night to tell them how much being there caused me to have the feeling of missing performing there and being part of the festivities.

The UMC is an 11 week long competition, a battle of the cover bands. These groups range from variety dance bands for a non-specific genre to full blown costume wearing, tribute impersonators. Then they’re judged, Ala American Idol, where the judges offer opinion over three open mics for all to hear.


Judge #1 and friend of RTS, Edwin Decker, was at his customary stage right podium position and Alicia Champion, that little musical genius, was seated in the middle when I popped by between acts four out of five.

“Hey, guys. Being here reminds me of how much I miss playing at this event”.

Ed looked me right in the eyes with a smiling reply of “Really”.

“Yea, really, except for one thing”.

“What’s that’?

“It would be the Ultimate Music It’s-Not-So-Much-Of-A-Challenge-Anymore now”. RIMSHOT! Chuckle, chortle, and snickers. NOT TRUE!!!!

Truth be told, Rolling the Stones worked hard, I mean HARD to pull those shows together. When we entered, Jackson Martin (Keith) & I believed that we could win. How weird was THAT? The audacity!

Although it appeared like we steamrolled the competition, Ed reminded me that we squeaked by in the Semi-Finals to get to the finals, primarily because we made a (minor) tactical error in song choice of one far less familiar tune, Rocks Off, the lead track from Exile On Main Street, one of the Stones most revered albums. I was horribly depressed thinking we blew it but the crowd noise factor came through for us. Fortunately and right from the get-go we were able to draw a crowd, and a very large, boisterous one.

Now that two plus full years, three Ronnies and two Chucks have elapsed, the band has gotten tighter still. The stage routines are starting to get second nature, where to move, what to say, what to play. It’s partly that last factor, song choice, that set up winning the finals.

Ed did comment to me that after our hiccup we “slammed” the finals. Thirty minutes of a perfectly constructed set. We need to thank our buddies in Don’t Stop Believin‘ for that. Their lead singer came in with a worn out throat from them playing shows Friday & Saturday nights previous. Too bad, because I think that they could have won it. The tactic that they chose to play the same three tunes at each of their performances. Jackson & I were behind the judges table for their semis show and we said, what the heck?, again? Same songs AGAIN?

So, we had an opportunity to ask Alicia if that was OK in the judges opinion, meaning to repeat songs during the competition. Her reply? “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” was the judges stance. That opened door that we needed.

She was out of town for our first show (our very first performance ever), so we decided to reinsert Brown Sugar from Week 1 and Gimme Shelter from the Semis. Smartest move from the entire competition. It literally paid to attend every other show. We learned from the judges just how to win. All the clues were in their critiques.

So, a big thanks to Viejas Casino and The UMC for kick starting our career. It-Really-Was-A-Challenge after all.


Woodstock Memories, Part 2

The Airplane, as they were called, played everything we knew, and we everything. Grace Slick and company. As a major fan, I was starstruck. They must have been exhausted, though, ending the set approximately 7AM! Must have been assisted by Mother's Little Helpers. Gee, do ya think?

Wavy Gravy, the funny little man with the straw hat, announced breakfast in bed for 500,000. HA! I remember bread being tossed at the audience. We didn't get a crumb. We must have been famished, but it just plain ole didn't matter. We were at Woodstock! No time to close eyes and rest, although we tried, it was too exciting.

Plenty of announcements between then and Day 3. "Get off the towers, people", "Don't eat the brown acid, man". Two classics, I know, but we were there when these words were uttered.

Not much happened that I recall, other than losing mt friend Frank's sister, Cathy (where the heck did she go? Even she can't remember) until 1PM when one of the hottest acts of the day, Joe Cocker and the Grease Band, took center stage. Great set! A Little Help From My Friends was everything the movie showed and more. Thrilling.

Then, Look! Up in the sky! It's a Bird! It's A Plane! It's .... BIG BLACK THUNDER STORM CLOUDS ... swiftly moving across the horizon. Frank, myself and I can't remember who else took off into the woods for shelter and frankly "relief". Nature called.

It flat out POURED for about 30 minutes as we crammed under the tent of one of the many vendors. Couldn't budge an inch. After the storm passed, we emerged to muddied grounds. Mud EVERYWHERE! We worked our way back to the slope and what a slippery slope it was. Mud 3 to 4 inches deep that wouldn't quit. I clearly remember splitting up then to look for Cathy - where the heck was she? Don't ask me how, but somehow we managed to run into one another right before we wanted to leave (breathe a sigh of relief).

I made my way to the stage area as the crew squeegeed off the standing rain water. The infamous mud sliding scene you all know from the movie was happening about 30 yards stage right at the lowest edge of land that no longer sloped. I was standing just to one side as someone was filming the happy hippies who used Mother Nature as an organic Slip-N-Slide. Wacky. Who knew about a movie being documented. We were all pretty much oblivious to anything like that.

Country Joe and The Fish were up next. Not a favorite of mine, but fun. A short pause for the cause as nightfall, and a chill that the cleared canopy of sky provided, arrived. Ten Years After hit the stage. The night lights were electrifying but the cold, damp atmosphere caused our tired & hungry bodies to cave in to reality.

We rounded up everyone before the end of their set and decided to split, leaving the soaked blankets we brought behind in the mountain garbage you all know from the film. What a mess! What a muddy disaster!

As we got home around midnight, I was the first person to be dropped off, exhausted beyond repair at that point, shoes totally encased in mud. My mom was shaking her head in disbelief at the sight as she met me at the door. Those hallowed, muddied shoes were like baby's first bronzed shoes.

The years keep piling up but the memories remain as vivid as ever. Long Live the spirit of Woodstock! “Three days of fun and music, and nothing BUT fun and music!” Thanks, Max Yasgur and your beautiful farm.

Woodstock Memories, Part 1

42 years ago in a little sleepy upstate New York village called Bethel, the world came calling. And so as lemmings to the sea, we responded to the call.

The Woodstock Music & Arts Fair was billed as the music event to end all events. At the then-bloated ticket price of $6 a day and $18 for all three (no discount!), it was a real bargain, although at the time seemed rather high. However, we all know it was a virtual who's who of rock & folk icons. There was even a strong yet unfounded rumor that the Beatles would make an appearance.

The event dominated the TV news. Cars strewn all across the area and backed up on the 17, if I recall correctly. We could see them for miles and miles and miles. Kids and young adults of the hippie generation came from literally all over, with VW buses covered in signs like "Woodstock or bust" painted on their broadsides.

Woodstock was soon declared a 'free concert' as hoards knocked down the hastily erected wired fences. You can't keep a crowd that size back. We wanted our WTV and we wanted now and free. Yep, that was My Generation, alright! Once that was announced, and living relatively close to the site, we decided Friday evening go take the ride up and experience it. The rub? Mt band, Chapter 4, was just out of High School and playing at a local topless (yes, you read that right) bar, two of us under age. The topless thing got boring after two weeks. I have a saying - seen two, seen 'em all. But right after Saturday's show, six of us piled into my friend's Chevy Bel Aire (I thought it was an Impala, but Frank corrected me) at 2:05AM, literally one minute after finishing.

Approximately 3 hours later, we arrived at the site with the sun coming up. Miles of cars along the highway. We were estatic that we were able to get as close to the site as possible, probably a mile, maybe less. We parked in front of someone's nice, rustic country home. I seem to recall a woman welcoming us warmly. We asked to use the restroom and she happily invited us 'young people' in. Amazing hospitality, but that's part of the saga that was Woodstock.

Our excitement built as we trekked to the site, passing more and more activity along the way. Then ... Nirvana. When you got to the top of that hill and looked down upon the crowd, and the stage so far away, it was breathtaking! Truly a magnificent sight to behold. We made our way down, about half distance from the crest to the stage. God knows how many we stepped on but not one peep or argument. No such thing as Concert Rage. As we claimed our spots and laid out individual blankets on a slightly dampened ground from the previous night's precipitation, Jefferson Airplane took the stage.