Babies, killer eyes and rock and roll: A local musician's night with Steve Ewing

Another City of Roses has come and gone.

It is always bittersweet. To the unjaded eye COR is a great way to get a lot of local bands to play in venues that normally don't host live music.

After spending 5 years in the retail music business it was a lot of work for me. I also played in more than one band each year. So commonly I would play four or five sets a night then end up helping with equipment issues in my "spare time."

This year I was in one band. I was happy. Moreover this left me time to go catch a show instead of run from place to place. The show for me was the Steve Ewing, Zach Hexum, Lojic show at Breakaways.

Growing up close to St. Louis (hey Ste. Genevieve is closer than Cape), I came up going to Urge shows. It's not too hard to hear their influence on the bands I was in back in the day. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones and the Urge were pretty much a starting template for Kernal Mustard and Cataphasia.

For those who don't know, Steve Ewing was the frontman for the now defunct Urge. Steve puts on an amazing show and I didn't want to miss this one. I had a baby-sitter and I was gonna have some fun. I got done with my show and packed up my stuff and took off for Breakaways.

I know Steve from my days in the Tone Def All Stars. Steve started bringing his band to Cape to split shows with the All Stars. We strolled up to the club and Steve was standing out front and came right up to my wife, Robin and I and gave us a big hug. It was good to see him again.

We caught up on things and listened to Zach's set, which was really cool. Lojic brought their A-game as usual. I noticed Steve's bassist Ted wasn't there. He couldn't make the date. I was curious to hear the stand in. He (I didn't get his name) did OK but it wasn't Ted. The show was relatively short and so we got to hang out with Steve, Jon (guitar) and Jeremy (drums) for a bit before calling it a night.

After talking about the show for a bit Steve said he wished he would've asked me to play the show. I was flattered by the compliment but I am a skeptic and ruled it out as a sort of hindsight compliment. Then he asked me what I was doing the next night.

"I have a 9 o'clock show at the Rude Dog but after that, nothing."

He told me that he had a show in Carbondale and wanted to know if I could be there before midnight, when he went on. I definitely had too much to drink and I didn't catch what he was trying to say. I mean I would love to go see him play again but I didn't really want to pay a baby-sitter for that long.

Then I wrapped my brain around the initial question. I replied with, "you mean you want me to play with you tomorrow night?"

The "Uh-huh" that he retorted slapped some sobriety into my head. The part of my brain that plays bass had to get up and take some notes. He showed me the set list, sang me a couple passages and asked if I could learn all of this by tomorrow.

Somehow the other parts of my brain were assembled rank and file for duty. I said, "no worries" with relative confidence. I got his cell phone number and told him I'd call in the morning and we'd get together to run through the material.

I headed home and babbled the whole way to my wife since the temporary organization of my brain had gone back to giddy and soused. I thought "no problem I'll get up early (yeah right) and listen to the songs before work, memorize the changes and be ready to hook up with him at one o'clock." With that in mind I shut down for the night.

There was this horrible but familiar beeping. The alarm clock … set one painful hour earlier than normal.

Time for the usual systems check. Immediately there was a problem. My left eye wouldn't open. It was excruciating. I have been complaining for days that my eye was bothering me but today was the kicker.

I am a baby when I am hurt. I tried to trudge on, eight gallons of Visine wasn't helping. I tried to open the eye but it was just hurting and weeping like a deflowered prom date.

I drove myself to the emergency room. That's right I drove. For those who don't know me, I abhor cars, I don't like to drive. I tried to ride my bike, but I couldn't see. There I am in the ER purgatory when it hits me that at some point last night something really cool came about and I was involved.

Luckily I had the play-by-play rolling in one of the sections of my Stag-encrusted brain. Yep, indeed I was supposed to play bass for Steve Ewing tonight. Insert you favorite expletive here … I said, several of them.

I called Steve's cell number. No dice, the mailbox is full. I figure I will get the eye fixed somehow. Learn the songs, take a quick lunch break, hook up with Steve and finish the workday.

I'll play my show in Cape and drive to Carbondale directly. In my trusty bag were a CD player and some Steve Ewing CDs; apparently drunk me was looking out for sober-the-next-day me. I popped in a disc and started listening.

Then the skeptic in me put in its 2 cents. Maybe Steve wasn't serious, and his cell phone was off. Maybe I was too drunk and overbearing and imagined the whole thing.

Here comes the doctor. He pulls the eye open and puts copious amounts of drops, dyes and ointments in my eye. He flipped my eyelid inside out to check it out. Thanks to anesthetic eye drops it wasn't that bad.

I had scratched my cornea. I got an eye patch and waited to get my ride home (I couldn't drive now, so Robin and Zoe walked down to get me).

Then my phone rings. It's Steve. Which was odd, as I didn't give him my cell number.

I answered. Steve asked if I had forgotten to call. He was at the bike shop I work for. Luckily someone there gave him my cell number. I gave him the run down.

I was temporarily blind in one eye. Keeping the other one open was a chore. I hadn't touched my bass yet and the show was tonight.

Side note: Steve Ewing is one of the nicest and most understanding guys in the music business. He was concerned about my health more than anything and asked if I could still do the show.

I told him it would take more than temporary blindness to derail this train. He was cool with that. I would meet him to run over the tunes after I got out of the hospital. Back to listening to the CDs.

My wife and daughter show up to take me home. My daughter thinks I am a pirate.

Back to the task at hand, I played through the tunes and would tell Robin what note I thought I was playing and she would write it down for me.

As soon as we made it through all the tunes we headed to the hotel. I'm sure the guys in Steve's band were skeptical at the sight they saw. My wife carrying my amp and leading my daughter loaded with coloring books and pulling my blind self with my bass on my back. It was a sight to see, as the guys were piling out of the hotel Steve and I sat in the lobby and hammered out songs while Robin took notes for me.

Zoe colored and entertained all the other guys from the band. Steve was confident I could do the job, so we had some lunch and they departed for Carbondale.

I went home and anxiously awaited the baby-sitter. Wes (sax player in the Mike Renick band) and his wife picked my blind self up and took me to my show. I played the Rude Dog with sunglasses on and my eyes closed. I took some pain meds so I could open my eyes for a few moments but the smoky environment of the Dog kept em closed for most of the show.

It is a whole new ball game playing with your eyes closed. Mission accomplished, though. With movie-like timing within moments of packing my gear Robin was out front with the car and away we went.

As we rolled into Carbondale it started to sink in. I was confronted with two distinct sensations. Nervous excitement was certainly gripping me like a scared kid in a cold swimming pool.

There was an underlying sensation of cool professionalism. Show up, do the job, play it cool, say thanks -- a mantra that any prostitute could live by. My career has been littered with this exact type of performance. Learn the songs today, play a show tonight.

The crowning jewel is the man I am playing for is one of my favorites. Robin, our friend Lydia and I roll up to the Copper Dragon and head into the dressing room to catch the last of Zach's set.

I put down my stuff, made some small talk, then went through the songs with Steve, Jon and Jeremy. I was starting to feel pretty confident. The show wasn't as packed as I would've hoped, but oh well.

I had a couple of beers to settle the nerves a bit and away we go. I haven't been playing rock for a while. I mean real rock and roll, I just haven't done it.

When we got on stage there was that underlying nervousness but it wasn't just me. Rightly so, since we have never actually played together. The first song, "Optimism is a Luxury," clicks off and starts with a guitar intro, when the whole band came in it hit like a bomb.

It was nice to be back to rock. After that song Jeremy (the drummer) said, "you're gonna make my job real easy".

My eye was killing me and I had to wear sunglasses the entire time, but I didn't care.

It's hard to say how I felt during the show. It was going by too fast. It was easier than expected to remember the songs. It felt great to be back in the saddle of that style of music.

What I play now doesn't afford me the venue to go a little nuts on stage. Nine songs later and my night was done. We even threw in a song that wasn't on the set list.

I packed up my stuff and hung out with the band for a bit. I brought some folks back to the dressing room to meet the guys but ultimately we had to go.

The days of partying all night are gone. We had a baby-sitter to pay. But it was good to be back if only for an hour or so.