L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

If they come, feed them for chrissakes

October 22, 2008 on 8:41 am | In Backstage Pass, Food, General Musing, Music |

We’ve driven, oh, about two and a half hours to play at your wedding. The instructions included phrases such as “get to the ferry at least a forty-five minutes early”, “turn off the paved road” and “watch for a fence post on the left with a boot on it.” Negotiations with the neighbors to let us to bring a microphone onto the property surpassed the Kyoto treaty, but we’ll be allowed to plug in as long as the sound is not audible from 50 paces away and we stop by 7 pm. The remote farm you’ve chosen to celebrate your special day is charming and the slanted patch of gravel and mud by the creek is the perfect place to set up our gear. Let the festivities begin!

It is standard procedure to feed the band at some point. We’re stuck there for a good four hours, not counting transportation time and we can’t exactly nip around to the 7-11 during a break. We don’t expect special treatment. We don’t need to eat your $150 a plate catered dinners. It’s nice, but a plate of sandwiches in the kitchen will do. And beer. Thank you kindly.

Usually people are generous and there’s plenty of whatever to go around. But two events in the past year were remarkable for opposite reasons.

The first was a wedding so remote Google Maps just said “Here be Dragons.” The grounds included campsites and trenching tools for the guests. It was festive however, with flocks of little moppets dressed as fairies flitting about on the grass. But there was no food for the band. None. We asked. Eventually, a sympathetic caterer snuck out one plate of sesame noodles. For five people. If Sue hadn’t had a can of peanuts in the car we might have been reduced to chewing cable insulation.

Maybe it’s my Jewish upbringing. Maybe it’s that most of the private events we play are for eastern European families. But the thought of anyone being hungry at a wedding is just… inconceivable. We’re still shaking our heads.

The second event was last weekend on a local island. Early in the evening, while we were setting up and waiting to play, waiters circulated with trays of appetizers and they made sure to put the band on their rounds. Drinks were plentiful. At the end of the first set we were told to go to the kitchen for dinner. Even better! The chef served us plates of crisp salmon cakes and quinoa salad with sugar snap peas, which we took to a small table near the stage to eat. The royal treatment!

We started the second set, expecting fewer dancers on the floor as the waiters brought dinner to the guests. But no dinner appeared and guests soon began to exit. Perhaps seeking insulation to chew on. By the end of the set the room was nearly empty and we realized that for some reason, they’d chosen to dinner the band but not the guests!

Maybe times are tough. Maybe the attendees were all islanders happy to have actual mainland people come out to add a little spice to the quiet life. Sure the guests had their canapes. But to the salmon cakes were suddenly heavy in my stomach. The second situation was as uncomfortable as the first.

We didn’t have a caterer at our own wedding. My family and I spent days cooking to save money. But by god, everybody went home stuffed. Everybody. Anything else is just… inconceivable.

Amended to clarify: The second event was a fundraiser, so of course their budget was restricted. I just wish they hadn’t chosen to feed us more than they fed the guests. We would have been fine with appetisers.

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