Monday, June 18, 2007
Look Out Below!
In William Shakespeare's play "As You Like It," one of the bard's better known soliloquies starts with the phrase "All the world's a stage..." If that's true, I had a bit of an international embarrassment over the weekend.
It happened at the Rhythm and Ribs festival in Kansas City on Saturday. Let me say that 99% of my time at the event was simply wonderful. This was the third year for the festival in the 18th and Vine district, and if you haven't made it out there yet, mark your calendar for next June. The food is fantastic and the music is even better. There's nothing like some cool jazz on a hot day. I hope Rhythm and Ribs becomes a long-lasting KC tradition.
Well, I certainly did my part to make this year's festival memorable. I had the honor of introducing the Javon Jackson Band on Saturday afternoon. But as I started to welcome the crowd, I fell off the stage. I'm not kidding. I actually stepped off the stage, but that doesn't make it any better. One moment I was speaking on stage and the next, I was standing on the ground, five feet below, out of sight for the hundreds in attendance.
I can only imagine what it must have looked like. Now for my excuse: There was a "skirt" hanging on the front of the stage. It makes the stage look nice, hiding the underbelly. However, the wind on Saturday was lifting up that skirt, which was the same color as the stage itself. I thought it was an extension of the stage, but quickly found out otherwise when I stepped on it and realized there was nothing but air underneath it. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt (except for my pride.) Amazingly, I landed on my feet. I didn't try to crawl back up on the stage at that point. Instead, I talked to the audience and introduced the act from the security fence in front of the stage.
The crowd was very nice about the whole thing. They cheered when I jumped up after my fall. They also cheered when I asked if they wanted to see me perform another act of amazing agility. They got a good laugh, but they were kind about it.
You know, jazz artists are among the coolest people you'll ever meet. They're often suave and debonair. Obviously, that's one of the many reasons I'm not a jazz musician. After this weekend, no one will ever accuse me of being suave ever again.
It happened at the Rhythm and Ribs festival in Kansas City on Saturday. Let me say that 99% of my time at the event was simply wonderful. This was the third year for the festival in the 18th and Vine district, and if you haven't made it out there yet, mark your calendar for next June. The food is fantastic and the music is even better. There's nothing like some cool jazz on a hot day. I hope Rhythm and Ribs becomes a long-lasting KC tradition.
Well, I certainly did my part to make this year's festival memorable. I had the honor of introducing the Javon Jackson Band on Saturday afternoon. But as I started to welcome the crowd, I fell off the stage. I'm not kidding. I actually stepped off the stage, but that doesn't make it any better. One moment I was speaking on stage and the next, I was standing on the ground, five feet below, out of sight for the hundreds in attendance.
I can only imagine what it must have looked like. Now for my excuse: There was a "skirt" hanging on the front of the stage. It makes the stage look nice, hiding the underbelly. However, the wind on Saturday was lifting up that skirt, which was the same color as the stage itself. I thought it was an extension of the stage, but quickly found out otherwise when I stepped on it and realized there was nothing but air underneath it. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt (except for my pride.) Amazingly, I landed on my feet. I didn't try to crawl back up on the stage at that point. Instead, I talked to the audience and introduced the act from the security fence in front of the stage.
The crowd was very nice about the whole thing. They cheered when I jumped up after my fall. They also cheered when I asked if they wanted to see me perform another act of amazing agility. They got a good laugh, but they were kind about it.
You know, jazz artists are among the coolest people you'll ever meet. They're often suave and debonair. Obviously, that's one of the many reasons I'm not a jazz musician. After this weekend, no one will ever accuse me of being suave ever again.
Posted at 6:32 AM
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