(Grandpa Horn in front of a chateau in the South of France)
Dear Eveyone,
Our plan was to drive south of Paris for about five hours in Philippe’s VW 10-passenger van to the tiny village of Montbron, about 50 kilometers southeast of nearest large city, which is Limoges where we’d be playing a wedding.
We are to rendezvous at (I thought I heard) PLACE d’Italie. I set my phone alarm for 7:30 and of course I’m wide-awake at 7:15.
I’m on the Metro by 8:15. This of course is an extremely early departure time to rendezvous at 10 a.m., but as you well know, I can’t stand rushing and always choose to arrive early, often as much as an hour early, finding it very relaxing to have a coffee and read the current novel I’m reading. Place d’Italie is an easy ride-–it’s at the end of Line 5, which is the line that services our neighborhood in the 19th arondissement.
Seventeen stops later I emerge from the Place d’Italie exit. Glancing around I see three cafes. I select Café de France, take a table outside in the morning sun, order a petit café creme and freshly-squeezed orange juice and open my T.Jefferson Parker novel, "Where Serpents Lie" [quite a grisly tale where the villian-killer, abused as a child, of course, ends up feeding his alcoholic mother to his pet 20-ft. Anaconda].
By 9:40 I’m wondering why March Chevaucherie, our outstanding sousaphone player, hasn’t showed up. He’s usually very punctual. I take out my cell and call Philippe. It seems Marc failed to set his alarm clock and has just gotten up! It is then I learn that we’re supposed to be meeting at PORT d’Italie, not PLACE d’Italie, which is reached on Line 7. Luckily, Line 7 also runs through Place d’Italie where I am and Port d’Italie is only three stops away. I can get there in ten minutes.
Philippe picks Marc and his sousaphone up and they arrive where I’m waiting at 10:25. I’m thinking my old band leader Dolson would be having a heart attack right about now at this lack of precision.
So, we’re off. Pascal, who usually plays bass for us, will be meeting us at a toll stop near Orleans. He’s going to be playing banjo for the wedding because Alan Kelly had a gig booked far in advance to the wedding. He was quite unhappy about it as the wedding is paying us over twice what his other gig will pay.
The first hour flys by and soon we see Pascal standing beside his small Renault in a parking lot adjacent to the tollway. Having played a gig in Orleans last night until 1 a.m., Pascal crawls into the back of the van and is asleep within a quarter-mile.
On this sunshine day of about 85 degrees the French countryside is gorgeously green from recent rains. While Philippe drives he splits his time between talking with Madeleine beside him and selecting various jazz tunes from his stash of CDs. Behind them Marc works at a book of crossword puzzles while I read about the serial killer who loves and keeps snakes.
The first demand of the wedding for the band is that we are to be outside the church (the Eglise Saint Maurice de Montbron) at 6 p.m. so we can be ready to play the moment the bride and groom exit the church.
(Eglise Saint Maurice de Montbron)
As we approach Limoges, the nearest large city to Montbron, about 50 kilometers away, I glance at my watch. It’s 4 o’clock and I’m amazed that it looks like we should be in Montbron with an hour to spare!
Ah, but wait a minute. Don't count your French Poodles too soon. Something always comes up with French musicians just as I believe we’re finally going to arrive someplace early.
As Philippe takes a turn where the sign points to Limoges’ "City Centre" I suddenly learn that Marc left home without his dress clothes! He’s wearing a nice shirt, but his casual pants are yellow. Yellow? So we’ll be stopping in a mall so he can purchase a pair of black dress slacks.
The pants-buying process blows about 40 minutes and by the time we’re back on the road to Montbron, with Marc working the GPS and calling out directions to Philippe, we of course have lost forever our one-hour cushion.
Montbron is so small we don’t see signs for it until we’re within 15 kilometers. When I bring up the fact that none of the road signs are showing Montbron, Marc assures me that the GPS is right on and we’ll be in Monbron in 15 minutes.
Marc proves to be true to his word. We pull into the parking lot in front of our hotel at 5:30. Because I’m the only one dressed the others rush into the hotel to change while I sit on the hotel patio and enjoy a coffee feeling like I’ve been in the middle of some Bob Hope, Bing Crosby movie,
The benefits of a small town are that nothing is far away. The church is less than five minutes away and miraculously, we are standing with our instruments in hand at 6:03, waiting for the church doors to open which doesn't happen until 6:20. (In the nick of time)
(Antoine and Julie)
We play two or three numbers as the bride and groom, Antoine and Chunlian ("Julie") are kept on the church steps by the large crowd. Finally the bride and groom are guided over to the side of the church next to the band, and when we finish the tune we’re playing (it wasn’t "Who’s Sorry Now"), Julie gives each musician a kiss and a hug, explaining we were a complete surprise, that having us for the wedding was a surprise present from Antoine’s mother, who paid us handsomely to drive down from Paris and was also putting us up in the hotel for the night.
So, with Julie and Antoine beside us, the band leads a parade of guests about 500 yards from the church to an outside area where cocktails would be served before dinner. The parade got interrupted just before we arrived at the reception area because so many people demanded they be allowed to take pictures.
(Grandpa Horn)
(The band had sport coats on when we arrived, but it was about 90 degrees and were immediately shed.)
(Antoine's mom dancing with Madeleine)
(Julie's bride's maids and parents)
Julie couldn’t get over the fact that we had been brought down from Paris for the wedding. She and Antoine had heard us play a number of Sunday mornings on rue Mouffetard, and when Antoine’s mother had come to Paris for a visit on a Sunday, she immediately hired us for the wedding; we just didn’t know that she was going to keep it a complete surprise from Julie and Antoine.
(Antoine's parents)
That Sunday back in March or April when we were hired I of course gave Antoine’s mother a couple of our CDs. There was no question she had listened to it often and as soon as cocktails were being served she came over, gave me a kiss and said I MUST sing "I’ll Be Your Friend With Pleasure"
Not counting Lisa’s Toby’s weddings, this was the warmest reception I’ve ever seen a band receive from the host, hostess, bride and groom and guests at a wedding.
Julie, a knockout herself, was also surrounded by beautiful girlfriends, and all of them made the band feel as if we were rock stars, almost pushing each other out of the way to be able to serve us champagne.
(Julie and her friends)
Our music duties ended when the guests entered the dinner tent around 9:30-–there was a two-man team inside the tent playing CDs for dinner–-and our gracious hostess arranged for a musicians’ table on the grounds outside the tent complete with a bottle of champagne, two bottles of bordeaux and two bottles of rose to wash down the delicious dinner of beef and shrimp.
When I finished eating I went into the dinner tent. Julie and Antoine were very gracious, saying how complete the entire affair was with us coming down from Paris to play for them. Hearing nice things like that are the extra perks you get playing good music.
Bon Soir,
G. Horn
