The Things We Do For Love

As Marilyn McCoo once said so musically, last night I didn't get to sleep at all. Which was problematic, as I was to be at work at 3 am. I slept for a maximum possible amount of 2 hours. The good news is that I got to leave at 1 in the afternoon. I took advantage of this opportunity, despite the threat of the oncoming fatigue, to fulfill some obligations.

First of all, as faithful readers will know, I promised Sean a picture of Midwestern Fall taken from the back patio of Stan Hywet. And although it is still a bit premature for maximum fall foliage here, I really didn't know when another opportunity would present itself. Also, I had to get a birthday gift for the party I am going to tomorrow night, and I recalled that the gift shop of Stan Hywet had some nice, relatively affordable Don Drumm sculptures.

Well, this seemed like a well-made plan. But upon arrival, I discovered it was the dreaded OHIOMART weekend at Stan Hywet...homemade crafts and their crafters running rampant on the grounds...the only parking now several miles away!!! Strolling minstrels and their mime companions a certainty! Horrors!

Not to be daunted from my task, I found a somewhat illegal parking spot across the street from the entrance and, really, just walked in. Perseverance pays off. Missions were accomplished.

I arrived home and showered in a feeble attempt to muster the energy for my final obligation of the evening.

I went to the Mustard Seed, a healthy-food store, which has a balcony restaurant. The musical guest this evening was one Miss Anne E. DeChant, songstress with a guitar.
I decided to take myself to dinner, and to see the show.

Dinner was angel hair alfredo primavera with chicken, a house salad, a passable Black and Tan (draft Guinness and Harp), and for dessert, an espresso. The service was competent. And once you get all settled, the ambiance can be misleading...it does seem as if you are in a fairly nice restaurant, then your eye wanders and you remember that you are overlooking shoppers in the pet food aisle...Very odd.

Miss DeChant, certainly easy on the eyes, tried her best to be upbeat, and to play some snappy songs. This was made more difficult, I am sure, by the hour of the show (6 pm), and the non-existent lighting. The problem with this plan, in my opinion, is that she excels on lullaby-type ballads, accompanying herself on a high-capo'd guitar. Her voice, though not powerful, enters your soul with its melancholy and bittersweet tone. Granted a concert of these low-key, slow tempo tearjerkers would be ill-advised, I strongly feel that that that genre is her forte.

She was accompanied on the stage by a back-up harmonist, which was nice, who also supplied some meager rhythm on the peppier tunes, via her “accomplished” tambourine and shaker work. This struck me as more amusing that it should have, because when I first saw Miss DeChant, as the lead singer for the group Odd Girl Out in the 90's, she was the maraca and tambourine player. I was glad to see that she had picked up the guitar. That being said, she still mostly strums, but on one particular ballad (one of the killer high capo'd ones) she had the strings ringing like bells. Beautiful...and a reminder to get your Paxal prescription refilled.

Sidebar: I still get really annoyed at performers that think it is ok to take the stage in jeans and a t-shirt. Dress up a little.

My friend, Kim Gerstenfeld, was a HUGE (and I do mean HUGE) fan of Odd Girl Out, complete with their bumper sticker on her Volkswagen. This being said, I think she took me to see OGO about 35 times, the most memorable being when they opened for The Mamas and the Papas at Cain Park in July 1992. MacKenzie Phillips was supposed to be there, but she was too...well, YOU KNOW, to make it, but Elaine "Spanky" McFarlane of Spanky and Our Gang was there. That was pretty cool. A beautiful summer night, picnicking on the grass, with great music, and then the Mamas and the Papas .

Yep, back in the day, I could have recited the set list for OGO, I had seen them so much.

But that, as they say, was many years ago. I haven't seen or heard Anne E. DeChant since moving to Seattle in 1995...about ten years! And in that time, well, things happen. Things like my friend Kim getting up in the middle of the night in 1997, and her roommate finding her dead on the bathroom floor of an aneurysm in the morning.

So, I went to see your gal Anne E. for you tonight, Kim. I think you would have liked it. You are still in my thoughts my friend.