Hail to the Chief
Posted by Mark David Manders Tue, 31 Oct 2006 08:30:00 GMT
Have you ever found yourself taking a longer than usual time to get ready just because you have a special event to attend? I’m talking about going that extra mile to look good. You know, trimming your fingernails, ironing your jeans, etc; things you normally wouldn’t do when getting dressed for an average day. This is exactly what I found myself doing Sunday morning. But before I get into that I’d better back up a few days.
Now I realize that I haven’t been updating my “News from the Road” as frequently as I should. One reason is that we have been busy, really busy. I know; that excuse doesn’t hold a lot of water. Another reason is my camera has been broken for the last seven weeks. I won’t get into all the details, but if you ever buy a camera from Circuit City and the salesperson offers you the two-year extended warranty, tell them to stick it. FYI- Circuit City will NOT replace your camera on the spot if it is damaged or broken, I don’t care how much you pay for the accidental policy.
Anyway, I have a hard time writing my “News from the Road” without pictures to look at, so you imagine my frustration two weeks ago when Jim Slaton called and asked if I wanted to go to the Stones concert in Austin. The show was on Sunday, October 22nd, and there was no way I was going to miss it. I called Circuit City to inquire on the repair status of my camera; they referred me to Olympus, who neglected to return my call. That was on a Wednesday, I believe. I had no other option other than to cross my fingers and hope my camera was shipped to me before the 22nd. It never made it.
To make a long story short, the Stones put on a hell of a show, even covering a Waylon Jennings song during the performance. Afterwards Jim and I stopped by Antone’s to catch Blondie’s set. All in all it was an adventure-packed twenty-four hours with no pictures to remember it by.
I flew home early Monday on about two hours sleep and met up with the band. We then headed to Fort Worth to the Mira Vista Country Club to play for Tim Crabtree’s Alliance for Children benefit. During load-in I had a little accident involving a nine-foot, glass door and a monitor speaker. That’s a whole ‘nutha story. I’m still waiting on the verdict from both insurance companies, but whatever the outcome I’d like to apologize to Mira Vista for the extremely large pool of blood I left there at the scene.
After playing the benefit we all headed over to Tim’s house for our annual “after-party”. As usual, the party wound up at his neighbor’s, George’s house. We had intended to stay only for the first half of the Monday Night Football game but ended up leaving much later.
I woke up Tuesday morning to the sound of the UPS guy knocking at my door. I signed for my long-lost camera, explaining to the uninterested delivery man that he was day late.
I spent the rest of last week unsuccessfully trying to recuperate. On Saturday night we played a show at Gilley’s so Kathryn got a babysitter and joined us. Blacktop Gypsy was playing a few blocks down at Poor David’s Pub and after the show we all went down to say “Hi” to Heather and the band. We ended up at Max Stalling’s house where we stayed until the late hours of the night. Kathryn and I got home around 3:00 in the morning (which by now was really 2:00 in the morning because of the time change), hoping the kids would let us sleep in the next day.
On Sunday morning, around 8:30, first the home phone rang followed immediately by my cell phone. Kathryn and I tried to ignore the calls but both numbers kept ringing one after another. Kathryn finally got up and checked messages. She came back into the bedroom and said, “I think you might want to listen to this.”
The message was from the Republican Party committee in Houston wanting to know if we’d be available to play a party the next day in Sugarland, Texas. I returned the call and found out that the event was a get-out-the-votes rally for Shelley Sekula-Gibbs, a write-in candidate running to replace the district seat vacated by former House Majority Leader, Tom DeLay. I asked who the keynote speaker was and the reply was none other than President George W. Bush.
Now I don’t care what your political persuasion may be, but if you are invited to play a gig for the most powerful man in the world, “no” is not a part of your vocabulary. I called and woke up the guys and told them the news. Everyone was available except Bret, who had already taken off work for the Terlingua Chili Cook Off this coming Friday. I made a few more calls and finally got a hold of Chris Lancaster in Paris, who agreed to drum for us. I then took a shower and began that ritual of “super grooming”.
We had to leave that very same night (Sunday) in order to unload our equipment at the venue so the Secret Service could inspect it. We left Dallas around 7:30 and arrived in Sugarland just before midnight. After checking into the hotel we met up with Kevin Lyndley, who was in charge of organizing the event. He rode with us over to the Sugarland Regional Airport where the rally was to be held.
Have you ever seen the movie, “Strange Encounters of the Third Kind”? That is exactly what the scene looked like as we pulled into the airplane hanger where the stage was set up. I had an eerie feeling as we unloaded our gear, knowing that there were untold numbers of snipers perched on hangar rooftops watching us through their crosshairs as we went about our business. Henry, the sound man, jokingly said to us, “Don’t be alarmed unless you notice a little, red dot on your chest.”
The stage was set up on the west side of the hangar with a bandstand for VIP’s located directly behind it against the wall. In front of the stage were two seating, or should I say standing areas, the closest for gold ticket holders with the cheaper, blue tickets in the rear. Forming a semicircle in between the gold and blue sections were three smaller band stands, one for the White House press core, one for news cameras, and the third for still photographers. On the ceiling above the stage hung a huge Texas flag and the walls of the hangar were dotted with several election posters. I have to say, it was quite an impressive set up.
Once our equipment was in place we returned to the hotel to rest up before the big day. Morning came early, and after a quick shower and a light breakfast, we loaded up and drove back to the airfield. We arrived a little after ten and, to my surprise, we had no difficulty proceeding past the security checkpoints to our destination.
A few volunteers were putting the final touches on the stage as we arrived. I noticed that someone had placed a large podium center stage during the night and I asked one of the volunteers if it was an “official” White House pedestal for the president. My question was referred to one of the plainclothes Secret Service agents who was installing bulletproof panels in front of the podium. He replied that, yes, it was an official White House prop; in fact, one of nineteen nicknamed “The Blue Goose” for the blue, velour cover that protected during transport. Grant and I wasted no time in getting our pictures taken at the podium. The agent didn’t seem to mind.
OK, so this was my first encounter with a Secret Service agent and there were to be several more throughout the day, but let me stop here and give a general observation of these men. I have always had an image in my mind of the Secret Service as a group of stern, rigid, emotionless men, kind of like the Buckingham Palace guards, who never spoke, just stood in the background observing the crowd through dark sunglasses.
Was I ever wrong. Most of the Secret Service agents on site, and there were countless numbers of them, didn’t even wear sunglasses. Sure there were a few in suits, but there were also uniformed agents and agents wearing casual clothes to blend in with the crowd. They were approachable, friendly, and courteous. Don’t get me wrong, these men are probably some of the most deadly law enforcement officers in the world, but they were human, very human, and I enjoyed talking to them.
At 11:45 AM we were instructed to leave the hangar for about an hour while the Secret Service did a “sweep” of the premises. (“Sweep” was one of the cool, new Secret Service terms I learned yesterday. It sounds so much hipper than inspection or shakedown.) We secured the trailer door and drove down the road to a little convenience store to get a snack and gas up.
When we returned there was already a large crowd gathered at the entrance to the airport. The gates didn’t open until 2:00, so we waited outside the metal detectors area for about an hour until Kevin came to lead us back to the stage. A few minutes later the crowd began to file into the hangar. What happened next seems like a blur.
The rally began with us doing a couple of songs to get everyone in the partying mood. Now this was not easy. First of all, this was a non-alcoholic function. Secondly, I was not allowed to sing any songs which mentioned alcohol. In fact, I was prohibited, not only from lyrics which mentioned alcohol, but from singing any songs that vaguely implied lying, cheating, drinking, or smoking, as well as any songs that might be deemed offensive or violent. So we started off the day with an instrumental, which we call the “Lafon Shuffle”.
After we played our two songs, the evocation was recited followed by the National Anthem, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the Texas Creed. Next up were speeches from a few Republican candidates running for office in the Houston area. One of these was, believe it or not, a man named “Jim Murphy”. I kid you not. I met Jim just before the rally started and I explained to him that I had a song called “Jim Murphy”. We both got a big laugh out of it and I promised to send him a copy of the CD when I got home.
During the speeches, Stan Chapman approached me and asked if the guys and I would like to relax on one of the White House staff busses parked just outside the hangar. I had met Stan the night before while loading in. He is another one of those guys that, when you first meet, you feel as though you have known him all your life. He would kill me for screwing this up, but I can’t remember what his exact title is. I know it has something to do with either the White House or the Republican Party and that “Protocol” is in the title.
Anyway, Stan led us outside to where the three White House staff busses were located and we made ourselves at home while waiting for our next curtain call. Once again, Grant and I took the opportunity to get a few snapshots.
At 3:09 PM (I’m telling you, they plan everything down to the minute.) we were led back to the stage and performed for about half an hour. It was quite a challenge for me to concentrate on my lyrics while singing. Actually it was a lot of fun. I’d start off in a song that the band knew contained alcohol in the lyrics, and then I’d change it up. For example:became”I just dropped by to pick up my keys, and one more Bloody Mary please”
”I just dropped by to pick up my keys, and one more cup of coffee please”
and so on.
No one in the crowd knew what was going on, but we had a blast.
I’m not sure what the final numbers were, but the Secret Service told me that there were between 6200 and 6500 in attendance yesterday. If anyone is good at estimating a crowd, I would imagine they are. I didn’t know how I would feel playing in front of so many people who didn’t fit our normal audience demographics, but once on stage everything just felt right. Thirty minutes went by like three and we were done. We finished our last song, struck our gear, and exited stage left.
The next speaker was Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison. Now I had played a private party at Mrs. Hutchison’s house about three years ago, but I never thought she would remember me. But to my surprise the Senator Hutchison took the time to thank us during her speech. She said, “I would like to thank Mark David Manders and his band for taking the time to play for us this afternoon. Mark is an excellent Texas singer/songwriter and a strong Republican.” My jaw hit the floor.
Senator Hutchison then introduced Shelley Sekula-Gibbs. Shelley gave a short speech before turning the mic over to the emcee. Once again, my apologies for not remembering names or titles, but this guy’s last name was Yoakum. All I know about him is that he is a famous NASCAR announcer. Mr. Yoakum took the next fifteen minutes and whipped the crowd into a frenzy while the sound man played selected music in the background.
Then it was show time. Over the PA I heard a song which sounded like it ought to have been in a Star Wars soundtrack; it might have been. I don’t know. Then a helicopter appeared coming from the west side and landing one hundred feet from the entrance of the hangar. It was followed by another, then another, and yet, still another. They were big, green jumbo helicopters and they landed in a rectangular formation on the tarmac. Then Marine 2, a Blackhawk helicopter painted green and white, landed inside the rectangle a little east of center. Finally Marine 1, carrying the president, came into view. It touched down about fifty feet from the stage, right where our suburban was parked the night before.
The president stepped off Marine 1 and made his way to the podium while six thousand plus people went wild. OK, I do have one criticism here. It took Marine 1 a while to land and the president a while to get to the stage. In the meantime, the Star Wars sounding song ended. So what song does the sound guy play over the loudspeakers? “East Bound and Down”. Not only does that song seem in bad taste for introducing the President of the United States, but it mentions alcohol! Remember the lyrics:
”Folks are thirsty in Atlanta, and there’s beer in Texarkana, and we’ll get it there no matter what it takes…”
So anyway, President Bush took the stage and delivered a fiery speech. I know a lot of people make fun of George W. for his lack of rhetorical charisma, but I have to say that he looked at home there in Sugarland yesterday and he spoke very well.
I tried to get a few photos of the president from the White House press bandstand, but most of them came out blurry. I am not a great photographer. I did, however, make the acquaintance of a guy named Kevin from the Houston Chronicle, and he promised to send me some of his shots.
After the president finished his speech the music kicked on again. Mr. Bush made his way through the crowd of people in the gold ticket area, shook a few hands, and then boarded Marine 1 for the flight back to the air force base (I forget which one) where Air Force 1 was waiting to take him back to Washington or wherever he was heading next. As Marine 1 took off fireworks exploded in the distance. Within a few minutes the president was gone.
After the adrenalin finally wore off I realized that I had been on my feet for over eight hours. I decided to step outside the door on the north end of the hangar just behind the press bandstand to have a cigarette and relax for a while. As I sat down on a table outside I noticed a utility truck with a crane lifting a workman’s bucket to the roof of the hangar. I asked one of the agents if he was retrieving a sniper and he said, “Several.” I sat there and watched three snipers, one by one, as they loaded their rifles and climbed into the bucket for the ascent to the grass below.
Grant and the rest of the band appeared as the last sniper was leaving his perch. We sat and chatted with the Secret Service for another fifteen minutes before even thinking about fighting the traffic in the parking lot where our truck was located. One uniformed agent in particular, a guy named Kevin from the D.C. area, was very friendly. I said, “So when do you guys finally get a chance to relax?” He replied, “Wheels up.”, referring to the president’s departure. I smiled as I filed away another cool, new Secret Service term.
SIDE NOTE: While proofing this article I received a phone call from Stan Chapman. He informed me that his official title is, “State Department Protocol”. Sorry, Stan; I was kind of close.
