Last night, there were 12 black Cadillac SUV’s parked on the curb in front of my gig on K Street. I went around to the back of the building and the security guard told me that the Queen of some desert country was in the private dining room with a lot of grey-bearded men in caftans. What an opportunity! They might hire me for one of those superb hotels in Saudi Arabia or wait a minute, Dubai? The Mandarin Hotel. Hmmm. In Abu Dhabi, do they tip in crypto?
The joint was reeking in tahini sauce as I planned out my set. Open with the score of Kismet. After the applause, jokingly sing “I’m the Sheik of Araby” And then close with Pale Hands I Loved Beside the Shalimar. I couldn’t miss.
I ran out without an intro and was greeted by the headwaiter who handed me a list of the requests:
Hungry Like The Wolf
Tiny Dancer
Bye Bye Miss American Pie
On the Border
Just as the realization that I couldn’t play any of them sunk in, I heard the blessed sound of recorded Arabic music drifting out from the private dining room.
Those requests were from the drivers of those magnificent limousines parked on the curb. Too bad they had to stay in the cars.
He wanted “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.
Here’s a confession: I told him “I just played it.”
He said, “Wow!”
The Third of July is almost like Christmas Eve. Tomorrow we’re going to hear music we’ve known since we were children. “Independence Day” sounds like something heavy with history. But you smile at “born on the fourth of July.”
It’s such a cheerful feeling, being able to sing songs with familiar tunes and inspiring words. Even if you’ve never heard of Kate Smith you can probably recognize her voice singing “God Bless America.” People who have never heard of Marion Anderson know “American the Beautiful.” Tomorrow is the day we raise the flag without irony. Happy Fourth!