Enough plastic wrap to cover your head in shame after playing "I will Survive" for the millionth time
No, not another bandwich!
I'm talking about the "bandwich".Simply put, the bandwich is a catered lunchbox meal with a generic sandwich,Lay's potato chips, and apple, potato salad and a cookie.All foods are wrapped in cellophane.This is the lowest form of catered meal for the working musician, several notches down from what the guests at the wedding are eating, exponentially so.The bandwich is specific to American functions, especially the elite.Mexicans, Armenians, Persians, Italians, etc. will give you the food that they are eating, unless they are very Americanized. The guy that books you at the Beverly Hills hotel will give you the bandwich, make sure you don't talk with any guests, and that you enter and exit through the loading dock.
The bandwich has such a negative connotation in the musician community.In its toxic plastic sheath resides a lifetime of sub-human treatment;layers of mush,mal-nutrition, and taseless provision tossed into a cardboard parody of luxury.It's a white-gloved bitch slap.Two hours of rehearsal, four hours of music, one and a half hours drive, and the bandwich.
This last weekend I lucked out.I met a friend at Mariscos Chente on my way to play a wedding at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach for a magnificent feast along with a bunch of wines she brought. When I arrived at the green room in Newport Beach and saw the bandwiches all in neat rows, I thought HA!! You didn't get me this time.I showed up happy, fed, and sated.My fellow musicians were not so fortunate.I had to watch their sour expressions and long faces as they had a sad and bitter dining experience.
So, shame on you Balboa Bay club, Beverly Hills Hotel, Four Seasons, and Hotel Coronado! And, for those of you who choose to start your new life as a couple together by giving the musicians bandwiches?!! Let karmic justice intervene during your honeymoons.
I've got a better idea. Have someone pick up some tortas, cemitas, banh mi, subs from a decent Italian deli,or let a taco truck pull up and give us $5 vouchers each.It'll cost even less and give us our dignity and put a smile on our faces so that we can play Brick House, Get Down Tonight, Sweet Home Alabama, You Shook Me All Night Long, Old Time Rock n Roll, and Proud Mary with gusto.
I'd like to share something with you.A little known food that is unique to the working musician.Now, I'm not talking your Rolling Stones, Madonna, or P. Diddy, I'm talking the sideman. The sideman is a working musician of varying levels of recognition and accomplishment that backs up name artists, records in the studio, plays on TV shows, travels in every imaginable touring situation, plays bars, and yes, weddings and corporate events.
I'm talking about the "bandwich".Simply put, the bandwich is a catered lunchbox meal with a generic sandwich,Lay's potato chips, and apple, potato salad and a cookie.All foods are wrapped in cellophane.This is the lowest form of catered meal for the working musician, several notches down from what the guests at the wedding are eating, exponentially so.The bandwich is specific to American functions, especially the elite.Mexicans, Armenians, Persians, Italians, etc. will give you the food that they are eating, unless they are very Americanized. The guy that books you at the Beverly Hills hotel will give you the bandwich, make sure you don't talk with any guests, and that you enter and exit through the loading dock.
The bandwich has such a negative connotation in the musician community.In its toxic plastic sheath resides a lifetime of sub-human treatment;layers of mush,mal-nutrition, and taseless provision tossed into a cardboard parody of luxury.It's a white-gloved bitch slap.Two hours of rehearsal, four hours of music, one and a half hours drive, and the bandwich.
This last weekend I lucked out.I met a friend at Mariscos Chente on my way to play a wedding at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach for a magnificent feast along with a bunch of wines she brought. When I arrived at the green room in Newport Beach and saw the bandwiches all in neat rows, I thought HA!! You didn't get me this time.I showed up happy, fed, and sated.My fellow musicians were not so fortunate.I had to watch their sour expressions and long faces as they had a sad and bitter dining experience.
So, shame on you Balboa Bay club, Beverly Hills Hotel, Four Seasons, and Hotel Coronado! And, for those of you who choose to start your new life as a couple together by giving the musicians bandwiches?!! Let karmic justice intervene during your honeymoons.
I've got a better idea. Have someone pick up some tortas, cemitas, banh mi, subs from a decent Italian deli,or let a taco truck pull up and give us $5 vouchers each.It'll cost even less and give us our dignity and put a smile on our faces so that we can play Brick House, Get Down Tonight, Sweet Home Alabama, You Shook Me All Night Long, Old Time Rock n Roll, and Proud Mary with gusto.
I love it! Not really, because it's sad. But good post nonetheless...
ReplyDeleteAhhh,thanks Joanna.
ReplyDeletelol.. but I'm ok as long as they don't slather the damn BLTs with mayo & provide no mustard. I like better than the parties where f-ing cheapskates give us nothing at all. Lately some have treated me to gourmet dinner; hopefully it evens out.
ReplyDeleteAw, man. Now I'm so sad! FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT, BILL.
ReplyDeleteWow! you got mayonaise on yours! This must be one of the more expensive ones...
ReplyDeleteAt least it's better than when they proudly serve day old Macaroni and cheese as a side dish to overcooked fish sticks.
ReplyDelete