Multi-Artist Show Cancellations Examined

Charlie Imes @ The Piping Parrot

     Lately, there has been a lot of chatter on social media about gigs going away, and events suddenly being canceled.          One band recently traveled to Florida from their more northerly homes, to play a famous central Florida venue. Then, at almost the last minute it fell through.  Another pair of nationally known Trop acts had been touting their appearances at a festival held by one of the eastern PHCs. A couple of weeks before the show, the event was canceled.
     These occurrences made me consider where all of this may be going.  Is there an underlying something that we're failing to see?
     As "music worlds" go, the Trop Rock world is comparatively small.  There are a few hundred bands, duos, and solo acts on the circuit, trying to scratch out some kind of living playing our favorite music.  How small is this niche?  Take your own survey.  Ask a number of your friends that are not on your facebook page or in your PHC, etc., what Trop Rock music is.  The simple truth is, they're probably not going to know.  The reaction will range from a cocked eyebrow to a loud, "what the hell you talkin' about, Bubba"?
     My point is, in a group this small, there are a finite number of fans and paying customers, to consume the product.
     From my view, here in upstate New York, Florida seems jam-packed with beach cowboy, and tropical dreaming bands.  On the "Shore Life Radio", the Internet station I work with, we have an enormous library of artists and acts from which to make our programming choices. The supply of Trop Rock music seems never ending.
     But, I want to point out something that may be worth considering.
I live in a region where the "greater area" has around a quarter of a million people.  From that figure, a hardcore Parrot Head, or Trop fan, may form the opinion that there would be enough Trop music fans at any given time, to fill a number of venues with paying customers. This is not the sunny South, and Trop fans are few and far between here.
     In reality, there's not all that many Trop fans in this region, and getting enough of them together to make a decent crowd is not easy.  We've found that to bring the music we love here, we have to add some variety to the schedule.  For example, there are many, and I mean many, more times the number of Rock fans and Country fans, than there are Trop Rock fans in this region. If you want to see a Trop Rocker, sometimes we add a Pop or Country band to the line-up. It bolsters the attendance and helps raise enough money to pay the Trop act.
     Here comes my point.  Our fan base is quite specialized and relatively small, so we don't get the larger Trop shows here. Therefore, when I see shows with big name headliners like The CalypsoNuts, and James "Sunny Jim" White canceled, I have to wonder why.
     Many of my readers will know I'm talking about the three-day Phunfest in Ocean City, MD, that was to be held the 26th through the 28th of September.   Their Website said it was "postponed".  No alternate date was listed. It never happened. Ticket sales in numbers to support the event were just not there.
     My opinion is that there is beginning to be an overload of expensive 2 and 3 days long Trop extravaganzas.  People have to budget for the ones they can attend, and naturally, some of the best events are the most expensive.
      I believe there is another factor that merits consideration. In a way, it's a "Catch 22" of current trends in live entertainment. House Concerts.
     House Concerts are all the rage. All across the country, people are turning their living rooms, decks, patios, garages, and pool areas into live music venues. They've become a major provider of "in person" entertainment for Trop fans. Both coasts, middle America, and wherever fans can be gathered, Trop acts are being called upon to bring their instruments, mics, speakers, and sometimes even lighting, to houses in the country, suburbia, and cities, to set up and play a couple of sets at bargain prices.
     I say bargain prices because it's a huge bargain for the fans. For ten to twenty dollars, in most cases, fans get to not only hear their favorite artists live, they get to chat, eat, and hang out with them. Part of the deal is that the House Concert host frequently affords the artist lodging for the night, often under their own roof.
     Consider that. No traveling a hundred or more miles, no meals on the road, or overnight motel bills for the fans lucky enough to live near a House Concert venue. Actually, any fan can even set up and hold their own HC.
     You can see why this might cut into the business for the major multi-day concert events. Sure, they're always thrown in the name of several charities, but that's not why people go. They go to see their favorite artist or artists perform and be in contact with them. If they can see them at home for fifteen dollars, why go for an overnight trip to see them?
     I remain willing and eager to go to at least one large event a year.  Plus, I have opened up my house for the last three years, for House Concerts. The Piping Parrot may be only a deck attached to the back of my modest home, but one or two times a year, Trop fans can come and enjoy an artist they'd normally have to travel out of state to catch live. They get a great show that costs less than a trip to their local movie theater and sleep in their own bed.
      I don't know if I've answered the question, "why are so many large concert events losing popularity or failing?" but I hope I've given you something to think about.

A Pyratical Life

A Pyratical Sea

The sea shines red in the mornin' sun
Rise up buccaneers, thar’s work t' be done. 
Hoist every sail and set a course true
Out on the trades, thar’s riches fer you.
After the pillagin’ we’ll fly in the winds
To Pyrates Cove whar the party begins.
Thar be wenches, rum, and a sea farin’ song
Divvyin’ up booty, arrrr plan all along.
We’re partyin’ pyrates ‘til we’re put under
A great grand life for a bit o' the plunder. 

Don "D'Pyrate" Winfield

"MEET ME IN MIKERITAVILLE-IV"

      

 What's going on here?

     This is the fourth consecutive year that a small group of friends in the Binghamton area have

initiated and managed the "Meet Me In Mikeritaville" event. This is the third time "MMIM" will be presented at Casey's Restaurant & Bar, 1123 Front St., in Binghamton, NY. 

 Why is this happening?

     Each year "MMIM" strives to raise awareness for a worthwhile charity that may be overlooked by other events and fund raising efforts in the area. "MMIM" has raised awareness and funds for IAVA (Iraq & Afghanistan Veterans of America), The Broome County Humane Society, Wounded Warrior Project, and others. This year, the event is presented on behalf of S.T.A.R. (Southern Tier Animal Rescue Network). 

 What does S.T.A.R. do?

     S.T.A.R. doesn't have a high profile in the Triple Cities/Broome County area, but it is a valuable resource in the effort to control the feral cat population of the area surrounding the confluence of the Susquehanna and Chenango rivers. S/T.A.R. is an all volunteer group of caring people who spend much of their free time catching feral cats, having them neutered by local Veterinarians, and returning them to their familiar locations

 How does that help?

     By neutering feral cats, it greatly reduces the population through a humane and natural process. By limiting the cats' ability to procreate in the wild, the population is reduced in a gradual and humane manner. The fewer feral cats, the less of a problem they are to homeowners and other animals existing in their natural habitats.

                                                                     How does "MMIM-IV" work?

      "Meet Me In Mikeritaville-IV" is a musical event. This year, there will be two musical acts performing for attendees.  Both of the acts are family friendly, and play a type of music enjoyed by the young, the older, and everyone in between. There will be raffle basket tickets being sold and a Chinese Auction of the baskets will be on-going all evening. There is a 50 inch, flat-screen, "smart TV" being raffled, as well as multiple 50/50 Raffles, throughout the event. Delicious food and a wide array of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages are being sold by Casey's. There is something for everyone.

    What kind of music is at "MMIM-IV"?

     The music being performed at "MMIM-IV" is a style known as Trop Rock. Think of it as beach music, island vacation music, or even coastal country. To give a clearer idea of what the music is like, think Jimmy Buffett, Zac Brown, Kenny Chesney, and the like. In fact, both "MMIM-IV" acts will be playing familiar songs from each of those artists, as well as their own original music.

    Where does the name "Meet Me In Mikeritaville" come from?

      Excellent question! There's the possibility of a long answer to that, but to respect the reader's time and for convenience sake, here's the short one:  The event started out as a tongue-in-cheek celebration paralleling an event in Fruita, CO, named "Mike The Headless Chicken Day".  June 3rd and 4th 2016, mark the 18th annual MTHCD in Fruita.  Since the group of folks who present MMIM" in Binghamton are Trop Rock music lovers, they named the event in honor of Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville. Ergo "Mikeritaville", touching on both Miracle Mike the inspirational chicken, and their favorite kind of music. 

All you really need to know.

     On May 21st, at the cozy, family-friendly restaurant called Casey's, there will be a lot of great LIVE music, a group of like-minded people gathered to support a worthy cause, and the opportunity to win prizes from a plethora of raffle baskets, a TV, and cash from "full pay out" 50/50s. THERE ARE FOOD AND DRINK SPECIALS all evening, so you can come and dine on excellent food at reasonable prices.

One last note.

     There is no admission charge, no minimum purchases, and no pressure to participate in the raffles. Just come out and enjoy the music, sing & dance along, and chat with your friends. You'll want to bring all of your friends to share this wonderful time.  We want to see full seats, and your smiling faces.  Come on!  "Meet Me In Mikeritaville"!

For more information or become a volunteer.

"MMIM-IV" on Facebook  

Call for info: Don or Meg: 607-648-6273

The Game

      The Connecticut Committee met every Thursday evening. One particular evening in late October, they decided that immediate action was necessary half-way around the world. Committee member Barbara O'Reilly left the meeting and caught the next available plane from New York's Kennedy International Airport. Her destination was Australia.

      One week later, after five days in Sydney, she was lunching al fresco at the Bondi Trattoria Café on Campbell Parade.

      People moved along the sidewalk either toward Bondi Beach, or the opposite direction toward downtown Sydney. Few took notice of the pretty, tall, well dressed brunette having a seafood salad in the open air. Barbara eyed each pedestrian carefully, her sapphire eyes noting every detail. Blending well into the busy scene, she was just another thirty something business woman having a leisurely lunch.

      When the waiter returned with Barb's check, she carefully laid out the exact amount of the meal. Tipping is considered rude in Australia, and she didn't wish to stand out. She soon spotted what she was waiting for. The swarthy waiter standing by the cafe's side door nodded almost imperceptibly to an elderly woman that was shuffling along the opposite side of Campbell Parade. With no change in his facial expression he dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, and slipped inside the cafe.

      Barbara took one last swallow of Perrier and stood. She slowly arranged some items in her purse, smoothed her skirt, pushed her chair in, and stepped into the light flow of pedestrian traffic. She and the ancient woman were both heading downtown.

      Barb strode briskly along the street, keeping the old lady in sight. The crone seemed unaware of being followed, but Barb knew better. Ten blocks and five direction changes later, Barb was standing in a dark alley, her back against the rear door of a closed haberdashery.

      After moving ahead of her subject, she'd stopped at a public toilet and disposed of the chestnut wig and dark business suit she'd been wearing. Now, she was a tall, striking redhead, wearing a white turtleneck, yellow vest, and designer blue jeans. She held a small silver colored revolver in her right hand.

      Barbara's target entered the alley from the street. Her suddenly youthful step belied her age, and her pace quickly carried her to within a few feet of the waiting redhead. Suddenly the door of the abandoned men's store burst open. Barb was slammed into the wall on the opposite side of the narrow alley. As she crashed into the wall she recognized her attacker. It was the waiter who'd served her lunch. 

     Barbara reflexively raised the Colt and fired. The knife in the menacing waiter's hand froze in mid-air. The stiletto's razor-sharp blade had missed Barb's throat by less than an inch.

      A small dark hole appeared between the waiter's eyes. The wound looked like a tiny third eye, as the man crumbled and fell to the damp bricks. Barb quickly retrieved the dagger with a gloved left hand.

      The young man disguised as an old woman, had by then come face to face with Barbara and the waiter. He had no time to retreat. The long thin blade slipped silently between his ribs and through his heart. His last few seconds were wasted trying to understand his fate. "Allah Akbar," he whispered, and his eyes lost their light.

      The untraceable Colt was placed in his lifeless hand. The knife remained in his chest. His plot would be exposed by Sydney police, and his homemade bombs would be found and destroyed during the investigation. The Holy War had come to an end for the young Jihadist named Amin.

      Tropical music from her iPad filled Barb's ears as the Boeing 767 lifted into the warm Sydney night.

      Next week, she thought as she closed her eyes. Next week, perhaps there will be another game.

The Game

By Don Winfield