Montreal: The very definition of "je ne sais quoi."

Right now I'm at Terminal 84 in the Montreal Airport, waiting for my flight back home to depart in a little under 2 hours. I just ate a $15 "grilled chicken" sandwich at some restaurant in the terminal. I write that in quotes because what I experienced between the rather nice French bread was certainly nothing I'd ever proudly call "grilled chicken," had I been the cook...unless the metric for "grilled chicken" is tough and rubbery...

So I went to Second Cup (Canada's version of Starbucks/Seattle's Best) and ordered a latte. Hopefully this will help to hold me over till my layover in Chicago, where I'll get a real sandwich from Potbelly's. [Sign That You Spend Too Much Time in Airports #37: When you know at which restaurants you'll eat in different airports.]

We've been in Ontario and Quebec this past week, and have had an absolutely unbelievable time here. Yesterday--with the exception of the day off in Toronto--was definitely the highlight. We all took the train into Montreal for the afternoon prior to our shows. Jason, Kiana, Tim, Kristina and I went down into "Old Montreal" to check out the sights (it was recommended to us as "the place to see" if you've not been to Montreal before). Our excursion didn't have the greatest beginning, because we really had no idea where to go after getting off the train. But then it ended up being such an unexpectedly fantastic afternoon! We walked past the Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal, and even stumbled across some copies of famous American sculpture/artwork...

Tim shows us what love looks like.

We eventually ended up on Rue Saint-Paul, the main drag in Old Montreal. Unsure of where to eat lunch, we somehow ended up in what is, apparently, the most happening crepe joint in Old Montreal, as evidenced by the massive line when we left. Having had quite a few crepes in my travels, I think I can safely say that the apple, brie, and Canadian maple syrup crepe I had from Chez Suzette is the best crepe I've ever had.

Rue Saint-Paul

A poor photo attempting to display the view from our corner window table.

In our last few minutes before heading back to the train station, we came upon a hilarious street performer. The funniest part of the whole thing was that though he wasn't incredibly talented with his tricks (he kept on unintentionally dropping things while juggling), his timing and sense of humor were so ridiculously engaging. Usually situational humor is not funny outside of said situation, but I think the follow anecdote might translate easily enough via this blog: At the end of his short little act, when people were going up to him to give him money, he shouted very loudly to passers-by in his Québécois accent, "If you just got here, please notice that people are giving me money!"

A shot of Montreal as we head back to the train station.

After catching the train and driving to the theatre in L'Assomption, we arrived to find an unheard-of scenario: all of our equipment had already been set up by the theatre crew. Normally, we arrive at the venue and then are in charge of setting up our own gear (i.e. drums, guitars/amps, percussion, etc.); this venue, however, did all of it for us. WHAT?! Having all of our equipment set up meant more free time for us, which, naturally, meant a trip to the neat coffee shop a few doors down.

We played to a sold-out house, filled with rowdy and supportive Québécois. Not only did they call us back for a second encore (which I've found to be incredibly rare in the theatre world), but I've also never seen an audience enjoy "La Bastringue" more. Usually audiences watch that tune with a blank face; many in this audience, however, clapped and sang along the whole time, because there's not much cooler than hearing a band from an English-speaking province cover a French folk tune. And as if that wasn't enough, never before has an audience cheered so wildly when I've gone down into the splits. Way cool.

It could not have been a more perfect final day to this fall's epic, three-month tour.

Back on the road for our Christmas show in just 10 days!

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A quick update on tour stats.

States performed in since July 2008 (35 total): AL, AZ, AR, CA, CT, FL, GA, HI, ID, IL, IN, IA, KS, KY, MD, MS, MI, MN, MS, MO, NV, NJ, NY, NC, OH, OR, PA, SC, TN, TX, VT, VA, WV, WI, WY

Countries performed in since July 2008: Canada (Alberta, Ontario, & Quebec), Mexico, Costa Rica, Denmark, Holland, Italy, France

Wow.

Rounding the Corner

It's that time of the tour.

In what seems to be a consistent pattern I've noted over the past year-and-a-half, there's always a point just prior to finishing tour when you intensely start to crave home.

And it doesn't matter, interestingly enough, how long the tour is. The tour could be 10 days, 1 month, or 3 months (like this current one).

It's as though your brain chooses to block out the concept of what it is to "miss home," for sake of your own self-preservation. It knows you can't think about home early on in a tour or you'll go crazy. But now, one week away from going home, the end is in sight and my brain has lost its will-power.

There's always some sort of trigger, too. I should have seen this moment coming because this morning provided the perfect setting. I woke up early to go for a run, put my suitcase on the truck, ate breakfast with Hiddy, Annette and Kiana, and then came back to my room where Jason was sleeping. So, naturally, I got out my laptop and signed into facebook.

And that's when it happened. It was as though, for the first time this tour, I was consciously realizing all these things I'm missing at home right now...a close friend's recital the other day, my former violin professor's recital tonight, the smell of my mom's soup and the quickness of my dad's wit. Reading status updates and seeing old pictures can be so destructively nostalgic!

Off to Brampton, Ontario, for tonight's show.

Home in 7 days.

The National Ballet of Canada: Now I get the "pointe."

We're currently in downtown Toronto for a corporate gig we'll be doing tonight, as well as some choreography rehearsals for our Christmas show with our choreographer Brian Hansen this afternoon.

It's my first time here in Toronto, so I'm not only thrilled to be in the "New York of Canada," but also to be staying in the heart of downtown, just a few minute walk from all the big performing arts centers.

After doing a TV interview with Rogers (a large cable network in Canada) yesterday in the morning, our manager John dropped me off at the hotel. There was another TV interview scheduled for last night, but seeing as some of the other band members were doing that interview, the rest of us had the night off. That being the case, I instantly started planning for my free Friday night in Toronto, looking first at the obvious options: Toronto Symphony, Canadian Opera Company, The National Ballet of Canada, and the Royal Conservatory.

To make a long story short, Kiana and I decided to attend "The Sleeping Beauty," performed by the National Ballet of Canada. Later in the afternoon we called to get tickets:

Taylor: Hi, I was just calling to see if there are any seats left for tonight's production of "Sleeping Beauty."
Operator: I think so, let me check. [Operator disappears and comes back.] Yes, we have a small number of tickets left.
Taylor: Great! Do you have 2 seats together anywhere?
Operator: We only have 2 seats, and they're together. They're box seats.
Taylor: Those are the only seats left? You don't have any others?
Operator: No.
Taylor: Oh...okay...how much are they?
Operator: $XXX.
Taylor (aside to Kiana, with defeatism): The seats are $XXX...do you still want to go?
Silence.
Kiana: Yes. Let's do it.
Taylor (to Operator): We'll take 'em!
Operator: ...really?!
Taylor: Yes.

And thus I secured the seats to my first non-Nutcracker ballet...in a box...at the National Ballet of Canada.

So now arises the next issue: what to wear. In my suitcase, the nicest things I have are jeans and a very casual button-down shirt. And we pretty much figured we couldn't wear jeans to box seats at the ballet...

So Kiana and I went to the mall and I bought a whole new outfit (pants, shirt, belt & scarf). Why not, right? As the saying goes, "Go big or go home."

Finding the mall.

Before the ballet.

The Four Seasons Centre.

Kiana emulates the poster.

After buying tickets, this was about the only place we could afford to eat dinner...

Each box had a private coat room with a mirror for primping.
Here, Kiana fixes her hair before we go out to the second intermission to "be seen" by the upper crust of Toronto. Indeed, a small peek into the lives of those wealthy enough to afford box seats on a regular basis.

Second intermission. (There were three acts.)

I'm incredibly pleased to say that the performance was, literally, worth it (and rarely does that expression have more significance than when you spontaneously drop triple-digits on tickets and clothes for one night).


I don't really know how to describe the impact the night had on me. Now that I'm older and more mature, I could truly appreciate the beauty of the performance. It's hard to "get" ballet when you're younger, because so much of it is so slow. I realize now, however, that that is simply a result of ballet exploiting dancers' abilities to control their bodies; it's mind-blowing to think about how in shape they are, and how much work it took to train their bodies to do such crazy things. Watching the lead females hold ridiculous positions for extended periods of time while en pointe and watching the males dance physically exhausting solos is truly incredible. The dancing was breathtaking, and the orchestra was absolutely phenomenal. WOW. I'm still reeling from last night's performance today.

I don't know if I ever thought I would say this, but ballet is so freaking cool.

Hawaii. 'nough said.

Last month we went to one of this tour season's most anticipated destinations: Hawaii.

Arriving at the airport.

Hawaii may have been the "last one picked" when it was finally chosen to be the 50th member of Team USA, but it was by no means a direct result of Hawaii lacking desirable qualities. (Unlike, alternatively, when my being picked last for an athletic squad is a direct result of my lack of skill.) There's probably no way to describe just how beautiful Hawaii is, but I hope the pictures I post can convey some of that beauty.

We were brought to Hawaii for a "corporate," wherein some large corporation hires us to perform for its conventions, meetings, etc. One of the coolest parts of doing the corporate gigs is that the corporation usually puts up our room and board, which then means that we usually get to stay in incredible hotels.

This corporate gig was no exception.

For our three days on Maui, we stayed at the Grand Wailea, consistently ranked in "Top Hotel" lists for all sorts of categories. Perhaps one of the coolest things about the hotel is that it's nearly entirely open-air, that is, there are very few closed hallways. And because of the tropical weather in Hawaii, that usually means that there's a slight breeze blowing throughout.

Here are some pictures of the hotel:

This fountain is in the center of the lobby.

One of the most memorable experiences of the trip was when a small group of us went scuba diving. Though none of the players in the band hold scuba certificiation, the hotel offered a basic instruction program (30 minutes of lecture, 30 minutes with the equipment in a practice pool) one could take prior to a short dive. So on the afternoon of our day off, Kiana, Jason, Hiddy, Annette and I took advantage of this unique opportunity and explored the area the hotel's beach.

Here are some pictures (and a video...!) taken by Eric McDaniel, one of our scuba instructors:

The funniest part of the trip, by far, was getting to work with comedian Paula Poundstone for the corporate. I was really excited to meet Paula and hear her perform live, especially because she's one of my favorite panelists on "Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me!", an NPR news-based game show I follow on podcast.

You know when you build up your own idea of what someone will be like before you meet them, and then hope that that's what she or he will actually be like? For me, I always hope that said person will be friendly and down-to-earth, especially if it's someone whom I perceive to be famous or well-known in some circle. That being said, not only was Paula Poundstone hysterical, but she could not have been more wonderful behind the scenes. Her children were with her at the event, and because they're string players, she asked if she could bring them into our dressing room to meet us. How awesome is that? So, here we are hanging out with Paula and two of her children in our dressing room:

All things considered, our time in Hawaii was definitely unbelievable.

Northern Exposure

So it's been two full weeks since the shows in Arizona. Right now I'm in a van somewhere in the middle of Michigan, heading to Petosky (on the very northern tip of the Michigan "mitten").

To be honest, I'm having difficulty remembering where I've been and what I've done the past two weeks. That probably sounds weird. I guess you could call it "tour amnesia": when one just can't remember where they went to bed. It's taking so much brain power to recall where I've just been...Lexington (MI), Wisconsin Rapids (WI), Kenosha (WI), Wilmette (IL)...and before that...somewhere in the South...oh, and Ohio. I'm on a rooming rotation with some of the guys in the band, and there are days when it'll take me a good thirty seconds to remember with whom I was sharing a room when I woke up.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Just a little flavor of what it's like to be "on tour."

I'd like to share the story of Kenosha. There have been, as far as I can recall, two situations thus far where we've arrived at a venue and I realize, "Whoa...I've played here before...?" One of these was in Michigan earlier this summer (The Palace at Auburn Hills), and the other was a few nights ago in Kenosha. Last year, the show in Kenosha was memorable for the following reason: I threw my bow TWICE during the sword-fighting section of "Rasputin," and dropped it a THIRD time later in the song. Talk about ridiculous! Fortunately, it was one of those really hilarious moments that only occurs in live performance.

So this year when we arrived at the theatre and I experienced tour déjà vu, my next thought was, "I hope tonight's show isn't as ridiculous as last year's!"

I thought too soon.

The whole show went swimmingly--until the final song. It was the final 5 seconds of the tune, and I jumped up into the air to do the splits. I wanted to make the splits extra flat and extra high, so I jumped with every ounce of power my legs could muster. In my zealous thirst for over-achievement, however, I forgot to take into consideration the slipperiness of the stage.

Whoops.

I landed. Poorly. And then slipped and fell backward onto my you-know-what.

[Cue raucous laughter by not only myself, but also the whole band and the audience.]

It's definitely those moments that keep the show fresh, exciting, and freaking hilarious. You never know when something just absurdly ridiculous is going to happen. The best part, too, is when the whole audience witnesses the hilarity as well. A good time is, for sure, had by all.

I experienced no severe injury. Ironically, I must have even done something well in my fall: one audience member went so far as to describe it as "graceful," which would probably explain why more than one audience member asked me if it was intentional. Hah!

I guess it's kind of like Woody describing Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story? "That wasn't flying! That was...falling with style!" Yeah...something like that.

Barrage in Arizona: A Few Pictures from Gilbert

With Amy Bennett & Bill Bitter, orchestra directors at Highland High--they have an unbelievable orchestra program. Amy is also one of the conductors for the Metropolitan Youth Symphony, which I played in as a kid.

With Kate Ernzen, a close friend from ASU.

A group of friends from my high school: Jennifer Yan, Valerie Keim, Mark's friend (who I met that night), Mark Goldfarb, and Jessica Aguilar.

With Annie Pennell, good friend since high school and 4th-grade-teacher-extraordinaire.

Kristina with my brother Scott.

With Maria and Nick Everetts--Nick was one of my private students for 7 (!) years!

With Molly, who also drove out to the Redlands show with my family.

And for the final surprise of the night:

Kiss marks left on my car window by my friends Jere & Lies'l.

I think that's the first time I've ever received such a wonderful gift as kisses on a window. And I'm not gonna lie...it feels good, hahaha.

Thanks, Jere & Lies'l!