We descended upon the salty city of Seattle just as the sun went down. The cloud-ridden skyline, made unique by giant cranes protruding from docks, towering mountain peaks, and glowing water, was just magical (please note: most adjectives used by me over the course of the next few days will be “magical” in anticipation of seeing the recently released Harry Potter 7 part 2). Again, the gaping was difficult to control enough to drive safely, but we somehow managed. We arrived at my mom’s friend Rose’s house already looking forward to the following morning when we’d be able to explore the city. She welcomed us in with the warmth and familiarity of an extended family member, and we sat on her back porch sipping tea and catching up until we were ready to pass out.
The next morning, Rose took us to the Pike’s Place Market (after treating us to a most notable brunch at Etta’s, located near the very first Starbucks location). The only thing I knew about the Pike’s Place Market was that dudes in orange overalls throw large fish around. That was enough to pique my interest, but upon entering, I almost forgot about the fish-throwing sea-men (see below).
After an hour or so of complete sensory overload at the Market, Rose had to tend to a few things, and gave us some suggestions as to where we should head next. We took her advice, and hopped on the light-rail towards the International /Chinatown stop.
We stepped off the light-rail and walked right into Dragon Fest, a Chinatown festival spanning four or five blocks that lined both sides of the street with booths selling ethnic foods, clothing, body art, religion, backpacks, and things unbeknownst to us Chicago-suburbs kidz. We wandered here and there, people-watching and doing our best to blend into the sea of Seattle-ans. At one point, a monk shoved an incense stick in our hands, insisting we make a wish at his tent; we stepped in line with all of the other passersby who fell victim to the aggressive wish-spreading peace-maker, and soon realized it was a giant ploy to solicit donations. I didn’t give anything, so my wish for world peace probably won’t happen… Regardless, it was magical. After that excitement, we decided we should get out of direct sunlight (it had been far more than my 10 minute time limit), and headed back to Rose’s to get ready for the show that evening.
The show was at a quiet bar called The Rendezvous/Jewelbox Theater. The stage was in a secluded room, discouraging random walk-ins from hearing the music, but the acoustics sounded fantastic – I mean, magical. We played with a burlesque/spaghetti-Western-type band called Gunstreet Glory, which featured great instrumentation behind an overpowering female vocalist:
Holly Grigsby was the other local on the bill. She was a soft, sweet sounding singer-songwriter, originally from Tennessee. In spite of her reserved, almost timid demeanor, she surprised everyone from the very beginning of her set when she completely stole our attention and did not let it go until the last note of her last song. Grigsby’s story-telling abilities are finely polished and perfected; accompanied by the warm guitar chords and her soothing southern twang, her whole act was absolutely mesmerizing (and magical, of course).
Matt, the bassist from Gunstreet Glory, also played with Holly. He plucked away at his stand-up bass to provide a solid floor for Grigsby to launch from, while supporting her melodies in the most tasteful way a bassist can without overpowering or taking away from the act as a whole. He is a true musician, and a truly nice guy. It was his efforts entirely that made the evening possible, and we hope he knows how much we appreciate everything he did for us.
The next day, I stayed in to catch up on some work while Rose took Carl to West Seattle and several spots in the northern part of the city. He snapped some pretty magical pics to document the outing:
Rose insisted on sending us off that afternoon with Dagwood-style sandwiches, so we piled our bread slices high with tasty ingredients, said our farewells, and headed off towards Portland, Oregon, weirdo capital of the world.
To sum it all up in one short word, our stay in Seattle was just… magical.
Guys! You're so nice! Thanks so much for this video--I don't have many and my mom for one will go nuts. I remember I flubbed on some chords on this one but now I think it turned out pretty enjoyable still. Thank you for having me on the bill. I was just listening to your lovely CDs last night and remembering how super gracious you both were. Hope to see you again one day! Holly
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