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A few weeks ago two things happened.  I was hired (or rather a band I am a member of:  the Mighty Rhythm Kings) to perform at the Haddonfield NJ arts & craft festival that kicked off today and lasts all weekend.  I also had a conversation with an editor at Philadelphia Magazine.  In my conversation with him the fact that this Haddonfield Fest was award a “Best of Philly” honor for a family friendly fest.  I pointed out that I am always performing in Chestnut Hill, especially at their two yearly fests.  The editor rolled his eyes and began a rant why Chestnut Hill is behind the times. 

Let me tell you my personal experiance at this “Best of Philly” event that is physically located in NEW JERSEY… 

They required that we arrive almost two hours before we were to begin playing.  This was not an outrageous request, these kinds of affairs can be hairy with traffic and whatnot.  After setting up all our gear Chuck, the drummer, and I survey the area and talk about grabbing a cold beer at some point.  We are scheduled to play four hours, which is a long time - especially for an outdoor gig.  Then the even coordinator shows up and informs us that we have set up in the wrong location.  I still have the forwarded email from her giving us the name of a store (Jamacan Me Crazy) which, apparently, wasn’t the correct store.  But it was okay, as there was another hitch that would cause us to have to move from our origianl location anyway.  (okay?…  riiiight) 

So we do a set.  We are told to turn down every song or so.  We then take an early break as there is some kind of awards ceremony happening across the street from us (the jump swing band they hired after hearing what we sound like).  At this point Chuck and I decide that is, officially, time for a cocktail.  We begin to walk about a quarter mile down the main stretch.  We find two bands playing good covers of horrible 90’s rock music who were twice as loud as we were.  Not fair.  We continues our search for the Holy Pint.  No luck.  We find a bistro, no bar.  We find a British Themed Pastry “shoppe”, no luck.  One of us realize that there is a seafood raw bar the other direction from where we were playing and we trek to that location.  While I used the restroom Chuck spoke to a waitress who informed us that it is a DRY COUNTY.  No tasty beverages for us. 

As I was driving into Haddonfield I did notice two things.  One: the speed limit was 25 mph and NOONE WAS DRIVING FASTER THAN 22 MPH.  Then, two: there was a large sign proclaiming that “The Churches of Haddonfield Welcome You”.  I laughed to myself that it reminded me of certain places in the south that had strict liquor laws.  Little did I know I was totally on the right track.

We played the show.  The public was quite receptive and seemed to truly enjoy us.  More than one person said we were the best act at the event.  My favorite moment came when a bus containing what I can only guess was a high school sports team was stopped in front of us.  They yelled a request to play some blues to us.  Jim, the guitarist, answered via microphone, “Are you guys in prison?” and proceded to lead us into a romping version of  Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”.

I don’t see how this won “Best of Philly”.  It seemed fun, but wasn’t MIND BLOWING.  Like that restaurant that you’ve never had a bad meal at but isn’t the kind of place you would take someone who was visiting you.  And the no drinking thing is so NOT COOL.

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 5th, 2009 at 8:06 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.