PASIC is an annual convention for professional percussionists of all musical genres. It lasts four days and is jam-packed with seminars, lectures, demos, concerts, showcases, and a gi-normous room filled with vendors selling thousands of toys.
It is noisy here.
Steel drums! Bass ones!
There are recognizable instruments...
...as well as weird, new things...
...and some old favorites.
The San Josers will get to play with these next week!
We are surrounded by many legendary, world-famous percussionists. And I've never heard of any of them.
Yurika & I watch parts of a competition (marching, small-ensemble), a concert (a high school percussion ensemble - pretty rockin'), and a maracas lec-dem, which features about a dozen different kinds of maracas, some filled with dried frog eggs. The audience is rapt. But to my uneducated ear, they all sound the same. Hm.
Anyway, we play a 50-minute showcase for about a thousand percussionists.
Since every single one of these people could probably kick our bottoms, chops-wise, we concentrate on ki. And by that, I mean that we girls smile a lot, since the audience is mostly made up of (according to stereotype) straight guys. They seem to like the show.
Onto dinner!
We go to Hoover's with Michael & Theresa Holden!
Hoover's is in an unpretentious strip mall, marked only with a smallish, modest sign. But when you walk inside, the walls are covered with reviews and articles.
A good omen.
So what do you get at Hoover's? Down-home Southern coookin'. And the world's best chicken-fried steak.
And pretty friggin'-awesome chicken-fried chicken.
And did I mention the smoked hot wings?
We got these in honor of Adam.
And the fried okra! And the butterbeans! Mac & cheese! Sweet potatoes! Stewed okra! Garlic new potatoes! Mashed potatoes!
And the blackberry cobbler!
Burp...
And to top it all off, we are staying at the uber-posh Austin Hilton.
Life is good.
1 comment:
smoked...hot...wings...*gurgle drool*
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