Coffeehouses...

... sure have changed since I was a kid. When we said "coffeehouse," we meant a bunch of teenagers in a church basement or unused building at Olmsted Air Force Base. The stage was small, the closest microphone was in any cabs driving by, and the lighting came from the candles on the upended wire spools we used for tables. If it were any more low-tech, we would have been playing log drums in loin cloths. There, earnest young men and women performed, some of them for the first time in their life, and it was exhilarating, scary, and a maker of lifelong memories.

Last night was my debut as a sound engineer at St. Catherine's Youth Group Irish Coffeehouse Night, and things have ramped up, amped up and anted up since my day, kids. I didn't have the board out and plugged in when the Dad Squad wanted to know how many lights I brought (uh... none...), what accommodations I had made for the DVD projector presentation (uh... what?), and finally -- my favorite -- how soon I could provide the audio feed out of the board to the digital videocamera. It was at that point that I switched to speaking Italian.

You will be looking for pictures from this event. I don't have any. I was busy. (You want pics, take them your @%$&@! self.) The rig was impressive, though, and I only sent death ray feedback through the bins once in the very beginning. People who want to use wireless mics should know better than to stand in front of a closed curtain right over top of the monitor and ask me to turn them up. After that, it went passably well.

Special thanks to my guardian angel, who was portrayed yesterday by Joe Trojcak (Progressive Enterprises, the best place in town for all your recording needs! http://www.progressivestudios.com/ ). Without him, I might have had feedback coming out of the coffee makers. Also, thanks to the dads and kids who stuck around to the end to help schlep gear. It was appreciated.

Coffeehouses have certainly gotten more high tech, but when you stripped away the cables, adaptors, microphones and computerized hoochie-coo, what was left was -- you guessed it --earnest young men and women performing, some of them for the first time in their life, and it was exhilarating, scary, and hopefully a maker of lifelong memories. The performers included Irish step dancers, a flag twirler, poets, guys playing electric guitars, and a couple young rappers, including one very talented girl named Monet. She was especially good.

Kumbaya, however, was not performed, not even once. These kids today....