Amphitheater

dictionary with letter A

Amphitheater: (n.) a round location for performing events, surrounded by tiers for seating.

I don’t know if the Greeks intended for their amphitheaters to be outside or not, but every amphitheater I’ve ever performed in was ala natural.

And here is the problem: there is nothing creatively hatched, artistically structured, musically composed or theatrically staged which is better when exposed to the mosquitoes.

The only people who actually like having their entertainment performed outside are cruel promoters and idealistic committees who think it would be “really neat.”

Such an event happened to me in Detroit, Michigan, when I was working a supper club and having great fun sharing music and a bit of hilarity with the audience over dried-up pot roast and light green chicken.

It suddenly occurred to the owner of this supper club that it might be a real public relations boost if we did one of the shows outside in the parking lot, creating our own amphitheater of chairs and signage, advertising the establishment for those passing by or willing to come and sit in folding chairs to listen to music that they could hear at home in their recliners.

Not only was there a dearth of attendance but we got a late start, and the dampness of the early evening created humidity in our speakers, so the sound, as we went along, became more and more muffled.

Perhaps the most aggravating part of this little “amphitheater adventure” of our promotional argonaut was when he came up, feeling the need to justify himself, and proclaimed with an unnerving jubilance, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Yes. That’s what every artist wants to hear–of the disasters available, you ended up with a broken paddle in a canoe on the Niagara River instead of bottom bunk on the Titanic.

Did I mention to you that I don’t particularly care for amphitheaters?

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Amp

dictionary with letter A

Amp: (v) short for amplification. To amplify sound electrically.

“It’s all about the equipment.”

That’s what they told me.

My response was always the same. “Actually, it’s all about the money to buy the equipment.”

I was in my early twenties and had a music group which required a sound system. Lacking funds, I attempted to tap into my ingenuity, which honestly had not yet found root, let alone gained blossom.

So using my limited understanding of electronics, I acquired a beat-up guitar amp, went out and purchased speakers at Radio Shack, which I fastened in to some homemade wooden boxes I had constructed myself, but found at the end of the process that I didn’t have enough money left to cover the boxes with cloth to protect the speakers.

To say it looked homemade would be a statement of generosity.

But I hauled it in from place to place, careful not to puncture the cones of the speakers. The guitar amp was so ill-suited to power the system that feedback and buzz became part of the ambience–which I pretended did not exist.

One night after a show, a dear gentleman walked up to me and said, “You need a PA system.”

He was so kind that I decided not to be defensive and merely nodded my head in agreement. Three weeks earlier he had purchased a Shure Vocalmaster unit, complete with two column speakers, which he decided not to use because his dream of becoming a great rock star had fizzled very quickly.

In his mercy and goodness he donated this system to me.

My God, I was so overwhelmed. The Shure Vocalmaster was the top of the line of the day. Of course, compared to the systems available today, it was clunky, sounded muddy and lacked the power to cover any more than a 150-seat auditorium.

But I used that system in one way or another for the next twelve years.

Matter of fact, I wept when it finally gave up the ghost and became a part of my career history.

Amps are nice. They make what we have to offer louder.

That only leaves one responsibility to us–to make sure what is being amplified is worth hearing.

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix