So remember the basketball hoop that Jared hit with the RV? Well, it had pulled part of the cab-over out like a can of sardines and water had begun to accumulate in this pocket of fiberglass and wood at the foot of Kim and Sandi’s bed. So Monday was spent doing some much-needed cleaning of the top bunk and letting the RV air out. We took serious advantage of the sunshine, refueling our souls and drying out our traveling petrie dish. 

Once bleached and dried, we took a roll of Gorilla tape and taped up the gaping hole on the side of the RV. Kim even created a pseudo rain gutter for the water to run off of. I’m officially changing the term “MacGyvering” something, to “Archering” something. She’s got a knack. The rains came later and we laughed at them. For now. 

Sealed up, cleaned up and fed, we dressed in our gig gear and headed to an open mic in Portland called Kelly’s Olympian. When hitting up open stages in towns where we don’t know the scene, it can be a crap shoot as to finding a really good one. We don’t want to waste our time, we want other acts to see us, we need to network, and the ultimate goal is to find rooms that will book is in the future. Well with Kelly’s Olympian, we’re well on our way to all good outcomes. 

A beautiful listening room with intricately detailed ceilings, a huge disco ball, soft lighting, amazing food, and an incredible sound system, all set the stage for the evening. The list was 20+ long, and we were #’s 6 & 7. At two songs each, the line moved pretty quickly and we got to sample a range of standard open mic fare to above-average talent. Then Kim got up. The host introduced her and us as touring acts from Tacoma and then she got started. 

One of my favorite things to do is wait for the collective inhale as Kim takes the stage and that first phrase comes out of her mouth. People don’t know what hit them and it gets me every time. That just set the pace for the night. Jared and I followed suit to a rapt audience and we finished with huge cheers and applause. All three of us were rushed by people wanting business cards, stickers and hugs. Feels good to be out, earning our place, respect, and honing our craft. Thank you, Portland. You can bet your asses we’ll be back. 


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