< Back On the Road with Poco
October 12, 2005
'Pickin' Up The Pieces' for My 50th Birthday:
On the Road with Poco
By Mark T. Gould
It was the night before my 50th birthday, and I was in the backstage trailer at the Topsfield, Massachusetts Fair. There was a lighted birthday cake for me on the table. Around me were some good friends, Jon, Georgina and Alison Rosenbaum and Marc Smith.
But, the real mind blower was that standing around the cake, singing Happy Birthday to me were Rusty Young, Paul Cotton, Jack Sundrud and George Lawrence.
Poco. My favorite band for all of their 37 years, singing a private Happy 50th Birthday to me.
And, therein, lies a wondrous tale.
About a year ago, I had that startling revelation that my next birthday would be The Big One. The 5-0. Yes, the 'Get Ready for the Senior Tour and AARP Membership' 50th. And, my wife, bless her, wanted to do something very special for me.
'Why don't you go on the road with Poco,' she said. 'You know that's really what you want to do.'
Well, she had a point.
My friends and family have long known of my singular musical devotion to this incredible band. They've been together for 37 years, and I've been a fan for just about every one of them. Over the years, I've gotten to know the band members and their management (a well deserved shout-out here for Rick Alter, who has, along with the continuing vision of Rusty Young and Paul Cotton, brought this band back to where it should be), and it has been one of the thrills of my life to be their fan.
So, it was settled. But, I had no idea just how lucky I could be until I found out that they were scheduled to play four shows over two days, including October 5, my birthday, at the Topsfield Fair, the country's oldest agricultural fair, just outside Boston, and more importantly for our collective pocketbook, only about a four-hour drive from my home in Connecticut.
So, with my wonderful wife's blessing, I contacted Rick, and volunteered to chauffeur the band around for the time they would be in the area. What transpired will give fans an idea of what goes on behind the scenes when a band is on tour, and what Poco goes through, sometimes, to get to that point where they come out on stage, always appearing happy, relaxed, and ready to blow us all away with their great music and friendliness.
Believe me, having seen it now first hand, it ain't as easy as it looks.
Rick e-mailed the Topsfield itinerary to me in mid-September. It contained all of their flight plans, show details, ground contacts, hotel reservations and the like, for about one week on the road. The plan was that the band, after shows in Largo, Florida and near Charlotte, North Carolina the previous weekend, would fly to Providence, where I would pick them up on Sunday evening, October 2. I would then drive them to the hotel just outside Topsfield, and serve as their driver and 'go-fer' for the four days they would be there.
Unfortunately, there was mechanical trouble with the plane leaving Charlotte. Rusty called me via cell phone at home, just before I was planning to leave for Providence, to fill me in on the status. Three phone calls later, the plane was repaired and they were in the air to Chicago, where, due to the delay, they might miss their connection to Providence. But, I had to hightail it to Warwick Airport, just in case they got in on time. Can't keep the best band in the world waiting, you know.
Rusty called me back again as the Charlotte plane was taxiing to the gate at O'Hare, and as I was just arriving at Warwick. The bad news: they did miss the connection. The good news: they were getting another flight that would delay their landing in Providence by only about four hours.
So far, so reasonably good. I'd only be at the airport, waiting, for a few hours. No biggie. I got a glass of wine and got down to some serious people watching from the big windows that look out onto the airport concourse and the runways from the local watering hole.
After about an hour, with no calls from Rusty in Chicago, I figured all was well. Despite that, I walked back into the main terminal and took a quick look at the arrivals listing.
The Chicago flight, for some reason, was no longer on the main terminal board.
Quickly, I rushed over to the American Airlines counter. The flight was on there, and it still said arrival was around 9:20 p.m. Satisfied, I went back to my wine and people watching.
A while later, I got up again, and went out to look at the AA board. Now, it said the arrival time was 11:11 p.m. OK, still no problem. What are a few extra hours after 37 years of great music, right?
So, I went back to my pursuits. About an hour later, as it was getting close to 10 p.m., I went back to check on the flight. The arrival time had been changed again. Now, it said 12:42 a.m. As in: early Monday morning.
It was getting a little spooky in the airport. Sunday night is not a real popular time there. There were no more arrivals, except for the Poco flight from Chicago, and only a handful of departures. So, people watching was, for me, getting to be a very limited way to pass the time. And, whether they arrived or not, I still had to drive everyone about 90 minutes north to Topsfield for the night. Regretfully, then, I turned in my empty wine glass.
Thankfully, within a few minutes, Rusty called again. The AA postings had all been terribly wrong. The guys were still sitting in the Chicago airport, and they weren't really being told much of anything, although their departure gate had been changed, twice. Rusty seemed to be taking it pretty well, laughing at one point, and joking to me 'what are you doing in February, when we get finally there?'
An aside here. All of us who are longtime Poco fans know what an incredible musician, songwriter and leader Rusty Young has been for this band for so many years. As Paul once told me,' if there's no Rusty, there's no Poco.' But, what fans don't see is the incredible amount of work he puts in as de facto road manager, on top of his presence and playing at shows and at 'meet and greets' after them. He was coordinating all of the travel, clearly, from Charlotte to Chicago to Providence, checking with the airlines, Rick and me, keeping us all informed. He also was managing all of the ground transportation, hotel bookings, check-ins and check-outs, dealing with the local 'back line' of instruments, equipment and sound crews, local promoters, interviewers and other hangers-on (like me, I guess'.) That the man has the energy to do what he clearly loves to do on the stage, playing the myriad of instruments he does so incredibly, talking to the crowd, being the public face of Poco, literally 'keeping the legend alive,' day after day, tour after tour, gig after gig, is astounding. I got tired just watching him for four days in New England, never mind what he does everywhere else the rest of the year.
Anyway, back to the Layover From Hell. Rusty called back a little after 10 to tell me that, now, the flight was cancelled, and they would be staying in Chicago, and would not make it to Providence until sometime Monday. Thankfully, the shows didn't start until Tuesday. So, I made my way back out to the 'Pocomobile,' a 15-passenger white van, which I proceeded to drive, nearly empty in more ways than one, the 90 minutes to Topsfield. I cancel their four reservations for Sunday night, confirmed my own and headed up to my room for some rest.
Monday dawned, and still no Poco. I waited for a couple of hours in the hotel lobby, unsure of what to do, given that I had no idea when they were getting in. However, mid-morning, Rusty called (does the man ever sleep? I wondered) and said they would be on the original flight scheduled for Sunday, and would arrive just after 5 p.m. local time, in Providence.
So, I putzed around for a few hours, hit some golf balls at the range (my wife, again smartly-nothing new for her-told me to pack my clubs, just in case) and then climbed back into the 'Pocomobile' and took the 90-minute trip back to Providence.
Naturally, when I get there, the AA arrivals board told me that the flight was, well, only 25 minutes late. I rejoiced. I stood by the arrivals gate, just up the escalator from the baggage area, figuring the guys could probably use someone to help with their carry-ons at that point. As I joked to Rusty later, I withstood the urge to make and hold up reservations sign that said 'D.HENLEY.'
Just after 5:30, I saw a fairly dazed-looking Jack Sundrud walking up the arrivals exit ramp. Whew, I thought, they made it. He was carrying a ton of carry-on luggage, given that, due to prior problems with airlines breaking their equipment, many of their instruments are carried on the plane. He smiled when he saw me, gave a big hello hug and we waited as Rusty, Paul and George made it into the terminal. All four look very tired, and, well, stunned. As Jack later put it, 'I'm so wiped out, I feel like I'm in another dimension.' Of course, their luggage and instruments had made the Chicago connection on Sunday, so they literally had only the clothes on their back for over 24 hours in the Chicago airport.
We picked up the rest of the luggage, consisting of the heavier and larger instruments, like Rusty's steel and Paul's guitar, and made our way back to the car (as many of you know, the contract rider for most shows requires the promoter to provide amplifiers, monitors, microphones, and a complete drum set, which cuts down the carrying costs considerably for the band members). We head out of the airport, giving Rusty a pause and a smile as we travel on the 'Mary Brennan Parkway' (honest) back to the interstate, heading north again, for me, the second time in less than 24 hours.
The ride gives the guys a chance to relax a bit. Jack rides shotgun with me, and we shoot the breeze about Nashville music (I'm working on a column about the new breed of Nashville songwriters, like Jack, Craig Bickhardt, Jim W, Helen Darling and others, who are carrying on the, well, legacy, of Willie, Waylon and the like, at least in my humble opinion), my legal career and what's it's like to sit in the Chicago airport for over a day. In the back, Rusty, Paul and George remain quiet. After the day they've had, it's really no surprise. But, as George put it, 'I slept so much in the airport, I probably will be up all night here.'
Back at the hotel, Rusty dons his road manager persona and gets everyone checked in. The guys go to their rooms to stretch out and relax a bit, and we agree to meet for a late dinner in the hotel restaurant (minus Rusty, who, not surprisingly, stays in his room to rest). Dinner is a bit quiet, given their two- day Trip From Hell, but is a relaxing, catching up, time, nonetheless.
I get up early on Tuesday, the first day of the shows, to make sure that I know how to get to the venue.
While reports are that the public is clogging Route 1 in both directions to the fair, I get directions for the 'back way in' from the hotel's fleet manager. Rusty has told everyone to be downstairs, ready to go to sound check, at noon for a 2 p.m show time. We pile all of the instruments back into the Pocomobile (believe me, you can get a day's workout just hefting Rusty's steel case, it's gotta weigh 30 pounds easily), take the back route and arrive behind the main stage.
It's very business like at sound check. It's a melded cacophony of plugging in, testing microphones, monitors and amplifiers, tuning instruments (of course, some genius designed the stage to allow direct sunlight on the instruments, which kept going out of tune throughout the two days) along with George beating rhythm after rhythm on the drums (a word on George's contribution to this band. It's remarkable. He's a veteran R&B drummer, a member of the fantastic Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section in its latter days, and, as such, he adds a bottom and depth to Poco's music. In contrast, George Grantham was a much higher drummer, a country and western player, as George Lawrence explained it. As Lawrence said, not necessarily better or worse, just different) The venue, consisting of bleachers on the sides and at the back and a roped off grass area down in front, is empty now, as Rusty starts 'Child's Claim to Fame,' and they finish it out, testing and checking everything around them.
The band breaks about at about 1:15, slightly less than an hour before the afternoon set. Jon, Georgina, Alison, and Marc have arrived, and will run the merchandising sales for both shows. We unpack the three large boxes of tee shirts, CDs ('Running Horse' later sells out) and drum sticks (as George jokes, 'it's $10 for the left one and $20 for the right one'). These heavy boxes are more of the items that the band has to bring on the road with them. Luckily, this time two were sent by Rick directly to me in Connecticut to bring to the venue, and Jack brought another on the plane with him, which cut down the hassle a bit.
Jon, his family and I have all had backstage access at many Poco shows, and we know enough to leave the band to themselves in the last half hour as they prepare to go on stage and play a show. At Topsfield, with little backstage area to change, the band has already worn their stage clothes from the hotel. Normally, they will change from a very casual tee shirt for sound check to more formal, pressed clothes to wear on stage for the show. Rusty works out the set list (one more thing for him to do'.), and has posted it on the stage so all the band members can see it from their stage positions. Paul and George munch on sandwiches provided by the promoter. Jack makes a couple of quick cell phone calls to friends and equipment providers in the area.
Just at 2 p.m., the local announcer takes the stage. The band members move from the trailer to a spot just below the stairway ramp to the stage, waiting to be introduced. Curiously, the announcer says 'here's the band that gave you ' 'Shoot For the Moon,' ' (Rusty remarks later, 'I have no idea where he got that from') and they take the stage. The turnout is meager, only about 200 people spread out in the stands and on the grass, but the ovation is as warm as the beautiful Indian Summer weather. Rusty greets everyone with a big smile (you'd have no idea looking at him on stage just how much work he has put in and how much hassle he, and the others, have endured to get to this point) and jokingly warns the rather older crowd 'the first one is rock and roll and then we'll calm down,' and they are off, into 'Legend.' The tiredness from the two days of interrupted travel is gone, all four have their 'stage presence' on, and the show, from an audience perspective, goes well.
All four sets over the two days are only 60 minutes long, per the contract with the local promoter, and, curiously, while there is a contract provision for them, the band performs no encores. After finishing with a touching 'Heart of the Night,' which Paul dedicates to the 'wonderful people of New Orleans,' the band comes off stage. Rusty has informed them there will be no 'meet and greet' signing after the first show, and has me drive them back to the hotel, given there is about four hours until the second set.
Back at the hotel bar, a bit of winding down occurs, as Rusty and Paul agrees to meet in the hotel bar, and Jack and George adjourn to their rooms, probably to surf the Internet. Both are avid computer users and travel with laptops. George, in fact, runs his drum shop business via computer and proudly says that he is working toward a paperless business.
A disk jockey from Sirius Satellite Radio has scheduled an interview with Rusty, and has brought an armful of older record albums for Rusty and Paul to sign, and they comment on each as they sign them. It's a trip to hear some inside stories about those albums that we've all worn out over the years (Here's a sample: Paul, while looking at, and signing, the cover of 'Legend' recalls 'when we played 'Heart of the Night' the very first time through, in the studio, Steve (Chapman, the drummer) looked up and said, 'man, that's a hit.' I wasn't so sure. Boy, was he right.'). Rusty goes to a quieter table in a corner of the bar for the interview. While that happens, Paul and I grab a late lunch and watch some baseball on the bar TV. As we eat, I casually mention to him how great it would be to hear 'Bad Weather,' my favorite of his many wonderful Pico songs, in the evening set. He nods and says he'll see what he can do.
Rusty has everyone meet at 6 in the hotel lobby for the return trip to the Fair. The night has turned a bit chilly, since we are only about 30 miles from the New Hampshire border, and it's reflected in the crowd, which is only about 150 people. The band goes with a quieter, more acoustic set, and, interestingly, gets the biggest ovation for 'Good Feelin',' which Rusty introduces as 'one we've done many times in Boston.'
Most Poco fans know that the set closes with 'Crazy Love' and 'Heart of the Night,' which saves the band's two most popular songs for the close. Tonight, though, it's a bit different as, following 'Crazy Love,' Rusty and Paul confer on the stage. Seconds later, Rusty walks back to the microphone and says 'tonight's a special night because it's the 50th birthday of a good friend of ours, Mark, who's our attorney, as well as our chauffeur for these shows. Here's one for him, that's a real Poco classic.' The band then leaves the stage as Paul performs a breathtaking version of 'Bad Weather.'
Thank goodness it was dark out because no one saw the tears in my eyes.
After the show, the 'meet and greet' takes place, with, it seems, just about everyone who was in the audience buying a shirt and/or CD and having it signed. The guys, gracious and friendly as always despite all the travel snafus and having just played two great shows to albeit very small audiences, chat amiably with the fans. I've been with them at many 'meet and greets,' and, no matter how tired they are, nothing ever seems rushed. In fact, after signing any and everything put in front of them, they ask if anyone wants to take pictures and they get up and pose with fans for another half hour or so.
And, it's always so gratifying to hear fans come up and say, 'I've been listening since Day One and you guys sound as good now as you ever did.'
Ain't that the truth, huh?
After about an hour of signing and posing, the instruments are packed up and it's back to the hotel. Rusty and Paul hold forth in the bar, again, for a bit, and then everyone goes off to bed, to get ready for Day Two, my actual birthday.
I get up fairly early, as I always do, and wander down to do a workout in the hotel gym. As I'm heading back to my room Paul is walking through the lobby. He walks over with a big smile on his face, says 'Happy Birthday, man,' and gives me a big hug.
One hell of a way to start my 5-0, sweat from my workout getting on Paul notwithstanding.
It's another gorgeous Indian Summer day, and we decide to have lunch first and then get to the gig around 1 or so. Rusty buys me a birthday lunch and all the guys toast me. Then, it's to the Pocomobile for the final trip back to the Fair. Everyone has checked out of the hotel, so the back of the vehicle is packed with overnight bags, suitcases and instruments. Since there's now nowhere else to go, Rusty decides there will be a 'meet and greet' after the afternoon show and then, most likely, a walk around the fair.
There's a new soundman on Wednesday, too, which helps immeasurably. He seems to actually care what the band thinks about the sound and how it projects to the audience. The first day's sets sounded a little muddy, particularly the vocals, and Jack remarks after sound check on Wednesday that this new guy seems a bit more interested in getting it right. There's still only about 200 people in the stands, though, so I have a concern that it's going to be a bit thin out there again, better sound or not.
A Neil Young CD was playing over the PA system before the show, so Rusty, being whimsical, decides they will open, probably for the first time ever, with 'On The Way Home,' which long time fans know is usually reserved for the final encore. Rusty remarks to the crowd 'Neil was our opening act today, since this is only right.' The fourth song, just like the other three sets, is Jack's 'Shake It,' which is very cool in that whimsical (at least for this song) strong voice that he has.
After he finishes, Jack announces to the crowd that it's 'our friend Mark's birthday, so let's give him a hand.' I get an ovation from the crowd, and Jack then remarks 'and he's only 22!' which gets a big laugh. Rusty is seated, making adjustments at the steel for the next song, but, in his best Monty Python voice, follows Jack with ' and he's not dead yet.'
Then, something remarkable happens, one of those things that always makes a Poco show, and a Poco crowd, special. After 'Crazy Love,' there's an incredible standing ovation. Paul then performs 'Heart,' to another loud ovation. Rusty then thanks the crowd, stands, and people get up again for about a three minute standing ovation, causing the band, seemingly a bit stunned by the strong reaction, to bow again and again, Rusty clapping back to the crowd, on stage. Backstage, they remark that the reaction was so much better than the first day.
The 'meet and greet' goes well, everyone saying Happy Birthday to me, the 'old man' selling the merchandise, as the guys sit, sign, chat and pose, yet again. It's interesting, because I can see them let down a bit backstage, seeming tired and not that enthusiastic after three shows and travel, but when they get to the merchandise tent, they are, again, just as up, happy and conversant as they were on stage. It's remarkable, when you think about it. I mean, let's face it, they're not kids anymore, but they seem to enjoy, and feed off a great audience reaction, both on stage and at the 'meet and greet.'
Eventually, all the autographs are signed and all the pictures are taken. The venue clears out and the guys decide to walk around the fair to kill some time before the final set of the two-day gig. Rusty walks into a tent to buy some jewelry for his wife, Mary. Paul and Jack wander out to the pig races. I grab a soda and call my wife. Such is life on the road.
We get back to the stage area just before show time for the final set. A former road manager comes backstage to visit with Rusty, Paul and Jack. The crowd is a bit larger than Tuesday night, given the weather is a bit warmer and it's the last set. The band returns to the stage, and, again, the crowd responds with standing ovations for 'Good Feelin',' 'Crazy Love,' and the finale, 'Heart.'
Afterwards there is a final 'meet and greet,' lasting well over an hour. Then, the band gathers up their instruments, and it's time to take them back to the Providence airport. It's about 9:15 when we leave the venue, it's a 90 minute ride back to the airport, and there's an 8 a.m. flight to Missouri for the Wildwood shows awaiting them the next morning, as they start the tour travel merry go round all over again.
Not surprisingly, it's very quiet in the Pocomobile going back to Providence. The only light emanates from Jack and George's laptops. Paul rides shotgun with me and we chat a bit about potential warm weather climes for retirement (don't worry, for me, not Paul''), but he soon dozes off. Rusty is quiet in the back, probably thinking about all the planning and work he has to do in anticipation of Wildwood.
We arrive at the airport hotel just before 11. We unload, and it's, unfortunately, time to for this Birthday Boy to say good-bye. There are hugs all around, and it's been just a beautiful time for me, just like every other time I've been involved with Poco over this more than three decades of great music and fun.
So, that was it, Poco for my 50th birthday, hanging around, and hopefully helping just a bit, with a tremendous group, no, band, of guys who have put a smile on my face and made me feel just so much better every day for the past 37 years.
Here's to the amazing Poco. Let's make it another 37 years, guys.
And, another 50 for me.
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