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Small Audience,
Big Enchantment
Picking up where I departed last week, serendipity smiled and Amber Rubarth sang and my daughter and I had a strawberries-in-wintertime “Daddy date” in August.
My travel writer friend Ken likes to remind me, “Be sure to turn down a hidden alleyway or go inside a quiet doorway off the beaten path because that’s where you’ll find some of the most memorable experiences.”
Heeding this sage advice, my daughter-who-now-has-a-daughter and I drove down a main thoroughfare in Fremont to a series of smaller and smaller streets with slower and slower speed limits, and eventually turned into a hidden neighborhood. After parking, we strolled in search of an address and at last went inside a quiet doorway.
It was not pure serendipity that guided us off the beaten path. My son had learned of a “house concert” featuring Amber Rubarth. Knowing how dearly his sister delights in Amber’s music, he bought two tickets with one stipulation: I must keep the destination a surprise.
Amber and Dallas after the “house concert.”
Mission accomplished. Not until she stepped inside the front door and was greeted by a host – and a table stacked with CDs and vinyl LPs – did my daughter realize she was about to see Rubarth in a private concert.
In my quarter-century as a sports columnist, I sat courtside at Lakers games and saw Pete Sampras from the first row; I stood on the field a yard behind the end zone for an entire 49ers-Rams playoff game and walked inside the ropes following Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods; and on and on, but I have never been closer to the action than at this concert.
My daughter and I sat left of the stage in the front row – which was also the back row. Well, if there had been a stage. Rubarth, an award-winning singer-songwriter, occupied a card table-sized patch of hardwood floor. If I straightened my legs, I literally ran the risk of tripping Amber if she took two steps in our direction.
It bears mentioning that everyone had amazing seats as there were by actual count only 23 people in attendance. Inside a lovely living room with a vaulted ceiling and a grand piano in one corner, the gathering sat on a couch, a love seat, kitchen and dining room chairs, and in the center back row – which was the third row – high-backed barstools.
With no mic and amplifier required, Amber’s voice seemed impossibly twice as pleasant as on recordings and three times more so than in a large venue. It was wondrous to close one’s eyes and get lost in her singing and guitar playing. But it was even more mesmerizing to watch her at her craft; to see her graceful fingers flex and dance; see the currents of emotions flow across her face with the changing notes; have her warm gaze catch yours and hold it, all from a few feet away.
Before songs, Amber shared their meanings and peeled open her life at the times she wrote them. After songs, she asked audience members about themselves. It wasn’t a concert so much as an intimate party.
Often ignoring her play sheet that rested on the piano, Amber frequently opened the floor for requests. Near evening’s end, my daughter asked for “Song to Thank the Stars” which she danced to at her wedding three years ago. Amber said it was one of her favorites as well and began to strum and sing.
One lyric: “I need a song to thank the stars / That you are mine.”
My feelings precisely as I enjoyed an enchanted summertime “Daddy date” with my grown-up little girl.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …
- Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com