Spencer Bell Legacy Concert at Trees, Dallas, 4/24/10

Spencer Bell Legacy Concert at Trees, Dallas, 4/24/10 05/30/2010

As a webmaster, I failed you at the Spencer Bell Legacy Concerts on Saturday. As a person, I had THE time of my life.

I was in a zone almost from the moment I entered Trees. It was a mix of newfound freedom and brilliant art and passionate people that intoxicated me far beyond the effects of alcohol. I found myself not crowded in the front row for the first time in many shows, and I used the space to DANCE. I sang and swayed and jumped and laughed. If my first SBL concerts had yielded a certain intimidation for me, this was whatever would be the opposite. Exuberance. That was what this was. It was a celebration. Of life. Of friendship. Of hope.

For me, it was game changing.

However, that does not mean that I have a lot of specific memories of the day. It simply means that SBL Spring 2010 shone a bright light on the fact that I have been living a Plan B life and gave me a glimpse at who Plan A Stefanie is. More to come on that later...

I won the ASCCNow drawing for balcony seats for the afternoon show, so a new friend and I took to the stairs upon the opening of the doors and claimed spots farthest from the stage so our angle would be better. Almost immediately I noted that the Trees’ bouncers were outstanding. They were definitely enforcers, but did their job while being incredibly personable and kind. They rotated upstairs regularly to make sure those in the balcony were those with the right bands, but they stopped to chat and fist bump and – in one case – dictate a tweet for my account.

Standout moments from the afternoon show:

Dr. Gary. Hammer. He started out his undergrad years as a theatre major, and it is working well for him now. He is a driven man with a lofty goal and a dynamic way of lighting up a crowd. He had people infuriated, enlightened, and invigorated. Perfect.
EVRO is pretty darn stellar. They had a kinda hardened take on “Billie Jean” that I enjoyed.
Drew and the Medicinal Pen again rocked. How did I not own their album before the afternoon show? It has now been my workout soundtrack for a week!
Tin Tin Can, oh, how I had missed dancing to you. “What’s worse: they will eat dirt” is one of my favorite lines ever.
I cannot even come close to fairly describing what it is like to watch the Stevedores play an SBL show. Pure brilliance and beauty. I would have wept had it not been so distinctly celebratory.
JAKE! Yeah, I was FULLY a dancing fool by his set. How could one not be?
I seriously hadn’t REALLY danced to 100 Monkeys in 6 shows. Having space was awesome! I think there was some beast freeing going on for me.
One pick of a guitar and I was in tears. “Violin” coming from Ben Johnson may always level me. Beautiful.

The evening show was equally a whirlwind, but I think it is known by now that what will forever frame – and possibly define – the night was a certain electrical hiccup, forever known as The Blackout.

If The Blackout defined the night, Dr. Hammer defined the blackout. He. Didn’t. Miss. A. Beat. He was building to a crescendo when the power went, and he simply increased his vocal projection and kept going. The groans of the audience were short-lived as he commanded their focus to return to the reason for the assembly.

Myself, I smirked when the lights went. I was not alone in that. Something brilliant was about to happen. I had no idea what, but there were too many geniuses present for that to be wrong.

I have no idea who was onstage first and what order the entry took. I was in the back and – well – it WAS a blackout. I saw shadows. More importantly, I heard sounds. That 45-minute jam session was unutterably beautiful. Whether the contribution was in rhythm or harmonica or tumbling pass or scurrying to patch things into a generator, the addition of each artist redefined what had tried to define them. They took control of the uncontrollable. It was pure genius and art and teamwork and....family.

And isn’t that what the night was about, anyway? Electricity is optional. Love and art are not.

“Plan A: Make good art for money for food.

Plan B: There is no plan B.”

- Spencer Bell

Eventually, the electricity decided, “If ya can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

If I was exuberant in the afternoon, I was defiantly rapturous in the evening. Missy Liu sang “Dandelions” through tears. I giggled as Jake Miller belted, “Turn off the radio! TURN OUT THE LIGHTS!” I heard “Made of Gold” live. And finally...

But first...

At some unclear time in the night – after the lights had returned and the show was progressing as originally planned – one of the bouncers I had met in the afternoon stopped by, temporarily pulling my focus. He looked shaken. I looked at him ponderously, and he leaned in and said, “I mean...the show was good this afternoon and everything...but...(looked at the stage)...when the lights went...and they...man...that was just f*cking cool. These guys have my respect. That was just...”

I smiled as he choked back the emotion that was trying to escape.

“I know. Spencer is having a f*cking party. ‘There is no Plan B.’ (snapped bracelet) Welcome aboard.”

We fist bumped and he walked off into the crowd and I returned to my natural high.

And finally...

“Thunderdome.” For anyone who has witnessed the “family jam,” you know what I mean. For those who haven’t...well...get to an SBL concert. I can’t describe it. It is, at its base, true friends making fabulous music in honor of a lost comrade. Yet, it is not that AT ALL. The toast portion is known and oft uttered in Spencerian circles, but the WHOLE song is a toast to me. A toast to truly invested relationships of all types. A toast to making “live” an ACTION verb instead of a state of being. A toast to endless possibilities and the courage to chase them.

Because, after all, “There is no Plan B."

I climbed out of bed and fumbled all of my possessions into my suitcase and duffle. Some rearranging was needed. I had won the 100 Monkeys signed painting the prior night, so that would now be my carry-on. By the way, thank you Southwest Airline and all of my fellow passengers! They took GREAT care of the art piece.

I actually wrote the beginnings of this blog on those flights home over a month ago. None of those pieces made it to this published form. They were all wrong. I was too close to the emotion of the weekend to glean the correct inspiration or bring to light any sort of meaning, even for myself.

Flying from Dallas to St. Louis to Baltimore to Indianapolis makes for a long day. Somewhere along the line, I realized that I had left something behind in Dallas: My Plan B.

I have NO clue what my Plan A is. What I know for sure is that Plan B has been eliminated from my life.

I am spending this summer doing some things JUST for me. I am taking trips. I am taking walks. I am taking time. Maybe in August I will be clearer. Maybe not. But even if I am not, I will never again face a task – or even a MOMENT of my life – as if it is Plan B. Everything gets Plan A effort. EveryONE gets Plan A effort.

Because life is just too darn short to spend time in any other way.