Taylor Hicks ~~ Chukchansi's Gold

By Guest Blogger, PayTheDevil

I live in the Great Central Valley of California. If you have eaten a carrot, pistachio, or listened to the band Korn in the last couple of months, then you have enjoyed the bounty that comes from our community’s basket. The good news is that I live about 90 minutes from Los Angeles, the Pacific Ocean, and the Sequoia’s. The bad news is that we have the worst air quality in the country and few non-country bands stop by our little burg.

During the third week of August, the stars aligned and somehow Taylor Hicks triangulated himself to three shows within driving distance of my casa. Yup, with gas only costing $2.89 a gallon this was shaping up to be an affordable stalking binge opportunity.

The media makes a lot out of the term “stalker”. Like the local news at 5 o’clock that reports (along with a raising musical soundtrack and fancy black & red graphics) a few drops of rain and a little wind as “STORM WATCH 2010”, reasonable stalking has, in my humble obsessive opinion, been over stated. I suspect there is a very thin line between “super fan” and “nut job”. A super fan wants to see the inside of the bus. A nut job wants to sniff the bunks on the bus. For all of you sniffers out there, I sympathize with you, but girlfriend… you gotta step away. You are giving the rest of us a bad name. I suppose on any given day with the right amount of alcohol or Xanex anyone of us could go in search of olfactory delights.

Traveling a couple of hours to see Taylor three times in six days, qualifies as stalking to my uninitiated family. Of course, they don’t snicker when we all travel (on my dime) to Washington, DC, New York, or Canada to see Mr. Hicks. The parents… you gotta love em’. They just want what’s best for me. I suspect they have heard from their grumbling grandchildren that favorite auntie is squandering their perceived meager inheritance on concert tickets and hotel stays. Not that I’ve spent that much, but if found dead tomorrow, a quick review of my VISA statement would lead investigators to believe that I support a ne’er-do-well boyfriend named Orbitz and do my grocery shopping at the Hudson’s Newsstand in the Atlanta airport. All that said, do you really think that I would give up a chance to see Taylor 3x in 6 days?

Not bloody likely.

My own childless Aunt squanders my meager inheritance in casinos. The downside to her gambling is that her clothes always smell like smoke after her sojourns to Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Coarsegold. The upside is that she has a personal ingratiating slot host at every casino west of Denver. I’ve often traveled with her to the Chukchansi Gold Casino in Coarsegold, California. Her rooms are always free and she receives free coupons for a couple of turns around the buffet line. The Chukchansi Gold Casino is a beautiful casino managed by a Native American tribe. The casino and its attached hotel have a lodge-like décor. Big overstuffed chairs, lots of natural wood, and tasteful art remind you more of the lobby at the nearby Teneya Lodge over in Yosemite National Park than most Native American casinos. During my past visits to the facility, I have explored the Yosemite Valley with my camera, while the dollar slots are typically eating up my auntie’s bankroll. I don’t spend much money in casinos. My speculated-about, but very expensive boyfriend Orbitz - typically consumes my discretionary income. So, when I heard that Taylor was coming to Coarsegold, I was kicking myself for not making a Chukchansi Gold Slot Hostess my BFF. The casino’s hotel rooms retail for $180 a night and with the added baggage of five family members traveling with me (Oops, did I say that? I meant to say with the addition of five family members AND their respective baggage) I would need to reserve at least three hotel rooms and purchase six tickets to the concert.

Worth E V E R Y penny.

The concert was held in a cavernous tent like structure built on the back of the casino. It could easily have held 1,300 people and for Taylor’s show it appeared that each seat was filled. I was lucky enough to score good seats via TicketBastard, I mean TicketMaster. The family was excited to sit only 5 rows back from the stage, on the aisle. I felt I had been banished to Outer Mongolia. Stalkers, I mean “Super Fans” like to sit up close. It was then that I noticed that the venue was packed. From my fifth row seat every chair in front of me and behind us was filled. I had just seen Taylor in San Luis two days before at an intimate club. To see and hear the crowd that had come to tonight’s concert was a bit overwhelming. It reminded me of the crowds at the Biloxi Convention Center or at the Tabernacle in Atlanta a few years ago. To record the moment, ten minutes before the show started, I walked to the northwest corner of the concert hall and took the picture below. It only shows half the room, but you get the idea. The folks sitting on the sides of the hall (I presume many of these people did have a Slot Hostess as a BFF) probably had to rely on one of the two large video screens to clearly see the action on the stage.

Action.

The guys rolled out to polite applause. Folks from the Central Valley work hard for their money and expect you to do the same if you want their dollar. Timid at first, the gender and age-balanced crowd warmed to Taylor and the band as the night progressed. The thoughtful “Maybe You Should” brought the crowd to their feet. The hearty applause after “19” left none to wonder if the y-chromosomes in the audience appreciated Mr. Hicks’ efforts. There was the requisite crazy girl dancing near the front of the stage and a couple of older ladies that whispered, “When is he going to do that “Do I Make You Proud” song?” Otherwise, like the hundreds of people sitting in the crowd, I was enthralled by Taylor’s and the band’s performance. Friends from this blog had charged me with the task of writing down the set list. I failed miserably. I quickly scampered up to the stage after the show and asked Clay Connor for a copy of the set list. There were none. YIKES. In my defense, I was so taken in by the performance I couldn’t remember the order of the songs. I do specifically remember the songs in the encore, because there were two – The Faces’ “Stay with Me” and La Roux’s “Bulletproof”. There was something about Taylor’s “Stay with Me” performance that was oddly familiar. I remembered seeing an old Faces video of Rod Stewart strutting around the stage with the mic stand.



and I compared it to my video of Taylor singing the same song.

Ding, Ding, Ding, I think someone has been brushing up on his mic stand work.

At the end of the amazing show, Taylor took to the merch table to sell a few CDs and T-shirts. I think it is wonderful that he connects with his audience in this way. Those standing in line at Coarsegold for an autographed CD or maybe a photo were a little different than the crowds that I had seen in Laughlin and in San Luis Obispo. They were as enthusiastic as the other crowds, but there were just so many of them. Standing in the back of the line with the other “Super Fans” I easily counted more than 200 people waiting to get a chance to meet Taylor. After waiting in line 20 minutes I took the picture below. It shows another 100 to 120 people that were STILL in front of me before I got my turn at the merch table. Another 30 or so folks (They must be the “Super Duper Fans”) were standing behind me in line. I was so happy for Taylor. I guess it’s the stalker thing. You begin to feel personally connected to an artist. I had such glee in my heart that the crowds were large and responsive to his efforts. Every time the credit card machine was swiped for another CD sale it was a confirmation that they liked him, they really, really liked him. My feelings aren’t totally altruistic. I know if Taylor makes a boatload of cash in the Central Valley, he’ll come back. Every sale of a soda can cozy was music to my ears.

Final Thoughts.

The family had a good time at the concert. They applauded appropriately and stood during the ovations. We are sort of non-demonstrative kind of folks. It’s a Teutonic thing. It’s hard to get worked up when you are pillaging small European villages. That said, my Father asked me for the lyrics to “19” during our post-concert dinner. I spoke them with an increasingly unsteady voice, the table became quiet and my Dad’s eyes welled up in tears. We all buried our heads down into our menus, uncomfortable and deeply moved with my Dad’s rare display of tears.

That’s the power the music. It makes us all stalkers of the heart.

~~~

Our thanks to PayTheDevil for her incredible recaps and media from San Luis Obispo and Coarsegold. This stalker..uh, I mean Super Fan, has a way with words and media.

You rock, Girl!

More of PayTheDevil's media is in our Coarsegold thread and on our media board:

http://s1.zetaboards.com/connections/topic/3586400/2/