The big show, part 2: The HAF report

The rest of the big show, after my Lost Caixa Panic (see previous post), went very well and was generally fabulously fun. This was really a tremendous event. Featuring magnificent (mind-boggling! life-changing!) dancing by Rodson and our dancers, amazing singing and directing and solos (also mind-boggling! life-changing! etc.) from Jorge and our guest singers. A brilliant evening that is what I live for, etc. etc. There's only so many superlatives that I can use - you know the kind of thing I mean.

However, my error count was pretty high. There are Minor Fuckups, Audible Fuckups, and then there are the Highly Audible Fuckups. The most important number, my Highly-Audible-Fuckups (HAF) count, was at something like 8 by the end of the show, and that is what I would like to focus on in today's post. Proper HAF Protocol states that it's important to have a good story and a string of incomprehensible excuses for each Highly Audible Fuckup. Here, let me demonstrate with the following case studies:

Case study 1. The 6/8.
The HAF: I stall briefly during the timbal entrance groove exactly when Brian happens to hit a pause in his solo. Since we are the only two timbals playing, the result is a peculiar brief hitch in the otherwise flashy entrance solo.

Excuse: Wild timbals bucked me off! This was actually kind of entertaining. Brian's timbal was in a stand and we were standing on the (well-sprung) wooden dance floor, and he was playing so hard the timbal was bouncing an inch or so off the floor with each hit! It actually started bouncing away from him. Runaway timbal! (Now I know why most timbal stands have a crossbar at the bottom that you lean on with your foot.) It kept running toward ME for some reason, like a big, excitable golden retriever. Over and over it came zooming over to me and crashed right into my drum - crashing hard, and knocking my timbal right out from under my hands.

Secondary excuse: This was all so exciting that somewhere in here, I hurt my finger. (note: injury claims always make good HAF excuses.)

Show note: Actually the rest of the 6/8 went great. And I did manage to finally play the break correctly! And the dancers were ON FIRE. This is one of my favorite Lions dances, a breathtaking orixa choreography. Danced with an aggressive, ferocious fire that wowed the crowd, as always.


Case study 2. The Afro-samba.
The HAF's (two of them):
HAF #1. I fail to enter. As I am the only timbal, this is sort of obvious.
The Excuse: The caixas sort of started on their own without being counted in, and Mehmet (leading) decided to go with it. A good decision on his part, but since we'd sort of faded into the groove gradually, I ended up completely turned around and couldn't find the 1. Yikes, how embarrassing. Thank god Mehmet started stepping and I got hold of the 1 again off his feet. At this point I really didn't have any idea what to do since I'd missed my original entrance long ago, but I finally thought "Oh, whatever" and just started playing timbal in some random place.

Afro-samba HAF #2. Later, I completely fail to do my sestuplet rolls. (at which Mehmet gives me an Eloquent Look.)
The Excuse: I totally did not hear the surdo roll! I didn't even realize the break was over! Oh, and, one of my fingers was hurting, I swear. I waz injured! My finger hurt and my foot was sore and I could barely keep standing! Somebody in the crowd distracted me. Also, the tempo was weird. (note: bonus point for multiple excuses)

Show comment: Our amazing guest dancer Rodson did a fantastic dance solo for this, and afterwards he jumped down into the audience, and the whole crowd, and I mean the WHOLE crowd, started following his dance moves. He started leading them all around, and people were really doing it, hundreds of people all really doing the actual dance moves. Portlanders dancing! That alone shows you that Rodson is a genius. It was spectacular. And what a stunning talent Rodson is. (or as Brian memorably, if bafflingly, put it: "He's jacked, he's ripped, he is the package!")


Case study 3. The Rio samba.
The HAF: In the middle of a very prominent break, I play VERY LOUDLY in the WRONG spot, ALL BY MYSELF, THREE times. Top that!

The Excuse: Okaaaay this takes some background explanation. So, there is a very flashy intro thing that the Lions play sometimes to enter a samba. Well, Jorge Alabe, our godlike guest mestre, does a cool, longer version of that same break. Where our version enters samba, Jorge's version continues on with more break stuff for a few more bars. I'd learned the new version from him at some point, and so had a few others in the group, but most people didn't know it.

Soooooo, on Monday sectional (attended by only part of the band) Jorge demonstrated the new version, and Brian had said, very wisely: You know what, let's NOT do that on Saturday because most of the band won't know it. Jorge said: of course, of course, I won't do it on Saturday, I wasn't planning to, I was just showing it to you just for fun. Everybody agreed it was very cool and that we would learn it later.

Immediately I got a feeling. I thought: Jorge's going to call this break on Saturday. In the heat of the moment, coming out of a repique solo or something, he's going to call this break and he's going to do the new version. I don't know why, but I was just certain. (Sometimes I have the Sight that way. It's a sixth sense: I see dead breaks.)

Saturday rolls around. Show time. Jorge's doing a FANTASTIC repique solo, and ... in the heat of the moment, coming out of the repique solo... he starts to call that break.... and I thought, silently, "nooooooooooooooooo"

It's a long break, about 11 bars, and the whole time, I felt like I was on a little raft floating on a peaceful river (a river that is 11 bars long) toward Niagara Falls (bar 12).

The break went floating beautifully by, perfect in every way, the little raft floated down the river, and then...

... at the place where everybody was expecting a certain repique call, there occurred, a DIFFERENT repique call.

Over the falls!

An electric shock shot through the group. The whole bateria fell dead silent.

I hit what I thought was the right thing, what seemed like the right thing, and it was just me, just little ol' me and my li'l ol' 3rd surdo, cute as can be, cute as buttons and ALL ON OUR OWN. I was so wired at this point, second-guessing and triple-guessing myself about what the old version was and what the new version was - "the old version would have done THAT, but the new version does THIS. Right? Right? Right? OR AM I WRONG?" I honestly don't know if I did the right thing or completely the wrong thing. All I know for sure is, it sounded an awful lot like a Highly Audible Fuckup.

Near the end, some other people joined in with me and we arrived at a muted, slightly confused consensus of an ending, but at least we did manage to all stop at the same time. Jorge nimbly called us into a samba and we all stormed out of the gate together with much relief.

There, I hope these case studies have illuminated for you how to reflect upon your own personal portfolio of HAFs. We've all done them, and it's part of the game. The point is: Get a good story out of it!

In the end, the thing we'd been most worried about, the new Salguerio intro, went perfectly. The whole Salgueiro samba was a joy and a marvel to be a part of. It is my new favorite samba.

So despite all my HAFs, a brilliant night with too many great moments to describe... I haven't even talked about the beautiful baiao start (and the caixas brilliantly pulling off their baiao drumline showpiece out of thin air!), Rodson's samba dance solo, the new afro macumba.... the sound the crowd made when our dancers appeared.... Randy's hand cues silhouetted against the lights... The heat, the sweat dripping down my legs... My arms burning with exhaustion, but wait, this would be a perfect spot to do one more roll! .... The whole crowd dancing.... The lifesize lion head (where did that come from?), lit with its very own spotlight, staring regally down at us from the stage.

At the end of it, I was dead, dead, dead tired. Timbal and third all evening, and a caixa panic to start it all off; that'll wear you out! I went out for dinner & drinks with a bunch of friends, and was so tired I could barely talk. I got home at 3am and went to bed totally exhausted and very happy. Come to think of it, it was pretty much a real Rio evening all around.