A few weeks ago, we were given an awesome opportunity to play at the regionally famous Lumberyard Music Hall in Bastrop, Texas. We thought it might be an opportunity to test out our elaborate scheme of playing a statewide tour exclusively within old closed-down lumberyards. But we also thought it might be an opportunity to have a paying gig. We always take paying gigs.
We arrived and were met by Jeff, the owner of LMH, which he runs in conjunction with the Bastrop Academy of Music. Jeff had papered the town with our show posters, depicting the band as human-shaped music trees, each with an intricate root system. We never pass up an idea for a show poster, no matter how ridiculous or bad.
We set up on a stage that featured a tiny piano just in front of it (see picture). I suppose it is used to teach cats or small children how to play the piano when the lumberyard is moonlighting as a music academy. We were a little late getting started with our show, mostly because we lost track of time pretending to be giants, and also pretending our harebrained scientist spouse, played by Rick Moranis, shrunk the piano. Also, we pretended that 
I belonged to an immigrant family that pooled together its money to buy the smallest child (me) a tiny piano because of my amazing musical talent at age 3. Playing through the years, I entertained my immigrant family with Tchaikovsky and Chopin, but the family simply could not afford an upgrade. Over time, I became increasingly successful, and began playing publicly. Once I had earned enough money through my tiny-piano performances, I upgraded to one more appropriate for my size only to find that I could not recreate the musical magic on a full-size instrument. I resigned myself to live a life of humiliation and shame as I worked to become the world’s foremost pianist, but was forced to play a silly miniature piano. Honestly, that one was probably the one that wasted most of our time and ultimately caused our late start.
Anyway, we were all feeling perhaps a tinge of frustration after our recent gig, wherein we were asked to play at less than 70 decibels. We cranked our amps and decided to really bring the heat to Bastrop and the Lumberyard Music Hall Listening Audience. 
It was liberating to sing loudly and to play our instruments as they were meant to be played, holding nothing back and sending wave after wave of honky-tonk bluegrass tones out into the universe. You know, they say that light waves and radio waves can be received thousands of years after transmission by far-away planets and possibly beings… serving as a sort of time machine. I’m no scientist, believe it or not, but I think that perhaps one day aliens might have the technology to pick up sound waves from earth and listen to what happened that night at The Lumberyard. And I think they’ll probably say (or think through telekinesis) to each other “Hey, these guys really brought their A-game that night. You guys are always talking about how we should annihilate the human race, but this… this really speaks to me. I’m not so sure about human annihilation anymore.”
UPDATE: I’ve been told sound waves don’t travel in space. Bummer. Nevermind.
The point is, we had a great show. Tons of locals came out and some even showed their support. We gave away CD’s and took requests. Robert even found a moment during his Miley Cyrus song when the Spirit moved him to play an impromptu solo on the tiny piano. It was magical.
I think we'll return to Bastrop soon. In the meantime, don't miss our upcoming show, Friday, May 6th at Thunderbird Coffee on Koenig Ln in Austin. It's outdoors, but there is NO sound ordinance enforced!!
