Richard Slade's Western Wind 2002 Tour Diary:

Wednesday April 10
On the Way to Canada
I was on the train at 6:19 a.m. from Fleetwood. I got off at Fordham and found Elliot waiting for me with a limo. We breezed easily to LaGuardia and arrived first of the group. Bill and Gayla (and Aria) arrived a few minutes later. No Todd. Gayla and Elliot both called him on their cell phones -- one called Todd's home number and the other his cell. But there was no answer. Fortunately, he had in fact woken up and was in a cab, and arrived before too long. Getting our boarding passes was a small adventure, since only three of us thought to bring passports (isn't Canada just a northern extension of the USA?), but the Northeastern desk lady allowed us to proceed. The flight was smooth and on time. We set our passenger styles right away, with Kristina grading a stack of papers from her Barnard classes, Bill sleeping admirably, and Gayla stopping traffic by virtue of Aria, the irresistible Maltese.
When we got to Minneapolis, I didn't see many food options, but Kristina went off on her own and managed to discover a good Mexican place. We flew on to Edmonton and faced Canadian customs. They were not thrilled with us. Three singers lacking passports. Two suitcases full of CDs and cassettes -- for sale! And a public concert scheduled. Somehow, they let Gayla and Todd through, and then decided to make a fuss over the rest of us. The customs guy was young, insecure, and none too bright. He wanted to charge us $450 for a performers' fee, a special group rate, he assured us. The only exception would be for religious groups. Seeing an opportunity, I interposed and explained that we were singing a special program of religious music at the specific request of our hosts. I pulled out my music and showed him various settings of the Song of Songs, in German and Hebrew as well as English, skipping past My Funny Valentine and the other secular pieces. He considered what I said and allowed us to pass. Bill was quite relieved. Getting the CDs and cassettes through took some time as well.
Then we picked up our rental van and headed south for LaCombe. I had brought CDs for listening, and we enjoyed some Sarah Vaughan and then the Grieg Holberg Suite. We pulled off Route 2S and found the Greenway Inn. We had just enough time for an early dinner (early by Mountain Time standards) and then went to Canadian University College to get ready for our concert. Canadian U. College is a Seventh Day Adventist school. They had requested that we omit one madrigal from our program: Non al suo amante, which depicted Diana nude at her bath, was too much for them. The hall was small and curiously dead. We were tired and our senses of pitch all curiously skewed. We ran several numbers and went downstairs to wait for the audience to get settled. It was a small crowd: the school was in exam week and many students were too busy for "entertainment." But those who showed up had a very good time. We sang with a lot of spirit, but wended our way into some strange and unscheduled tonalities. When we were done we sold a few CDs and went outside to the van. The sun had just set and the afterglow was an amazing light blue and yellow. Elliot departed with someone from the college, who was going to take him to the airport for his crazy odyssey -- fly to Rochester, sing a concert Thursday evening, fly back to Edmonton and then to Las Vegas, to meet us before our next concert on Saturday. We went back to the inn, where I fell quickly asleep.

Thursday April 11
Workshop and Free Time
I did not sleep well, and woke early. My body was still on New York time. I went for a walk, and saw the tiny downtown of LaCombe, which had been a railroad town a century ago. I took a long bath and read a good chunk of "Wonder Boys," and then ate breakfast at the inn's restaurant. Not bad, but not special either.
We gathered ourselves up and went back to the college for our workshop. First, we sang for them: The Promised Land, with me sightreading Elliot's part; and then Non al suo amante, which only required four voices. We didn't tell them what it was, and only did it (against my better judgment) as a response to having it censored the previous evening. God obviously didn't mean for us to sing it there: it fell apart and had to be started a second time. Then we did warmups, lead by Todd and Bill, with his patented sing-snort-sing combo, a great ice-breaker. The main point of the workshop was for the choir to sing a section of their Easter Cantata, a modern yet accessible piece called "Once upon a Tree," and have us "improve" it, which we did. It lacked theatricality and dynamics. We showed them how to make simple music seem more interesting, and Todd assured them about that this would deepen their faith.
Then we left, regrouped at the inn, and drove south on 2A to Red Deer, which looked like it was a large enough town to be interesting. Not quite. I found two used book stores. All paperbacks. Gayla bought some plane reading. Bill, Gayla, and I had coffee/tea at a pleasant cafe. I saw a gift I might have gotten my long-dead Father, a necktie with a trout fly in it (the hook had been flattened). That was the first time I ever thought of what I might have brought home for him from a tour stop. The five of us found each other at the appointed time and went looking for a restaurant. We settled on the Lincoln Lodge, a place with a German theme. Kristina kvelled about the Piesporter and the dumplings. My smoked Salmon was a bit dry. The waitress was half Scottish and half Hungarian, with an enchanting accent. Todd chatted her up, and Bill flirted. We went back to LaCombe and rented a VCR. Kristina had never seen the Marx Brothers, so Bill and I decided she had to see Duck Soup. Bill howled with laughter. I guffawed. Todd smirked. Kristina and Gayla sat there, and decided that liking the Marx Brothers must be a guy thing. They did laugh at the mirror scene. Then they put on First Family, with Bob Newhart, but I went to bed. The VCR had to be returned by midnight. So Kristina took it to the van, but found that she couldn't open it. The key only worked on the hatchback, so she climbed in that way and returned the VCR. When she got back to her room she found that she had forgotten the remote -- and repeated the whole process. Then she discovered the instruction manual, which cost $40 if not brought back, and had to climb into the back of the van a third time. The video place was closed, but she banged on the door and they let her in. As she recounted this story the next day, I could not help pointing out that while she might not care for the Marx Brothers she had just performed an extended skit in their style!

Friday April 12
Three Time Zones, Two Planes and a Van
We got up at 5:30 local time. Gayla was ever so comforted when I explained that it was really 7:30 a.m. We drove north to Edmonton (the van opened just fine), stopping at a doughnut place on the highway. The sunrise was as spectacular as the sunset had been; a long slow opening of light to our right. Getting out of Canada was a lot easier than getting in. I was most impressed with the new baggage scanners. The attendant put my bag through and asked me to get out my palm pilot and turn it on -- she could tell what it was from the scanner! The flight to Minneapolis was easy enough -- and we were bumped into first class. So roomy! Food! I finished "Wonder Boys."
We were stuck in Minneapolis for hours. Our next flight was delayed. I ate at the food court. The man opposite me looked like a pilot. So I asked him where he was flying. Las Vegas, he replied. Northwestern. He was my pilot! I wandered around, bought a toy Northwestern plane for my son Julian, and sat at the Gate. Both Kristina and Gayla had friends come to visit them at the airport. Eventually, we got on the plane, and had first class seats again. I was well into "In a Dark Wood," but also had a nap. Todd told the flight attendants that he and Kristina were getting married, and they were much fussed over.
We landed in Vegas and shed our heavy coats. It had been about 30 degrees at dawn, and was almost 90 at 5 p.m. We rented another van and drove northeast through Arizona to the southwest corner of Utah. We stopped for water and I bought a cassette of Loggins & Messina: the van lacked a CD player! The drive became awesome as we entered a long canyon, with flashes of lightning ahead. The storm arrived after we got to Springvale. We stayed the night in the Bumbleberry Inn, a lodge near Zion Park. We had bought some beer (Polygamy Porter, "Why have just one?") but I soon went to bed.

Saturday April 13
Awesome Views
I got up early, took a walk, had breakfast, bought Froggy socks for my daughter Madeleine, and then went with Todd into the park. There is a free shuttle bus that runs the length of the park. I rode around for a while, got out and did one of the shorter hikes, up to the Weeping Rock, and came back to town, to the library, to log on for a while. Gayla did not do the Zion Park tour, but she did find coffee -- and wind chimes. She kept her motel room till it was time to leave for St George, so we had a place to change and get ready for the next journey. One by one we all came to her room. Bill and Kristina had done the park together, Todd by himself (he went in with me, but we took different hikes and I left sooner).
We packed up the van and drove southwest. In St George we found a Mexican place for lunch. Most of the entrees looked cheesy and heavy, but I had a salad. The waitress was all alone and took her time, but we understood and were very nice to her. We found Dixie College and loaded our stuff in. Since Elliot had not arrived yet I drove off to find the town's used book store, a pleasant old house filled to the brim, mostly with paperbacks but also with a whole shelf of Mormon hymnals! I got back just when Elliot arrived, exhausted from his ordeals, both the expected (the long trip to Rochester and back) and unexpected (his flight to Seattle was diverted to Portland due to "Hydraulic difficulties" and his plane was met by emergency crews when it landed. Alaska Air arranged for him to fly on to LA and then directly to St George on a commuter flight). We worked onstage for a while and then took a break. El and I drove around town so he could pick up coffee and toiletries.
And then we went on and sang for a good sized crowd. Mostly older people, but a few young ones. Quite responsive -- I love it when audiences not only get the funny bits but actually laugh. The only musical mishap occurred during "In April", when pitch discrepancies in a duet passage confused me so much that I could not find my note for an exposed entrance. Todd, bless him, had the necessary E in his ear and saved us.
After the concert we packed up and drove to Vegas, with a stop (dictated by Kristina) at the Dairy Queen. (Dairy Queen has been a running joke on this tour, since Gayla exhorted the choir at Canadian College not to sing "Come the Gethsemane" as if it were an invitation to Dairy Queen. It *is* an invitation, but rather more intense!) It took two hours to drive to our motel. We were all very tired by the time we got there, but Bill and El had the energy to go out and see the town. I went to my room, turned on the TV (as I always do upon entering a motel room) and heard, to my shock, the voice of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. The Arts channel was running a BBC documentary about her, with interviews and concert footage. I watched a tiny bit and fell asleep. It was not what I expected to hear in Las Vegas, but then I guess she was really a showgirl at heart!

Sunday April 14
The Long Way Home
We got up and ate at the motel, and drove to the airport. We allowed what would have been enough time at any other airport we have been to this week, but it wasn't enough for Vegas. We missed our plane -- they wouldn't allow us to check in less than 45 minutes prior to departure. But they put us on another flight, with a connection in Minneapolis (again) instead of Detroit. Probably a mercy, since the weather in Detroit was bad. Our new flight left a big 15 minutes later. It was sort of like waiting for the next subway! We had enough time for lunch in Minneapolis. I dawdled on my way to the connecting flight -- and ran like hell when I heard myself paged. I was the last person on the plane. Gayla and I worked on future concert planning for a while. Then we landed, split into two groups for taxi purposes, and went home.