Meet Robert Randolph and The Family Band Once you experience them, you'll never be the same...

Yes, yes, lay off. I KNOW it's been a looooooooong time since I've updated, but I've been, well, busy. Dude, how am I supposed to write about adventures if I don't go out and have any

Robert Randolph and The Family Band is the MOST talented, inspiring, up-on-your-feet-and-dancin' kind of group that's hit the music scene since Dave Matthews. Dude, would I lie to you?!? Formally, they've been around since the early 2000's, but all the band members have been playing since they were squirts. I'm not going to give you the full background info as you can do your homework and check them out at www.robertrandolph.net. No, seriously! Go there now and come back to me when you're done. I'll still be here and it's worth the sidebar. Done? Good. And now, back to our regularly scheduled program...

We first heard Robert and his group (Robert, cousin Marcus on drums, cousin Danyel on bass, cousin RayRay on guitar, and not-cousin Jason on piano and violin) open for the Black Crowes in Marysville last summer. Terry and I were just sitting in our seats, waiting for the usual yawner opening band to come out, trying to figure out just what kind of instrument was taking center stage, when we were all of a sudden COMPLETELY blown out of the water. Struck by the intensity and passion behind each of the performers, all we could do was watch and try to take in all the that was happening. I mean, these guys really, REALLY LOVED what they were doing and they fucking ROCKED! We were fortunate enough to have tickets close to the stage so we could watch them just play the shit out of their instruments. See, Robert plays a steel pedal guitar. No wait, he doesn't just play it, it is an extension of him. In fact, all of them play as if their instruments were another appendage. It's awesome. It's an experience. It's soooooooo worthy of your time and effort to go see them live. Yet after they're much-too-short set, the Black Crowes came out and took the stage. Couldn't hold a candle to the opening gig. We left early.

So what does one do when one learns of a new fave band? You stalk them! Kidding. Seriously, you check them out, find out their tour schedule, and go see them as many times as humanly possible. And that's what we did and continue to do. The next stop on the tour was a gig with Dave Matthews at Raley Field in West Sacramento in September 2006. Really cool venue, outdoors, warm night. But the AARP seating nazi's wouldn't let you even attempt to bullshit your way closer to the stage. Oh, and we brought Jack to the concert (his first) and couldn't do too many illegal thangs. (Must set an example and no, kind sir, I don't have any papers on me.) We got there a little late and only saw the last couple of songs that Robert and the guys played. Bummer. We did get to stay for quite a large chunk of Dave's concert, but had to jet when the big guy got really, really tired. Fine. I'll be a good parent and take lil' dude home. He had a good time, we had a good time, but we knew we wanted to experience The Family Band again. And honestly, Jack couldn't help but chat it up about the concert all the way home. Priceless. Gotta love a kid who appreciates good music.

Next stop on the tour, at least for us? The Warfield, San Francisco, March 2007. No Jack this time. Sometimes you just gotta getta sitter. Anywho, we rode the bikes down to a cool hotel on the wharf and taxied to the show. Don't remember the name of the opening band, but the drummer gave me some sticks and a very large hug. I'm convinced my ghetto booty is a magnet for black dudes. Am I right, Robert? We were standing right in the front, to the side of Robert's instrument, and chomping at the fucking bit for the boys to take the stage. When they took the stage, the joint started jumpin'. They played, and danced, and sang, and invited the entire audience into their awesomely cool world. And we were all happy to oblige. We were movin' and shakin' our bodies to the groove. We sang the tunes we knew and swayed our heads in time to those we didn't. And when it was time for the ladies to take the stage, you KNOW I was there!!! You know how shy I am... ;-) For a song or two, the stage was FULL of women shaking their boobs, muffin-tops and asses and a plethora of dudes in the audience more than willing to hold up their camera phones for a quick pic. It was awesome. And of course, Keith, the drummer from the opening band, was on the sidelines waiting to escort me down the stairs and back out to the audience. Thanks, Keith, and DAMN!, you're a rather big dude. Back to the pack I went and became, once again, immersed in their presence. During their break, Jason took the stage and soloed on his piano. I don't know if their are enough adjectives to describe the talent of this man. His bio is quite extensive. Yes, more homework for you. Check him out at www.myspace.com/jasoncrosbymusic. Yes, I'll wait for you. Moving on... After Jason's astounding performance, all the boys once again took the stage. We were blessed with more music and more good times. And when they were leaving the stage and saying their goodbye's, guess who walked up to ol' blondie and gave her his finger pics? YOU KNOW IT!!!!! Robert placed them in my hands, held onto my hands, bowed his head and walked off stage. (Robert, I know you don't remember, but I certainly will never forget.) Dude, the girls next to me were PISSED! Ha ha!! (Cartman voice) Wow. Terry and I have NEVER experienced such a rush of talent and energy. What do you mean the ride's over? We have to go home? Shit. That's it, dammit, we're going to every concert we can.

Along comes Reno, May 2007, Mother's Day Weekend. Happy Mother's Day to me! This time, the boys were touring with Ziggy Marley. Not a bad ticket if you ask me. Got to the hotel early and decided that yes, it was now time to put on our stalker caps and poke around the tour bus area. The worst they could do was say "Away with you", so why not give it a go? Around the back of the hotel we went, Jack on his Heely's, I with the camera and Terry with the watchful eye. And that eye came in handy as Terry spotted Jason Crosby (Cribs). I yelled for Jason who was more than happy to oblige to my picture taking request. A few quick shots and back to the room we headed. Seeing as the concert was general admission, we knew Jack would have to take one for the team and start tripping people as they tried to run for the stage upon the doors opening. You know, just bowl the kid right up to the front, no problem. What, is that bad?!? Nah, we waited with everyone else and still made our way to the front. Rock on. Found a spot next to a boobalicious chick (very nice, but her fake cantalopes were very distracting) and patiently waited. We did enjoy the Ziggy gig very much. Jack swayed, breathed in some natural herb (sorry, dad, but it was a Marley concert) and started to get tired. Our boys weren't coming on until about 10PM. Dude, Jack, hang on man! You've just gotta make it through at least half the set. Our boys took the stage and Jason spotted our family clan in the front. He gave a wave and we were tickled that he remembered our faces. Actually, I think it was the 5 year old that gave us away. Again, the boys did not disappoint. Another great opener, more enthusiasm, but wait...Jack, what do you mean you want to go back to the room? FUCK!!! Fine. Shit. We gave a wave goodbye and sulked all the way to the elevator. But you know what, Jack really did an excellent job. He held it together for as long as he could and we were proud. What more could you ask for? How about a solo return to the concert for a Mother's Day gift? You got it! I got a pass and RAN back down to the venue. I elbowed my way back up to the front of the stage (dammit, missed the ladies song!) and danced my way to the end of the set. Awesome. No gifts from the boys this time around, but hey, I scored pretty big last time. But was I ready to settle for just a fabulous concert? Hell no!!! Around to the tour buses I ventured, camera in hand, fresh coat of lip gloss, sweaty concert hair, and fingers crossed. I was the lone groupie, feeling slightly foolish, but knowing that if I didn't give it a go, I would regret it. And remember, life is about no regrets, right? So I waited patiently, trying to convince myself to hang another 5 minutes, when Marcus headed down the walk first. Hey, how are you? Awesome show. On the bus he went. Next in line was Danyel. And this time, I actually remembered to take a pic with him. Seems I was a little nervous when I saw Marcus the first round and forgot to capture the moment. Got the pic with Danyel and lingered some more. Then, out came the big dog. Robert came sauntering down the ramp. I cleared my throat, asked for a pic, AND GOT INVITED ONTO THE FRIGGIN' TOUR BUS!!!!!!!!!!! Can I just tell you that something like this NEVER happens to me?!? I RULE!!!!...if only for one night. We hung, we chatted, we drank Petron Silver, took pics and headed out to the casino. As we were walking to the casino, over came Jack rolling and Terry pissed. Oh shit!!! Terry, I TOTALLY forgot to check in. I'm very, very sorry, but I got caught up in the moment. My apologies. We all strolled into the casino together and proceeded to lose money. Jack and Terry had to jet as, well, you can't really gamble when you're 5 or with a 5 year old. Honey, I'll be up in a couple of hours. (Okay, I was back at 4:30AM. ) Dude, people bought us drinks, stopped to chat with Robert, it was cool. Very cool. And I got to witness a little slice of celebrity.

The next morning brought a raging hangover (ah, another "te-kill-ya" story) and a 2 hour drive home. We were exhausted. Time to hang out at home and swap some war stories about our weekend. Who knew we'd get to meet Robert and his band of merry men? You can't plan such an experience, you just have to be open to it. And did I fail to mention one of the most important tidbits of my and Robert's conversation? Well, as many of you know, I delight in cooking mass quantities of home-made food for all who are willing to clean up after me. Am I right, Tom? All who know me know that all are welcome into our home to anytime a meal is being served. So why not offer our boys a home-cooked feast while on the road? I mean, come on, how much home-cookin' do you get from a hotel? Even a caterer can be iffy. Robert and I swapped phone numbers with a promise to cook for the boys when they were in town (or even relatively close). Honestly, I don't think he believed me...but I had yet to prove him wrong.

Yes, there's more to this tale, but I must depart. My duties as loving wife and mother beckon...as does a shower after my morning workout. But I do promise to continue this story in a few days as there is much, MUCH more to tell. In the mean time, do your homework. Learn it, memorize it. Clear your calendars for their next local tour date (Saturday, September 29th, San Francisco, Blues Festival, 4:30PM). Download their CD's. Buy their merchandise. Tell your friends. Just enjoy. Be well and remember...do one thing every day that scares you. I did, and look what happened...

Robert doing his thang on stage. Awesome.

Some instrument swapping on stage...Marcus hangs while Danyel has a laugh.

RayRay hangs back while the ladies enjoy their dance on stage.

Jason at the piano working his magic.

Another Race, Another Bruise, Another Cactus...
Part 2
The Day of the Adventure Race

So when one gets bored with conventional races (i.e. 10k's, half marathon's, blah, blah, blah), what does one venture to next? Or should I type 'adventure' to next? Ever heard of adventure racing? I know some of you have (Austen, Lew, Taryn). And the rest of you? Think running, mountain biking, orienteering, puzzle solving, rock climbing all on a fat ol' dose of steroids. Piqued your interest, haven't I...

So Taryn and I had been talking for some time about trying an adventure race. There are many different types depending on how many hours or days (yes, days) you want to spend racing. No shit, some of these races are 3 days long. We opted for the "stick your toe in the water to test the temp" race, also known as 30 miles/4-6 hours long. Plus, we didn't have 6 hours a day, 7 days a week to train for anything longer. That whole "we have a life" thing can REALLY get in the way of monster training. Went to REI to grab an orienteering book as neither of us knew how to read a topo map. What is orienteering? Essentially, it's reading a topography map to get to various designated points on the map. You use a compass for direction and your sneakered feet to run your ass to and from each point. In this particular race, we used our sneakered/roller blading/mountain biking feet. More on that later... You must be able to locate certain markers (mountain tops, rock formations) to make the trek to your destination easier. If you're really good, you can make it in record time. If you're like Taryn and I, you do your best not to get lost...at 2000 feet...in the thorny-ass, slate slidin' hills of Scottsdale, Arizona. Scottsdale?!? Arizona?!? Couldn't you find something in California, ladies? Yes and no. The California races are held in the summer in (No thanks there, heat stroke!) and we didn't want to wait. Hey, we're always up for a road trip! No flying? Nope. Too hard to carry on the motorcycles. Plus the road time gave us time to try and understand how to read the FUCKING TOPOGRAPHY MAPS!!! Where's the GPS when you need it?!? Sorry, kids, can't use GPS during the race. Sigh. Shit. So we stopped our sniveling, boned up, and made it to Arizona in 13 hours. We spent our Friday on the motorcycles (see Part 1), then prepared for our Saturday race. Our 5AM check-in at REI made it an early Friday night for us.

We found ourselves wandering in the early morning dark of the Scottsdale REI along with approximately 20 other teams. Taryn and I tried our best not to look like rookies. We checked in and began setting up our transition area. Bikes? Check. Food and water? Check. Roller blades and scooter? Check. Wait, did you just type roller blades and scooter? Yup. They are optional if one team member doesn't want to run during the first part and very, VERY necessary during the final leg of the race. All teams gathered about 10 minutes before the start to get instructions, tips and all general info. Hold the phone...there are at least 3 teams that are SPONSORED by Monster drink and various other big name companies. What the fuck did we sign up for? Sponsored teams?!? We had absofucking no idea what we were truly in for. Idiots. Come 4:58AM, Taryn was prepped to sprint while I was prepped to scooter. I'm not stupid. I know this girl can run FAST and, well, I can't. The horn went off, we were handed our first topo map and away we flew. Literally. We had to find six points within a 3 mile radius and stamp our cards at each point. We made sure to keep our eyes on the sponsored teams (they were GONE in a flash, but still within view). I'm sorry, but did I forget to mention that we were doing this race in urban Scottsdale? Streets, cars, malls, you name it, we had to contend with it. Sorry, sidebar. So we were off and running/rolling. We're crossing streets and fields and parking lots, keeping in constant communication and yelling to each other when we had spotted the orienteering markers. Back we made it to the transition area and up the rock climbing wall we went. Piece of cake. We were in 6th place. Fuck ya!!! On our bikes we flew, picked up the next series of maps and headed down the streets of Scottsdale to the mountains of Scottsdale. At the entrance to the mountains, we had to write down the word that was on the back of the entrance sign. I told you this race was tricky. Into the Arizona mountains we rode, narrow trails, miles upon miles of loose dirt, shale and cactus. We had three points to find, each very, very far away from the other. We tried our best to keep up with a 2-person guy team, but they headed off just a wee bit faster. Fuckers. Now we started gettin' some altitude. Up, up, up we rode, unsure if we were on the right path (there were several to choose from). Then back down the trail came one of the sponsored teams. They had already found the first point. Are you fucking kidding me? Guess that's why they're sponsored. On we went along paths that were maybe 2 feet wide, lined with cactus, with mountain on one side and sheer drops on the other. How the hell were we going to survive this one? One slip of the front tire and we were sliding down the side. Ouch! Cactus needles hurt!!! There were many points that we had to carry our bikes up and down dry washes and riverbeds. There were boulders that we just couldn't ride around. After about 45 minutes we found the first marker. It was a rock bench on the very point of a mountain. We had to write down the name of the person in which the bench was dedicated. Who the hell puts a bench way the fuck out here?!? Weirdos. Off to point number two. Back through the trails we went, stopping once to pee and grab a few bites of a Cliff bar. I just couldn't pedal anymore - my legs were running on fumes and in desperate need for refueling and a 5 minute break.

There were many teams wandering the second mountain side in search of the second marker. Found it! It was severely hidden around a boulder, up and over the mountain top. One more. We were now a couple thousand feet up. Finally time to ride the back brake down the hill in pursuit of marker three. And we found it (thanks to Taryn's exceptional map reading capabilities and sheer luck) in record time. The downhill portion totally rocked! Having done a fair amount of dirt trail riding as of late, I was quite prepared for a fast downhill ride. I got it. I wore a flat spot in my tire from sliding the back end around and riding on the brake. Awesome. Once back to the paved bike path, we had to ride several miles back to REI and our transition stations, but not before we were asked by one team where the first marker was. Seems that this 2-person testosterone team didn't bother to go in order when finding the three markers. Guess what, boys, finding the first marker is going to take you 3-times as long as it would've had you started from the beginning, like the rest of us. Sucks to be you.

Back at the transition we found our next challenge. Foam rubber jousting!! Yes, sports fans, we had to ride our mountain bikes (no touching the ground!) while holding a foam sword and "spear" a circle on one side, turn the bike around, then "spear" the circle on the other side. THAT was fun. After the jousting, we had the choice to 1. Put together a PVC puzzle OR 2. Go the mall across the street and count how many zebras are in the carousel and find what the price is for a Dairy Queen brownie sundae. Well hell ya we wanted to run through the mall in our race duds! Any chance to look like a fool is gladly accepted. Sporting our camelbacks and bike helmets, we found what we needed then raced back to get our next assignment. Up next was a 6-mile loop through subdivisions and parks to find three words on markers. Taryn was on the scooter and I took the roller blades. Only problem this time was that Scottsdale was now awake and cars had taken over the once empty streets. Stoplights were now our enemies. Shit. Keep it moving. Our second marker was an electrical box at the top end of a neighborhood street. We trudged uphill, wrote down the numbers and looked down a very long, VERY steep road to get out. I swear, I almost killed myself 3 times trying to make it down that hill on the roller blades. I tried to ski it, ride the one brake while in a fetal position, whatever it took to keep from becoming roadkill. I was successful. Thank god 'cause there weren't enough band aids for whatever spill I was going to take. We saw several other teams going like hell, too, to get to the final race marker. This was the win it or lose it moment of the race. Taryn and I expelled every single last drop of adrenaline we had left - it was kinda like trying to get that last bit of ketchup out of the bottom of the bottle. We were rollin' fast, fiercely determined to beat all the other teams around us. But this last marker was tricky. The instructions said to stop at a certain city park, walk a certain amount of paces in a direction, turn 90 degrees, walk another set of paces, turn 90 degrees and look for a word written on a tree. There were 20 trees. One wrong pace or degree and we were screwed. But we weren't. We found it. And just in time as 3 other teams were on our tail. It was one mile back to the finish line and we were NOT going to be bested by these other fools. Man, did we haul ASS!! We cut through parking lots, almost got hit by cars and scooted & skated as fast as 10 year olds. And we did it! We weren't first but we weren't last. We beat guy teams and race veterans. WE DID IT! Now, where's that free after-race food that was promised? We stuffed ourselves with pizza and soda and swapped stories with the sponsored teams. And our race time? 5 hours, 19 minutes. The sponsored teams? Uh, ya, about 2 hours less. Buy hey, we did it, we survived and we have the scars to prove it. I got bit by more than one cactus and actually had a needle lodged in my leg for a while. We both had scratches all over our legs and layers of sweaty dirt. We smelled, we were beat up, but we were proud. We had once again conquered the unknown with a desire to try again....and again and again.

Did anyone eat it on any of the trails? Yes. This poor chick ate it 3 TIMES on the mountain bike portion and again on her roller blades coming down that steep road. Taryn and I were SOOOOOO lucky we didn't kill ourselves in those mountains! I'm serious when I say it was treacherous but at the same time such a huge rush. These races are serious work and very, very dangerous. But the rewards...

We left for home right after the race. Our systems were screwy from all the bouncing around (also known as serious flatulence for at LEAST two hours after the race) and our bodies were spent. Our minds raced and our faces smiled as Taryn and I replayed the events of the day in our heads. We stayed the night at a hotel right next to Magic Mountain. Even after all the events of the day, was I tempted to take a few spins on a roller coaster? Of course! But I just didn't have the energy to drag my sorry ass even 50 feet. So we hit the hotel grill, hotel bar, hotel hot tub and finally the hotel bed. We were proud but pooped.

So onward, my adventure seeking friends. Find something that makes you question your own abilities and do it! Don't ask why, ask why not. Experience. Learn. Push your envelope. Just do SOMETHING that makes you feel alive, that reminds you why you got out of bed this morning and makes you question your sanity. Hell, if nothing else, it'll make for a great story. Trust me.

Peace.