TRAVELMAN in VIETNAM: On Phu Quoc, I fulfilled a lifelong dream of playing guitar on stage! ...LYRICS NOW INCLUDED
The folks at the Q-Hao hostel put together an Open-Mic Night. It was held at Q-House No. 2, a small bar owned by the Hostel.
(Sorry, not many photos in this one. Just my future Pulitzer Prize winning writing. I didn’t take my iPad mini which serves as my camera. Bummer.)
I “performed” a “song.” Those that know me will be shocked, amazed, and horrified to hear this. I play around with guitar, but I am not famous for my musical ability, infamous maybe. Playing onstage was a dream come true, and it went nothing like I’d dreamed. I never thought I could feel such incredible jubilation moments after embarrassing myself in a room full of people.
I had planned on staying at the hostel and continuing my Phu Quoc habit of turning in early, I had no interest in the Open Mic. Owen, Chris, and Alex had put it together. It was mainly Owen, he was a musician and would be performing.
At free beer gathering time in the rooftop bar, they asked if I’d be joining them that evening. I told them I wasn’t sure.
I sat at the bar and got my free Saigon Red. That’s when Clemons entered the bar. I’d met him in the the elevator on the way up to the bar. He’d stopped on the second floor to drop off his bags, he’d arrived only minutes earlier. Clemons was from Berlin and he was on a three week holiday.
We talked a bit, he was waiting for his friend to arrive. They’d split up and went different directions in Vietnam the past week. I liked Clemons right away. Later in the night I learned that he had recently earned his doctorate in theoretical physics. He focused on Quantum Entanglement but was interested in shifting his study to artificial intelligence. A man after my own brain, I knew there was a reason we hit it off quickly.
After the beer and chatting with Clemons, I was feeling sociable. I decided to go to the open mic, Clemons and his soon to arrive friend would catch up with us a bit later.
Fifteen backpackers piled into a couple pre-arranged taxis and we cruised the 3 km north to Q-House No.2. Everyone was in high spirits and ready to share a good time.
Owen started off the show by singing and playing about four songs on guitar. He was good. He had a John Mayer quality to his voice. He played Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me.” He introduced the song by informing the audience that the song was featured in one of his favorite movies, The Big Lebowski. This won him a lot of points in my mind. The Dude abides.
As he played, I debated whether or not I should mention to anyone that I play some guitar. I’ve written one song in my life, and it’s the only song I can play straight through from beginning to end. It has three chords, its called Sitka Blue. It’s a funny, country song about a girl with whom I went on an internet date.
I hadn’t played guitar in months, and I hadn’t played the song since before I left on the trip. I wondered if I’d be able to remember the lyrics. I had a couple more beers. Two guys from Tennessee got onstage, said they didn’t know much, then proceeded to blow us away with some country songs and Ain’t no Sunshine by Bill Withers. After they played, I told myself there’s no way in hell I’m going up there.
No one wanted to play after the Tennessee Two, so Owen got up and played a couple more songs. He mentioned that if you perform, you get a free beer. Beer was more than twice as much as usual at this place. I made the mistake of mentioning to Alex that I played a little guitar and knew one song. That was it, I was corralled into playing. She took my hand, and made me go up, telling Owen I had a song. The supportive crowd cheered enthusiastically.
The truth was, I desperately wanted to do it. On this trip, I’ve been pushing myself to grow as a person. Unlike in my past, now, if I’m afraid of doing something, I do it. If I’m risking embarrassment, I use the excuse that I will never see the people again, that I’m on the other side of the world. If it’s not a matter of embarrassment, I tell myself I may never get such a perfect chance again. I have not become fearless, I’ve become a person who walks full speed through the fear, like a fire walker- ...sometimes. I still catch myself chickening out, but much less.
I sat on the stage behind the microphone, picked up the guitar, felt the intensity of the stage light shining in my face , and almost went into ventricular tachycardia. But there was no turning back.
I decided to introduce the song by explaining that Sitka Alaska is a place with deep blue skies and it was the handle used by a woman on a dating site. She called herself Sitka Blue. I also warned people that we’d reached the amateur hour portion of the evening. There I was! I was doing that thing Neil young, Eddie Vedder, David Bowie, and Dave Grohl do, sitting with their guitar, telling a story before they go into the song. About three words into my story, I realized this, and my voice began to quiver and shake like a shanty in an earthquake.
I began to stumble over my words, so I got to the point and said, “So here’s a little song about a girl I met late one night on the internet.” It was the first lyric of the song which I repeated after the instrumental intro. This got a laugh and I felt like a bad-ass for nailing the segue.
Then my mind went blank. I started forgetting the lyrics.
New spontaneous lyrics came out of my mouth. My rhymes were derailing like train cars in that same earthquake. I had to stop the song for a second. A second turned into many seconds, endless seconds. I desperately searched my drunken brain, but my brain responded with, “Sorry, dude. Can’t help you, too busy keeping you from passing out and/or running into traffic.”
I started again, thinking I had it. The crowd cheered, but I didn’t have it... I gave up, said, “That’s it I can’t remember the rest. But you can find my album for sale on amazon.com.”
Somebody yelled, “I wanna know how it ends!”
I replied, “So do I. Really, I’d like that more than anything.” This got a big laugh from the crowd. They cheered for me as I exited the stage feeling like a catastrophic failure... who succeeded! I got up and did it! I risked complete mortification, ostracization, and every other bad “-ation.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt horrible and elated at the same time, mostly elated. When I mentioned to people that I felt good even though I embarrassed myself, they said, “No! You did good! You shouldn’t be embarrassed at all. it was great!”
They were being nice and supportive. But the truth is that the bar was set very low. Everyone was out to simply have a good time. I picked the perfect opportunity to launch my rock stardom. Looking back, I had no reason to be embarrassed, I was willing to get up there and give it a shot. I kept a fun attitude all the way through, even enjoying the embarrassment I felt.
Chris said that his favorite part of my “performance” was me looking upward as though praying to Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, L. Ron Hubbard, and any deity that would listen and provide me with the lyrics. No one answered. We had a good laugh about the moment.
I still explode into a smile and bust out laughing when I think about the entire time on stage.
Clemons and his friend Pablo showed up after I played. The three of us ended up at Rory’s Bar later that night and hung out with some girls until 4 in the morning. We went swimming in the ocean around 3 am. I slept until 1230 the next day.
That night Pablo, Clemons, and I went to a great fish BBQ on the beach next to Rory’s. It was crazy cool to sit eating the fresh fish on a Vietnam beach, listening to the waves roll in and out... and the unfortunate Justin Bieber playlist being blasted through the speakers of the restaurant.
Song Lyrics included by request...
Well, here’s a little song about a girl I met
Late one night on the internet
Well she had a smile and eyes so bright
Turned midnight to broad daylight
Well, I didn’t know quite what I’d say
Thought I’d wait maybe another day
But then I thought, Oh what the hell
It won’t be the first time that I fell
So I shot her a Message and she shot right back
Oooooeeee, I coulda’ had a heart a-ttack!
Cuz she like the things that I liked too
And so I said how bout me and you
Go out for some coffee
Maybe even biscotti
We’ll talk about our favorite tv shows
Don’t worry babe we’ll take it slow.
And I said Whoooo are Youuuu Sitka Bluuuuueee!
Who are you! (Repeat twice and intersperse between verses to taste)
So I asked her what time and she said five
I said yes please and thank you, that’ll be fine.
So two days later I’m sitting in the coffee shop
Sittin’ hopin’ wondrin’ worryin’ if I’ll be a flop
But then she walked in and said How ‘bout a beer?
And I said OEEEEEEEEAAOO!!! BABY!!! I’m right there!!!
An I said Who Are you Sitka Blue?
So we sat at the bar and we had our drink
And I didn’t know quite what to think
Cuz she stared at me for quite awhile,
Without even the hint, of a smile.
So I thought it was time for some drastic measures
Maybe something to ruffle her feathers
So I told ‘er of a time not too long ago
That I had to flee ol’ Meh-he-co
Cuz the Federales were after me,
I had to pick myself up and flee
I had to get outta town before they brought me down
Because a Mexican prison...
Is no place for a clown!
And I said Who are you Sitka Blue? (Etc.)
So it turned out she kinda’ liked that I was on the lam.
She said, “Owheew, honey! You’e quite the man!”
So we went outside and she gave me a hug
I tell you what it was like a drug
But it wasn’t until she said I’ll see you soon
Oeeeoooo Baby!!! That’s when my heart went Boom!!
So we had a time that lasted for days
We had our fun and went our separate ways
When I look to the sky and think of her
I wonder if I’m still unsure
And I say Who are you, Sitka Bluuuuuuuuuuuueeeeee.
Next post: The road to Phnom Penh, Cambodia is paved with sweat, dust, and doubt you’re on the right bus.
!steemitworldmap 10.2002 lat 103.9625 long Open Mic Night on Phu Quoc Island, Vietnam beaches, d3scr
So do you remember now how it ends given you've not consumed numerous beers? Cos I now I wanna know too.
Lyrics now included at end of this post. ...It was somewhat the beer, but mostly sheer terror of being onstage that wiped my memory clean.
That's pretty awesome. I would be flattered if some guy wrote a song about me.
She was.
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Wow, congratulations ! Nice poem