[Police] The incredible story of how I became Andy's roadie for a day

Well, it doesn’t happen every day to get a call from Andy Summers’ manager first thing in the morning. But let’s start from the beginning... I apologize for this long mail, but I just have to share my amazing adventure with you. Last Thursday. Andy has a gig in Parma, hometown of the worldwide known Parmesan cheese. The ever provident Lydia mailed Andy a few days ago to ask him for the hotel address, which he has given her. I, Lydia and a friend of ours from Florence get there at about 1.30 p.m. We are so lucky as to meet Alberto, the Italian promoter who turns out to be extremely kind and friendly, and Dennis Smith, Andy’s manager, who knows Lydia but of course doesn’t know me. For those of you who’ve never got in touch with him, he’s a brilliant, funny and hearty man in his fifties. They tell us Andy and his bandmates are in their rooms and will reach the venue at about 5 for the sound check, and why don’t we follow them to the theatre now instead of waiting in the lobby for so many hours? And so I find myself driving through Parma in the wake of a white van driven by Andy Summers’ Italian promoter, carrying Andy Summers’ manager and the Andy Summers Trio’s gear. But I still don’t know this is just the beginning. As soon as we get to the venue, Alberto, who only knows my name so far, asks me if by chance I am a drummer. I say yes, because I am. Then he asks if I can set up the drum kit because neither him nor Dennis have a clue as were to start. My mouth falls but I manage to say OF COURSE!. And so I find myself setting up Andy Summers’ drum kit in the middle of the stage where he’s bound to play in a few hours. Importantly for the end of this story, the cymbal case, which I take myself from the back of the van, turns out to need mending: the screw has got spoilt and it takes some effort to break it open. Time passes. Andy arrives at about 6, he is clearly tired and Lydia quickly introduces me to him. We watch the whole sound check, which is much more than I’d ever dreamed of, and we are offered free seats for the show in the front row. After the sound check, although Andy is exhausted, I have him sign my copy of Green Chimneys and Lydia convinces him to let me have a picture with him, which she takes herself. Dennis then asks us if we would be so kind as to sell his last cd “Earth+Sky” to the audience at the entrance, before and after the show, which we happily agree to. The trio, Alberto and Dennis go out for dinner but, because we are in charge of selling the cd’s from the moment the door is opened, we have to stay at the theatre. How are we to eat something ourselves, then? “Help yourself to the buffet” is what we are told. And so I find myself dining at the Andy Summers Trio's large buffet just outside the dressing room, which they’ve only quickly tasted after the sound check. Showtime arrives. It has been a sunny day and, like the myopic fool I am, I have forgotten both my glasses and contact lenses at home in Milan: the only way I can see people’s faces and avoid bumping into them is putting on my sight sunglasses, the only spectacles I do have with me. It is the first time in my life I forget my glasses at home, and I curse myself for being such an idiot on such a day. I am in front row, right in front of Andy, and he knows I’m not blind, so this is what I do, hoping he won’t notice. When he plays I put on my sunglasses, because I am so close and of course I want to see him properly, while in between songs, when he faces the audience, I pull them onto my head, cheering and smiling at Andy’s blurry figure in front of me. But the show is so great that I often have to remind myself that I am sitting in a dark theatre front row with my sunglasses on. Dennis has told us that Andy is studying Spanish at the moment, and it is so funny to hear him speak Spanish to the audience (“Primera vez en Parma...”) as if Spanish was a kind of second national language here. The show ends, we sell some more cd’s, say goodbye to everyone and drive home. Friday morning my cell phone rings and this is what I hear: “Hi, Michele, it’s Dennis!”. I cannot believe my ears. How on earth did he get my number? It must have been Lydia! He’s called to ask if I know anyone who can fix the cymbal case, which I unfortunately don’t, and even if I did, it would be someone in Milan: since Andy is playing in Venice on Friday night there is no way they can make it to Milan in time. And so I find myself saying goodbye to Andy Summers’ manager on the phone, who thanks me anyway for my help and says “I’ll talk to you soon”. This is it, I still can’t believe it and I thought it was worth a long mail to the list ;-). A big ciao from the happiest and proudest amateur drummer on earth(+sky). Michele ______________________________________________________________________ Yahoo! Mail: 6MB di spazio gratuito, 30MB per i tuoi allegati, l'antivirus, il filtro Anti-spam http://it.yahoo.com/mail_it/foot/?http://it.mail.yahoo.com/