I do a fair amount of work with artists who come from south of the border. Several reside on different Islands in the Caribbean. Today I am on my way to Trinidad. Once again I am traveling with little info other than my plane ticket and the knowledge that I am working on a show somewhere on that island.
The fact that I have no hotel info doesn’t really faze me. My friend Noel (he hawks Coemar gear) has a friend down here, who needs a guy. This month I am that guy. Seems like this is Mardi Gras season on this island just off the coast of Venezuela. So I have three big parties to run video for. I like parties, which is a good thing. The guy employing me has a reputation as a party animal kind of dude.
I know that in order get thru customs, I need to list a hotel where I am staying. So I go on line and see that there is a Hyatt down there. I’ll list that.
But in reality I am not sure where I am staying. Probably a condo on a beach somewhere I’m told. I have no idea where the gig is. I asked the promoter if it was in Port of Spain, the capitol city. He says “kind of”. Now that this is settled I ask him if he has a bunch of lights as well. “Sure, some of them even move”.
Well it’s now 7 AM and I am ready to fly to Miami and catch a connection down there. I have no gig info, no hotel info, no idea if anyone will pick me up at the airport. So I send out one final email to the promoter (I also cc my friend Noel as well) and ask for any info. And I’m off on another jaunt to a foreign land.
OK, now I am in Miami, last chance to check phone messages and email. Got a few texts here, cool. Noel says to call him. This either means he has info for me OR I should turn my ass around and go back to Chicago. It’s February and Trinidad is located on the equator. Chicago is in the frozen tundra. I know where I would rather be this week and I am not turning around.
Noel says that Johnny, the local promoter will personally pick me up outside customs. Cool, I ask what the guy looks like, expecting that I will have to pick him out from a bunch of local guys who all have the same look. But no, I am in luck. I am to look for a 5’2” Chinese guy and he’s the only one on the island. This is actually the best news I’ve had so far about this gig.
So I expect my new friend to wheel me out of the airport, take me to a condo, take me to a gig, and pay me in cash. This may sound weird to the majority of you out there, but to me it’s just another gig down on the Islands.
I don’t expect everything to work. I don’t expect the gig to start on time. I expect everything from my airplane, my dinner, my driver to be late. But that’s all part of the majestic experience of Island time. Where lack of info is standard operating procedure.
