Cat Jahnke Mews

For a long time I thought that Pessimism was my Optimism. I was never disappointed. But then a hitch: what could I do with results that were even worse than I had expected? How could I accept a human response that was far darker than I had anticipated?

Perhaps you can relate. There’s nothing like close quarters or a financial transaction or a life-or-death emergency to bring out the demons in those around you. It’s like standing on that glass floor and realizing you’re afraid of heights; you need a crisis to bring it out.

And when you love someone, or like someone, or at least sense a goodness in someone, and they let you down or take advantage or at least behave counter-productively in that crisis, it can be a stake through your heart. It can be defining. It can be the end of something you’d imagined would be infinite.

I gave up the saccharrine image of the glass being half-full to embrace the bittersweet safety of a beverage in decline. I was prepared for the worse, but not the worst. So maybe the vessel is really too small and my “half-empty” is actually drops in a bucket.

Bottom Line: People = Shit, and they can always sink lower than you would expect.

FYPB!

P.S. D-Bot and I are celebrating our 4 year anniversary today. This is not about him. As I mention below – when he pisses me off he gets a song, not a blog…

In honor of Canadian Music Week, SXSW, and the upcoming Junos, I offer a blog I had intended to post back in October that relates to those delightful industry schmooze fests.

***

I was fortunate enough to take part in the recent Ontario Council of Folk Festivals conference in Ottawa (Oct. 12-15 2006). While I felt that the ritzy hotel room I’d rented was wasted, I was overjoyed that the event afforded so many opportunities to mingle with the bigwigs. And how lucky for me that there was so little time to eat: I only spent $15 during the entire weekend!

Here are a few obscure tips I’d like to offer anyone jaded by previous experiences:

1) Pay for it with blood money.
*** Do something absolutely awful (like work 9-5) to scrounge up the ridiculous fees we’re expected to shell out for an event such as this. It’s easy to get grant support or to dip in to the band fund or to call on the ‘rents, but the more traumatizing the trade of your time for cash, the more likely you’ll be to refrain from snoozing in your hotel room until your showcase.

2) Offer free hugs to anyone and everyone.
*** I cannot stress this one enough (unless you’re creepy or stinky). Try to think of one person on the planet who wouldn’t accept a benevolent hug. It’s a great way to end an encounter and it’s an even better way to start one!

3) Present a defining characteristic.
*** Manufacture one if you have to. Glasses, hat, pigtails, funky shoes, a cape: find something memorable and stick with it throughout the event. With that in mind, maybe your “lucky t-shirt” should stay on the bathroom floor; let’s be hygienic here… Whatever you choose, the point is to make sure you’re unmistakable.

4) Go by yourself.
*** We all need somebody to lean on? Nope. Not at a music conference. Be lonely, be uncomfortable – just make sure you tug on that coat sleeve and follow the advice clearly stated in ..2. At the glamorous opening festivities it might be more calming to imagine munching crackers and cheese with your bass player, but committing yourself to a conversation with him just means you can’t show off the hunk of spinach caught between your teeth to the booking agent who’s trying to get your attention.

5) Relish (and record) the regrettable.
*** Perhaps this one is more obvious, but it’s still worth mentioning: You go it alone, you catch the eye of that elusive industry professional and, in making your way over to his side to offer him a free hug, you trip on your cape and gracefully fall flat on your face. Or maybe it’s that danged spinach again, peeking inelegantly from between your pearly whites, surreptitiously making an impression while you grin away. Yes these are awkward moments, yes a more charming approach might have been intended, but later, when following up with a delegate who has met hundreds of people in three days, the “in” provided by your gaffe is priceless. Consider your humiliation an investment in the future.

So there you are, five tried-and-true tips to ponder while you ride the elevator with the booking agent from overseas or the festival AD from down south. Of course you could always employ a more traditional approach and rely on hours of research about each panelist or on meetings you set up beforehand. But that’s not the way I roll…

Any other suggestions?

***

Please be aware that I take no responsibility for a strict adherence to these tips.