Davenport: Classic cars, Bix's grave, jazz, sundeck, battle of the bands, quality time in the bar

I got up before Geoff at 8, and had a shower. I was downstairs at 9 to find out whether there was some way to get to Bix's gravesite for the Bix Memorial Band. Helpfully, there was no one around in red shirts, at all, apart from one guy who was helping the band load their stuff. I went up to him and asked whether there was a shuttle to the cemetery, and he said no. So I asked whether he could suggest a way to get there. He said that he would be driving one of the classic cars (the Bix Society's green Model A Ford), and that if he had any spare seats after the band were catered for, I could tag along with him. He asked me to wait, and so I ran up to get my camera. I came back down, ate a muesli bar, and didn't have to wait long before this guy beckoned me outside. He had no passengers except me! He opened the door for me, and fired up the old beast. There were no seat belts.

The convoy took off east along River Drive - we were the second car in line. Tony and I chatted - he seemed to think it was his lucky day. At the cemetery, we wound around rolling hills and met up with a gazebo, lots of cars, and hundreds of other people. We got out, people (including me) took photos of the parked classic car procession, and Tony and I found Bix's grave and paid our respects. Someone had put a cut-out of Bix grinning next to the gravestone, but Liz Beiderbecke-Hart hates it, so she took it down.

Just after 10, the VP of the Bix Society said some things, they laid two wreaths (one from the family) and Liz read a poem that someone had written about Bix, and there was a quick prayer. Then the band played. They weren't very good. I moved around on the grass between other graves, looking for shade. The band finally finished, and Tony whisked me off back to the Blackhawk. On the way, a Sheriff overtook us. When we stopped next to him at a set of lights, Tony asked jokingly if he'd been speeding. The answer came back: 'probably'. He said he'd swap with Tony any time, though. It was a nice little interaction.

Tony dropped me off, and I went to get breakfast at Urban Grind. I had my normal chai, and two poached eggs with wheat toast and rosemary potatoes. It wasn't as disgusting as it sounds. I then headed up to the Gold Room to see Andy Schumm, and it was already packed, so I tried the overflow video link in the Davenport Room. It was fine, but the mics weren't picking up Andy well enough to hear the subtleties, so I tried my luck in the main room. I could really hear Andy that much better (the Putnam had had the best acoustics by far) but I was happy enough to stand in the doorway behind the sound guy on the right. Andy said an interesting thing about the earliest recordings having more emphasis on the ensemble sections, and short solo breaks instead of whole chorus solos. It rang true.

After that gig, I went back upstairs and got my bikini on and headed to the pool area. The sundeck was already occupied by a guy listening to his mp3 player. I took the other sun lounge. Before long, he spoke to me. He turned out to be a very nice major in the US Army who was stationed at the Rock Island Arsenal for six months and living on the eleventh floor of the Blackhawk. Wow. We chatted for a long time (so I didn't get much of my diary written) - he's been posted in all sorts of trouble spots in the world, lived in Egypt for six months, and now trying to sort out all manner of contract problems at the Arsenal, which produces everything from missiles to handgun rounds, and is one of five in the US. He asked me lots of questions about myself.

He went for a swim, and invited me to, but I had to get moving down to the River Music Experience to catch Jim Cullum. Geoff had said that they were the most famous band in the US, and I incorrectly took that to mean that they were overrated. They're extremely good, and stylistically excellent. Jim's playing is a bit wavery, but his clarinet player was great, and extremely tasteful, and his trombonist was very good. I enjoyed their set. They've been a band since the 60s, with some changes of personnel obviously. I took some photos of memorabilia on the walls of the museum, and headed back to the hotel, via the supermarket to get a ham salad roll again. I spread it with the other half of the avocado, and headed back to the pool and sundeck. John had gone, but I ate my lunch and wrote some diary and had a swim. I tried the cold pool, but found it too cold, so began with the hot tub, which was 46 degrees. I made myself get in the pool, and did a few laps (about six), and it was very nice to be swimming again.

I headed back down, and got ready for the evening's music. The volunteers were helpfully marshalling punters to any empty seats, and so I got a reasonable seat on the right, at the back of the first block. The Statesmen of Jazz were once again very good - I was keen to hear more of them. Randy Sandke was incredibly loud, but great, and the vibes player again impressed me. As an encore, he sat at the piano with Dick Hyman and played a really cool duet. The Wolverines were next. Geoff was nearly inaudible compared to Randy. The tunes they played were embarrassingly unsuitable as well. It wasn't bad otherwise.

After them was the West End Band again, with Dave Boedding sitting in. They were really excellent, and I decided to get their CD. Mike Bezin played a few two-trumpet numbers with Andy - he's good. Leah sang Button Up Your Overcoat very nicely. At the end, Dave played a Fats Waller solo (Josh said it was called something that I can't remember - about fingers?), which was stunningly good, and which got a huge roar from the crowd. I'd chatted to the man on my left before their set, and he left when it was over. While Vince's and Josh's bands were setting up, another guy took his place and proceeded to talk my ear off. I made the mistake of telling him I was going to Chicago next and so he insisted on giving me his details, asking the nice woman on the other side of me to borrow a pen. After the bands started, he continued to try to talk to me, and I continued to tell him to shut up.

The two bands were absolutely squashed onto the stage, and watching them set up had been entertainment itself. Vince's band started with two tunes and Josh's band replied with two tunes. Vince's band sounded like the powerhouse it is, but Josh's band made a tentative start, which I suspect might have been to do with the sound not being right. Josh didn't even have a microphone for a while, and so Vince was announcing his tunes for him. They got down to single tunes each, and Josh's band started playing out and getting more confident. I think they did wonderfully beside such a monster of a band. Josh paid tribute to Vince for helping get him started.

They had a break, and annoying guy went to the bar to get even more drunk. I had a long chat to the nice lady next to me, who was a music teacher from Nashville. She was telling me about a choral style called shape or something where up to four voices stand in a square and they only use certain syllables from the sol-fa system. Unusual. Her daughter is an operatic mezzo. Very nice lady. I was hoping horrid man wouldn't come back, but sadly he did.

The bands only had about half an hour left to play, and the charts got gradually faster and weirder. Vince's band had done both Dippermouth and Cushion Foot Stomp, and then they pulled out Barnacle Bill the Sailor, which had an utterly hilarious vocal from Vince. Josh replied with a bizarre thing featuring snatches of the Wedding March. (Geoff, in passing, said he could have sworn that was Vince's band - and it's true - the gap narrowed considerably as the evening wore on.) Then both bands played their own versions of Stampede, and then both bands played Davenport Blues together. Sadly, only Vince's band played solos, which I thought was a bit unfair, but it sounded brilliant. I think that may be the best gig I've ever seen. Oh yeah, Josh had opened his offerings with two tunes that another band had opened with in a historic battle of the bands. But yeah - an amazing couple of sets that really formed the highlight of the festival for me. Win win win! Afterwards, I hung around to catch Jon. He was talking to someone else, but caught my eye to say hello. At that point, Tony saw me and introduced me to Vicky, who I assume is his wife.

Jon and I finally met up, and I suggested a drink, though someone had said that they were leaving early the next morning. He jumped at it, but said that he first had to take his suit off and wring it out. We agreed to meet downstairs in the bar. I went up to drop some stuff off, and Geoff decided that he'd join me/us after all. We went down again, and Geoff wanted to check if we could use the muso's bar, as it was free, so he went up to the second floor to check it out. He came back just as Jon got out of the lift, and the hotel bar was the verdict. We found some seats, which just happened to be next to Chris Beiderbecke, who is Bix's grand-nephew, and who Jon had planned to catch up with as well. He was drinking whisky. Jon bought Geoff and me beers. (Jon and I both had something called Point Black beer - he got one and gave me a taste to see if I liked it. I did.) Geoff had a revolting Stella. We chatted happily for a while, with other people periodically coming up to Jon, including the violin/bari player from the Nighthawks, Andy Stein, and later Andy Farber, the tenor player with the dark hair, beard, and glasses. They're both nice guys, though Andy F is somewhat dry and sarcastic.

Jon talked about the gig. He'd struggled to read some of the solos because he couldn't see the music properly while standing up, and the nature of the battle meant that Vince was throwing charts at them that some of them had never seen. That's pretty scary. He said too that Vince had been pretty narky about the band being behind the beat, and so was pushing it all the time (which I had heard) and which Jon said put everyone on edge. He said even he was worried about putting a foot wrong. Strange for such a professional to say that.

I got talking to Chris, who's nice and funny and intelligent. He asked what I do, and I told him. He seemed to get the shock of his life, in a very impressed kind of way. He blurted out, 'So you're not just a common slag,' to which I took exception, though was quite pleased, really. My indignant squeaks got everyone's attention, and he apologised and proceeded to take a photo of us to capture the indignation. I moderated it slightly to be a bit more photogenic. I said I hoped he'd put it on facebook. He said he would gladly, but had been too afraid to ask. He has a wicked little laugh, more like a chortle, and he kept touching my arm - not in a creepy way.

Then he talked about a political blog he'd written years ago (he lives in Moline) that was so anti-Republican that he had threats unless he took it down. It was anonymous, and he had heaps of followers and comments, but then when someone worked out his identity, they all dropped him like a ton of bricks. He was thinking of writing a book about the experience, but hadn't got around to it. He used to play drums in a blues band. Later, he talked about Bix's brother Burnie working at the cemetery where Bix is buried, and sometimes revealing to devotees who he was. In the end, he stopped doing so because it was too painful. He also talked about some of the horrible myths and theories about Bix that people have dreamed up, which the family don't like refuting because the truth about his death is too painful. Chris joked that he should have made his fortune selling the Beiderbecke DNA, because he'd already been asked to help with Bix sculptures by having his head photographed (which he didn't much like).

Last orders were called at 11 (or was it midnight?) and Jon tried to buy Chris another whisky, getting himself another Belgian beer while he was at it (Geoff had bought him the first). As the night wore on, Jon gave me a few gulps of his beer, knowing my reputation as a hard-drinking Aussie chick. He was trying to work out the last time he was in Australia, and whether it was since he and I had met at the Gold Coast festival. I don't think we managed to work out when that was.

The bar staff asked us to move to the lounges eventually, and Jon mentioned that he was hungry. At this point, Andy Farber joined us because he didn't want to go to bed, and the conversation turned to instruments. Jon talked about buying one of Ruby Braff's trumpets, and other celebrities' horns. I found out that Martin made a whole range of brass instruments. Apparently Vince owns a Martin sax (which Andy was playing for these gigs, I think?). Andy Stein was playing Vince's phonofiddle. Vince has information sheets ready to hand out to people who are interested in his wide range of wacky instruments.

Jon and I decided to get food from Bowls on the corner at about 2.20 (as they closed at 3), and so headed outside. Unfortunately, a giant thunderstorm had descended on Davenport, and so we had to wait for the teeming rain to stop. It did before long, and we hot-footed it to the corner before it started again. The girl there recognised us both as return customers, and I recommended the nachos to Jon. He got a large one. I got sesame chicken with rice (small). It was nice.

Jon and I chatted about his glasses, about things to do in New York, about my music, and about him seeing Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick on Broadway, and Molly Ringwald in Chicago with her parents. He also talked about knowing Mel Brooks, and meeting Anne Bancroft. It was nice, good quality time. We left at 3, when they closed, and went back (everyone else had gone up) and up in the lift. I got off at 5, he gave me a hug, and we said goodbye. Wotta guy. I crept around the room and fell into bed, setting the alarm for 9 rather than 8.

Davenport: Bixfest, and Trash Can Annie's

Once again, Geoff got up just before my alarm, which was set for 8. We showered, and went out for breakfast, and were back in plenty of time for Josh's seminar about Chauncey Moorhouse at 9am. It was great - he clearly knows his stuff, and I learnt quite a lot. He showed lots of photos, and played recordings of songs, and of Chauncey speaking. There were three members of the family in the audience, who had contributed material, and there was a good handful of music historians ready to add to, or challenge, Josh's information. I really enjoyed it, and am keen to find out more and do some listening when I get home.

I got myself organised, and went out on a mission. Firstly, I walked to the end of the street to look at Bix's statue. I had to brush of some spider webs before I could take photos. It's a nice statue - placed with other Davenport locals who've contributed to the Bix 7 race. From there, I walked back down to 2nd St to find Trash Can Annie's. It's a great shop, with loads of clothes from many different eras. The woman who owns it, Laura, is very sweet (she hugged me twice), and she took my measurements so I could find what would fit. Apparently, she played Bix's girlfriend in an Italian film made about him, which Geoff has a copy of by the way. I didn't find anything I immediately had to have (though there was a beautiful sky blue Audrey Hepburn-style woven suit, and a slim heavy linen pencil dress), but Laura said she'd look into some 1920s drop-waist dresses for me (and took more detailed measurements).

From there, I walked to the only thing resembling a supermarket in Davenport, which is only two blocks away from the Blackhawk. I bought crips, chocolate, apples, Oreos, and a roll for lunch (the bananas looked awful), and then hurried back to the hotel to catch as much of Andy's band as I could. As it was, I stayed in the room longer than I intended, and didn't see much of it. There was no space in the Gold Room, and so I hovered up on the mezzanine, at the back. They were excellent, but didn't make as much of an impression on me as they had in the Putnam. Next on were the West End band, and I ventured to the front to see if there were any seats. I found out that the first three rows were set aside for patrons and sponsors. As I looked for a spare seat, Betty and Trevor called out to me. Fortuitously, there was a spare seat right next to them. I happily sat, and enjoyed the West End band. It had Andy (playing a second set back to back), John Otto, Frank Gualtieri on trombone (who was excellent), Leah Bezin on banjo/guitar, her husband on drums, and a guy on bass who I can't remember. They were sitting down, and playing from very good arrangements. I got some good photos.

Next on was Josh's band. They did an excellent job. At either this or the Col, they played Casa Loma Stomp, and it was nearly as good as Michael's band. They had a young girl playing Slipping Around on trombone, and she was excellent, and also three female vocalists, who sang together, with some comical interjections from Josh. It was a good gig.

After them was the Bix Youth Band. I fully intended to watch all of them, but I got too hungry, and so left my camera case on my seat and ran up to eat my roll. I put half of the avocado from Walmart on it. I ended up chatting to Geoff, but still managed to get half an hour of the youth band. It's effectively a big band with doubled reeds (apart from first tenor and bari). They sounded fine as a band, and there were some very good solos from a handful of them. The girl playing bari was very good. It was great to see them.

Last on was Vince's band, and it was obvious that this was what people had been waiting for. Jon gave me a wave as he was setting up. I was sitting directly in front of the reed section (in the magnitude of two or three metres away) and I was absolutely awestruck. Everything was together, and tight, and perfectly articulated, and energetic, and just amazing. Again I got some good photos. Vince was unimpressed with having nothing in the monitors. I assume it got fixed. They did a great 'Puttin' on the Ritz', and 'I'd Love It'. Can't remember any of the other tunes, but I don't remember ever being quite so excited at a gig ever. Just stunning.

There was then an hour break, and I managed to catch Jon at the bar afterwards, and said hello and got a quick hug. I told him how phenomenal the band was and he seemed slightly embarrassed. Jim came along and started fretting that no one else had turned up for a 6pm gig, and Jon drifted away to talk to other people. I went to see whether Geoff had fallen asleep or something. He hadn't. We chatted about the bands I'd seen, and he got dressed. I had a snack, and headed down to LeClaire Park.

First up was the Statesmen of Jazz, featuring Dick Hyman, who'd been recommended to me by Neil and Geoff. They were excellent. The trumpet player (Randy Sandke) is awesome, but something of a show-off; the clarinet player is very short and round, but extremely good - particularly in the very top of the range. Dick is a fairly god-like player, and their vibes player - a little man with a shock of white hair - is a brilliant powerhouse once he gets going. I think someone told me that he'd played with Benny Goodman. And Trevor Rippingale. All the greats. [Post script: His name is Peter Appleyard, and he played with Benny Goodman's sextet in the early 1970s. Sadly, he died in 2013 - he was well over 80 years old.] Very unfortunately, it started raining after about 20 minutes, and they stopped. The rain stopped, they started again, but then when the rain came back, the sound guy had to cover everything up.

They didn't start again until about quarter to, at which time the Wolverines were lining up to play. They played up to the hour, and then the Wolverines set up. Their set wasn't very strong. It started raining again, but they just moved back and kept playing. Trevor and Jim were clearly distracted and playing badly. Geoff was fine, as was the rhythm section. They packed up, and on came Jim Greer's band. I knew nothing about them at all, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they were similar in style to the Creole Bells, but with no weak links. I enjoyed their set.

Vince's band were milling around, and Vince himself was looking increasingly annoyed. Jim Greer played until quarter past, and so by the time the mammoth set up was finished, it was half past. Vince's gripe this time was about the bright stage lights pointing at them, making it impossible to see their music. At least the rain had stopped. And there were no flies.

The lights were finally fixed by the sound guy (even though it wasn't his job), which meant that any photos I took wouldn't work, but hey. Their set was good, but nowhere near as good as their first. They were just too far away, and it's difficult to amplify every nuance. A goods train came through while Vince was announcing a tune, and blasted the horn for seconds on end. The violin player managed to work out the pitches and double stop them. The horn kept interrupting Vince, and he was starting to get annoyed again. As it crawled through to nearly level, I suspect the driver saw that he'd be interrupting if he blew it again, at which point Vince bellowed at it, challenging it to blast one more time. Just one more time. It didn't. They moved on.

Notable tunes were 'Tain't So and a slow version of Happy Feet (one of three they have in the book). They played through until 11.20 and I walked back. The Battle of the Bands was raging noisily. Geoff was already in bed - he chastised me for not making myself known at LeClaire. He'd assumed I'd given up long before.. All the bands had made a point of thanking the truly committed members of the audience who'd sat through the weather. I was exhausted and fell into bed.

Lunch in Moline, Putnam Museum gig and Col Ballroom gig in Davenport

Geoff got up just before my alarm went at 8.30. He disappeared, so I had my shower and got dressed. He reappeared, and we went down to get a coffee from Urban Grind. We sat for a moment, but then walked back to the hotel because he wanted to practise. I headed to the bus station to buy myself a ticket to Chicago. Not the nicest place to hang out, but will do the job. I was back at the hotel in time for a 10.30 convoy pick-up, which was actually an 11am pick-up. I quickly went online while waiting.

The convoy arrived, and it was a bit squishy fitting everyone in. I gave up my seat in Sherry's car up for Geoff, who was running around lost looking for a seat, and then trying to squeeze into the back of Crystal's car. I intended to stay at the hotel, but Betty said I should squeeze in. We drove to Moline, to Frank's Pizza. They put on a massive buffet for us, with salad and bread and rather good pizza. A lot of gifts were exchanged - I got a John Deere pen. I decided to look around Josh and Crystal's house to get ideas for presents. The bill was again mysteriously paid.

We then drove to the Putnam Museum to see Andy Schumm's band's gig, with Andy on Bix's cornet. (Here is the video from the previous year - same personnel as far as I can tell.) They blew me away. Andy sounds so much like Bix that I could have believed he was in the room, and the whole band sounded so authentic that they could have been off a record. Vince Giordano is a fearsome musician. He has a huge sound on all three instruments, and a wicked sense of humour. Josh's drumming is tasteful, understated, and bordering on the comical, but always clever. I was sitting next to a couple from out of town who'd stumbled on the gig by seeing a programme, and asked me what 'Bix' meant. I explained it all to them, and they ended up really enjoying the gig. I was sorry to not have taken my camera, because I could have taken a close-up of Bix's cornet. Oh well.

It was only Ernie running people back to the Blackhawk and so he did two trips - I waited in the sun for the second wave. We were supposed to drop some Wolverines CDs at the Bix Society office, but there was no one there, so we dropped them at the Col Ballroom instead. Ernie then dropped me and Harry at the Blackhawk. Geoff was on a mission to get a phone card, so got a volunteer to drive him to get one. Meanwhile, I got a festival programme and planned where to go. Geoff came back and practised. I decided to take the 8.15 shuttle to the Col, and was considering going to the supermarket to get something for dinner, but Geoff was keen to get something from the place on the corner that we'd gone the first night. So we headed there about 6.10. This time, I had the beef stir-fry, and he had the nachos. It was nice - I also had strawberry lemonade, which was strange.

We went back to the room and dozed in front of the TV for a while, then got ready to be picked up by the 8.15 shuttle. We got on the audience shuttle, but there was no sign of the band. Geoff got off and found them, but came back and got on because there was only one seat in the band shuttle. I told him not to be silly and to get on it and leave me on the audience shuttle. He did. Our shuttle (which had the grand total of three people on it) got to the Col at about 8.30. I realised that I'd incredibly stupidly left my pass at the hotel, and so spoke to the volunteers about it. They didn't seem to care.

I took some photos of Josh's band, which won't be very good because it was so dark. His band sounded very good, but the acoustics meant that it sounded messy. I can't wait to hear them in the Gold Room. The Wolverines' set was a bit scrappy, by their own admission. They were too far away from each other, and so couldn't hear themselves. I was taking photos at the side right at the front, and then Agnes came up the front and told me where she and Betty were sitting. I walked up to the balcony and found them, once I'd finished taking photos, and sat to listen to the rest of the gig. It's an enormous place, and it was nearly full. There was another band set up at the side, and they actually sounded better than the bands on the main stage - the acoustics were fairly atrocious. But Bix had played there, as well as greats like Frank Sinatra and Guy Lombardo, and it has lovely draped fabrics and lamps, and a giant mirror ball. According to Geoff and Ernie, there used to be posters around the ballroom of people who'd played there, but they'd been taken down. A great shame.

There was a shuttle at 10pm, and the next one wasn't until 11pm, so I chose the 10pm, but not before saying hi to Josh and congratulating him on the band's sound. Got the shuttle back with no problems, and Geoff was back soon after. We had a bit of a post-mortem, and then had a relatively early night.

Davenport, Walmart, gig and dinner in Muscatine

I was awake just after 7, but dozed until 8. Geoff had gone out to arrange laundering; I got dressed, he came back, we went down for breakfast. The Starbucks downstairs, 'Beignet Done That', looked OK, but Jim, Trevor, and Betty were down there and said they'd been waiting for half an hour already. Geoff wanted something quick, and so we found a place called Urban Grind around the corner. The people were lovely, the service was good and quick, and the food and drink were good. I had a toasted bagel with jam, and a chai. Geoff opened a paper and found a photo of himself in there. Funny. The woman behind the counter said she liked our accents.

We headed back (the others were still in the cafe) and Geoff got a taxi to collect his cleaning. I went online, and tried to print a map. It didn't work, but there was a map at the front desk with lots of helpful stuff on it. While I was at the desk, Josh came up, and pointed out the coach station, and also said that I was unlikely to find a power adapter in downtown Davenport. There was an expedition leaving for Walmart at 10.30 and he said I was more likely to find one there. I looked more closely at the map and decided that I'd be unlikely to find a bikini in downtown Davenport anyway. I went back online to see whether Walmart was likely to have an adapter, and decided that they wouldn't. So I ordered one on Amazon to be delivered to the hotel, and joined the expedition to Walmart to get a bikini.

I met Neil's wife, Agnes, and got a seat in Sherry's car with Betty, Agnes, and Trevor. Also going were Neil, Harry, Jim, and Greg (who I didn't know) in Ernie's car (Josh's dad). Peter Locke showed up, but there was no space for him (about which I felt bad) but Sherry said she'd go back for him, and maybe Grahame too. It was an interesting drive, past mansions, highway signs, and other features of suburban American life. Walmart itself was nothing particularly offensive - much like Big W, but with a full food supermarket, and a pharmacy. I found a scraped-together version of a bikini that wasn't too awful, and bought juice, muesli bars, yoghurt, and a roll for lunch. Oh, and fruit. I had a good chat to Peter in the fruit section.

I waited outside in the not-too-hot sun for a while, and a convoy of three cars arrived to take us back. I went with Josh, Neil, and Agnes, and Josh pointed out restaurants, and the high school that Bix went to, and the place that they'll be playing on Sunday. Back at the hotel, I rested for a while.

We met again in the foyer at 2.30 (which turned into more like 3 because Peter appeared late again, not ready to go). We drove to the Wesley United Methodist Church in Muscatine (which took half an hour - I was with Geoff, Crystal, and Chauncey - Chauncey and I had some nice chats, and he told me about lots of bridges, and played samples from a classical music toy as well as playing his pink harmonica very nicely), where the band set up and had a sound check. The church was very modern, and huge, but with stunning golden stained glass windows. I took some photos.

We moved off at 4 for dinner at Salvatore's Italian restaurant. I ordered fettucine alfredo, which was delicious, and with which we got a salad and garlic bread. I had an iced tea, and was horrified when it came out with sugar sachets. Turned out that it was just cold tea - totally unsweetened. I had to put two sachets in it (a pint, that is). Josh very naughtily paid the bill - I vowed to get them a gift.

We went back to the church and into the green room, where Grahame promptly fell asleep in his chair. I had a chat to Jim. I found a seat, and the band eventually came out. It was a good gig - Geoff played a trumpet that Josh just bought, and sounded completely awesome on it. Strange that a trumpet can sound deeper, rounder, and warmer than a cornet. I Can't Get Started With You sounded particularly good. Peter played some lovely solos. I took lots of photos. They got an instant standing ovation - it was such an enthusiastic audience. We drove back to Davenport, and while Geoff made a call home I jumped on the internet downstairs. I had a shower and went to bed at 11.30. I slept well again.

NYC to Davenport

The alarm went off at 5am, and Geoff leaped up to shower and pack. I took my time, got dressed, and realised that we should have checked in for the flight yesterday, and so went downstairs to do that while Geoff got himself organised. It seemed to take ages for an E train to come along at Queens Plaza, but we managed to get to Jamaica and get an Air Train with no problems. We got off at Terminal 8 and got some croissants and tea for breakfast. There were no announcements about our flight, and so I went up to ask. As we were waiting, a sign came up to say it was delayed until 9am (from 8.15). Turned out the captain hadn't come in to work that morning, so they had to commandeer one from La Guardia.

We eventually got on, and the flight was fairly comfortable, despite being a very small plane. We sat at Washington DC for a while (I had a giant piece of chicken and broccoli pizza), and then our flight to Chicago actually boarded early. That flight was fine, although I kept nodding off. We had a short wait at O'Hare, and the flight to Moline was super quick. At Moline, we got our bags, and sat down to wait for Josh to pick us up. We ended up waiting from 3.15 until nearly 7pm. The arrangements went awry somehow. Never mind. It was cool in the airport, though the flies were awful. I ventured outside once, and it was oppressively hot.

The rescue party, consisting of Josh, his wife Crystal, their son Chauncey, and Josh's parents, arrived for the late pick-up. Josh very kindly took Geoff and me to the hotel, pointing out interesting things on the way. The hotel, and the suite, are absolutely stunning. There's a new section of the foyer, in pristine marble, but old style. The main foyer is lavish, with crystal chandeliers, fresh flowers, a piano, and the Bix Bistro. The suite has two enormous flat-screen TVs, an electronic mirror (with built-in TV) in the bathroom, a separate living area, two enormous double beds, a fridge, and incredibly well-stocked minibar.

We unpacked, and went back out for dinner in a place on the corner that Josh recommended. I had nachos and beer. The people there were really cool and nice, and they were playing 80s ad 90s music. We went back to the hotel, and although I tried to read, I was too tired, and so had a shower and went to bed at 10.30. I slept beautifully.

Rescuing photos, the Chrysler building, lots of walking, dinner, gig

I'd had my alarm set for 9.30, but dozed a bit, so we made a slow start to the day. So much so that we missed breakfast at the hotel (which ended at 10). I ate a banana. I looked up camera shops, and restaurants for that evening. We decided to both head into Manhattan to find a camera shop, and find breakfast nearby. The first camera shop was on Lexington Ave between 51st and 52nd, so we got the subway to that vicinity and went in search of food. There wasn't an enormous amount of , and we ended up at a large sandwich shop called Lenny's. I had a steak and cheese with salad on ciabatta and a cup of tea. OK, but certainly not great. The shop was full of business people who knew the system of ordering much better than we did.

We found the camera shop, and Geoff left me there to go back and practise. I asked the advice of a fairly rude man. His advice, however, was good. I'd have to reformat the card, wiping its contents in the process. This meant that I had to somehow transfer the contents, and so a very nice man on the front counter helped me use a machine to order a transfer to a DVD. It was going to take half an hour, so I headed downtown on foot to see a few things.

I accidentally came across the Chrysler building, and went into the foyer. It's really amazing art deco, with a minimalist clock, and metal decoration, and lift doors with intricate wooden inlays. I then went looking for Grand Central Station, and eventually found it. The main concourse is huge, and impressive, with huge segregated windows at either end, and a curved ceiling painted like the sky, complete with constellations. Again, it was very much in the art deco style. On the way out, I discovered  the Grand Central Market, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the Harrod's food hall. All manner of delicious looking gourmet food. I didn't stay long, for fear of being tempted to buy and eat it all.

I got back onto Lexington Ave and asked a nice garbage man where Macy's was. He said it was on 34th, so I kept walking down Lexington until I found 34th. Macy's wasn't immediately obvious from that intersection, so I chose a direction to walk in and investigate. No luck. I went into a chemist, and a nice woman confirmed that I'd chosen wrong, and that I in fact had to walk west to Broadway. I set about getting there, passing the Empire State Building on the way. Macy's is just like any other department store, just stupidly big. I totally failed to find a bikini I liked.

From there, I intended to get the subway back to the camera shop, but it would have been horribly complicated. So I walked all the way back. I got my DVD happily from the camera shop, and went into the nearby subway. On the platform that I was waiting on, a very sweaty bassoonist was (busking) playing Bach. I gave him $1 and had a quick chat to him. I headed back to the hotel for a shower, tested the DVD, and reformatted the card (IT WORKED!).

We headed out again, this time taking the N train from nearer our hotel to 8th St/NYU, with the intention of walking past Washington Square Park. Turns out it was much further off the road than the subway map suggested, so we just kept going to the restaurant, Butter, which Geoff had booked. It was an odd place - dark and cold, and shaped like a cave. One end had a big backlit image of trees on it. Our waiter was Eddie, and he was very attentive. I decided on the grilled octopus for starters (which was somewhat overpowered by other flavours), and grilled wild salmon on green beans for main (which they cooked medium rare and was absolutely stunning). I had a very pleasant glass of Spanish white to go with them. Geoff had pasta and rack of lamb with a cab sav. The service was somewhat odd, with compulsive filling of water glasses, and the need to take plates away before they were finished. The meal was still very good, though. I resisted the desire for dessert, and they brought us little wedges of salted chocolate ganache anyway. That meal was one of my treats for Geoff paying for rooms and travel.

We found Bleeker St, and walked through a lovely Bohemian area of Greenwich Village to get to Arthur's Tavern. On the way, we passed an awesome looking gelato shop, and both gave in to temptation. I had chocolate fondant and pistacchio, and Geoff had extra dark chocolate. It was amazing! At Arthur's, we had to buy a drink, so I got a white Russian. The band were already playing, and taking sit-ins - they'd started at 7 and not 8 as Geoff had thought. The venue was small, quirky, and overly decorated. It had been in operation since prohibition, apparently.

The band were OK. The clarinet player was good; the bass, piano, drums, and trombone were OK. A guy was sitting in on cornet, who was pretty awful. He was a much better singer. The stand-out was Simon Wettenhall on trumpet, who is Australian, but who has been in NYC since 1975. He's a great player, and a nice guy - he plays in Woody Allen's band. Geoff sat in for a good portion of the second set, and a drummer sitting next to us sat in too. His friend (American) was working in London as a banker.

We headed off, and I got us lost trying to find the right subway. I found us again, found the right station, and eventually the right platform. We ended up getting a Q instead of an N, as it went to the same place. Had a shower, packed, went to bed. I slept badly again.

Exploring NYC and the Ear Inn

I was awake early, so was showered before 9am. We went down to the restaurant for breakfast - I had tea and toast, and tried some grape jelly. It wasn't half bad. Once ready, we headed back to the subway station and headed to the Times Square area to see whether we could get some tickets for How to Succeed, having established that there were no legitimate ones available for the matinee (though I was dubious about trusting touts). We did no good, so walked towards the Rockefeller Centre, passing the original Copacabana Club on the way, and Radio City Music Hall. Having turned up the right street, we passed a shop where I selected an enormous diamond. Very nearby was a Godiva shop, with chocolate-dipped strawberries in the window. Geoff decided that we should get some, and we got a 'cone' of small ones (two each). They were divine!

We went into the Rockefeller tower building and got our tickets for $23 a piece. There's a fantastic Swarovski crystal chandelier hanging through a few floors. We read some interesting information about the construction and history of the whole Rockefeller complex, and then got into the lift (we also had to go through a security check). When the lift began moving, the lights dimmed and everyone looked at the ceiling. I decided it must be some trippy video and so chose not to look for fear of feeling sick. The lift took us up 46 floors very quickly. At the top, we visited various observation decks, and I took lots of photos. My memory card decided that it was full, so I swapped it for the spare 512 MB card. The view north looking towards Central Park was stunning, and the Empire State Building looked quite wonderful and imposing. It was difficult to see the Chrysler building because a hideous building was blocking it.

We went back down, and I realised that the reason for people staring rapt at the ceiling of the lift was because you could see up the shaft and get an appreciation for how fast it was moving. Very cool. From the foyer, we went to check out the area that's used for ice skating in winter. In summer, it's set up with restaurant tables.

We found the nearest subway, and took it to Central Park West, so I could see the Dakota Building and Strawberry Fields. The Dakota Building is lovely, but unmarked, and fairly non-descript. It was worth seeing, though. We crossed the road, and went into Central Park to see Strawberry Fields. Apart from a sign, and a nice mosaic on the path spelling 'Imagine', it's just part of the park. Geoff left to go back to the hotel to practise, and I sat down to plan what to do next. While I was sitting there, a tour group came up, and after their spiel started singing Imagine. Corny.

I was in dire need of food by now, and so left the park, and walked south around the outside to a tavern serving food. I got a Turkish 'taco', which was lamb, tasty, a bit like a kebab but more stewy meat, and also rather small. I sat on Sheep Meadow with hundreds of other people talking in the sun, many in beach garb, and many with frisbees or footballs.

I wandered north without much of a plan, saw some croquet and bowling greens, a music festival in the band shell (fenced off), and some roller skating. I decided to try and find the Producers fountain (Bethshaba?) so continued in what I thought was a northerly direction. I went past the entry to the zoo, and a children's area, and some baseball pitches. I saw a fountain in the distance, and made for it. Turns out it was the wrong one, and I'd managed to go in a circle and ended up in the far south-west corner. I took a path north until I was back at the tavern, checked a map, and then navigated much more carefully to find the fountain. It was very cool! 'We were fated to be mated, we're BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM!'. The rowing lake was just behind it, and apart from the expected rowing boats, there was a proper Venetian gondola, and lots of little turtles. It was incredibly hot, and I only sat long enough to plan my next move.

I decided to head east, tending north, with the aim of walking down Fifth Avenue, and taking in some shops. I found my way successfully, passing another lake with remote control yachts on it. Turns out there are no shops on that part of Fifth Avenue, but I'm pretty sure I did find the location for filming of the road crossing scene before the walking frame tap dance from Producers. I walked until 53rd Street, and caught the subway.

Back in Queens, I bought a few things from the man in the deli across the road from the hotel (bananas, and apple, some tasty looking crackers, and a muesli bar) and then went online at the hotel. Try as I might, I couldn't get the memory card on the camera to believe that it had lots of space on it. I also booked a ticket for How to Succeed, on the last Saturday in NY. Yay! I had a shower, and we headed out again for Jon's gig.

We got off at the Spring St stop, and had a short walk to the Ear Inn. We bumped into Jon at the bar straight away, and he gave me a hug and a kiss. It was so good to see him. We somehow managed to get a table, and I had a glass of prosecco. The woman who served us was Australian. I ordered a cobb salad with char-grilled chicken, tomato, avocado, lettuce, egg, bacon, and blue cheese. It was huge, and spectacularly good. A couple came in, and Jon suggested that they sit with us. The woman was an Israeli reed player called Anat, and her partner was Colin. They were good company, though Colin rather over-played Anat's talent.¹

The quartet played the first set on their own (Jon, Matt Munisteri, and two others who I didn't know), and the sound in the pub was just amazing. The pub itself had stood there since the late 18th century, and has a very interesting history (http://earinn.com/). The band started their sit-ins in the second set, starting with Anat. They played Les Yeux Noir, and made an absolutely brilliant job of it. Then a young violinist called Jonathan Russell got up and played Caravan. He's good, but a little too fond of showing off and playing endless solos.

Gradually, they added three guys from the Paris Washboard Band (clarinet, trombone, and (brilliant) washboard - played by a really comical and fun (and attractive) guy), another trumpeter called Gordon Au, Geoff, and another trombonist. By the end, they were tossing solos around between the brass players, and then between the clarinettists, and then the violin, and then a brilliant bass and washboard dialogue. The whole place was screaming! The crowd loved it, and there were musos outside who couldn't even get in. What a truly memorable and world-class experience!

After packing up, I got another hug from Jon, and he made us promise to spend some decent time with him in Davenport. He certainly doesn't need to ask me twice! Wotta guy! We got the subway back to the hotel, and didn't get to bed until 1.30. I was almost as exhausted as I'd been the night before. This time I slept well.

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¹ After seeing her play two years later at the North Sea Jazz Festival, and watching the adoration she generated, I think perhaps he wasn't. . .^↩

London to New York

Checked in at Heathrow with no problems for my Virgin Atlantic flight. The flight itself was very comfortable, and the food great. I watched an episode of Peep Show, the new Narnia (Dawn Treader) and the Adjustment Bureau. The descent into JFK was fairly unpleasant, and I felt quite ill. I had plenty of time to get over it, though, because immigration took absolutely ages. They took my fingerprints and my photo, and stamped my passport. I went through customs, dealt with a very rude man, and came out into the bright warmth of New York City.

Luckily, Geoff had read my email and was waiting for me. He had very kindly bought me a metro card, and carried my bag as we found the Airtrain, changed to a subway, and made our way to the Holiday Inn in Queens. I dumped my stuff, Geoff unpacked a little of his, and I made sure I had the right things to start sightseeing. We formulated a plan based on the list of things I wanted to do, and headed back out into the somewhat stifling heat.

We took the subway downtown and walked a little further past the WTC to Battery Park, at the southernmost tip of Manhattan. I got a large, hot pretzel from a van, a cream cheese one, which was weird because the cream cheese inside was very sweet and sickly. From there, we walked a little way around to the east to the Staten Island ferry terminal. After a long wait, we got on the rather huge ferry with hundreds of other people, and had a pleasant and refreshing journey to Staten Island. We got off and got on the next one straight back, this time on the Statue of Liberty side. I rang the hostel to cancel my night's accommodation there. We went quite close to the statue, and it's actually rather small. Dramatic, though.

At the other end, we walked up Wall Street for a way, and then to the Brooklyn Bridge. It's quite beautiful, but there were a lot of people on it. At the far end, we went in search of a subway stop and got a train to 42nd street (which got the song stuck in my head) and walked to Times Square in search of somewhere to eat. We settled on Charley O's, which is just around the corner from the Hirschfeld Theatre that How to Succeed is playing at. The box office was closed. I had a blueberry martini and a Caesar salad (spelt Caeser), which was OK, but nothing wonderfully special. We got a train back to the hotel - I was horribly tired by then, having been up for 24 hours. Bed at 12.30. I slept fairly badly.