Birchmere shows, spring 2001

RT did a run of shows at the Birchmere right around Easter, and I ended up being talked about as well as talking on the list. I had the delightful and somewhat unsettling experience of being called out, by name, by RT to give him a request and had to come up with one ("Don't Let a Thief Steal Into Your Heart"). Then there was the Chocolate Bunny Incident, which led to an e-mail to Flip Feij of the Richard Thompson for Completists site--now, alas, erased) that he then disseminated to the list.

First, here's Flip, who will then cut to my letter to him:


As the Birchmere gigs seem to have ended in An Exclusive Pam Winters Tribute, and we've heard Pam is away for some time, I'd like (after a short hesitation) to come forward with the story Pam mailed me after the first Birchmere concert. I pretty well know it's not done putting on private mails to the full list, but I think this mail really says it all: a proof of ultimate RT-fandom, that - maybe, in European circumstances - could only be equaled by Emanuelle from France. No offence meant to either of these female RT-lovers of the highest class. I think forwarding this to you all is worth the naughty sin. If you want to flame me for this, please do (but keep it off-list, please ;-)

Pam addressed her letter to me and to someone else on this list that I know of , but I think she was silently hoping I would forward it to the guys in RT's direct environment & I'm afraid I surely did.

Imagine, it's earlier this week. Just After Easter 2001. Pam Winters:

QUOTE:

Dear Flip:

I am too humiliated to approach Thompson Management with this tale directly. However, should it prove significant in the future, it would be best if the details were made clear. You may share them at your discretion. Herewith, my affidavit.

- - -

I do admit to bringing 11 (eleven) chocolate bunnies to the Birchmere this evening--Easter evening, April 15, 2001. They were not removed from my bag when it was searched (glanced at) by Birchmere officials.

Having gotten a seat within four yards of the stage, I was quite thrilled and perhaps a little giddy. I admit to having then freely, nay promiscuously, and certainly gleefully presented a number of these bunnies to various friends, strangers, and other folks at the concert, including one Simon Tassano.

I attest that the following conversation then took place: When Mr. Tassano asked, "Are you going to give a chocolate bunny to Richard?" I asked him if he would like me to give it to him to give to Mr. Thompson, or should I just follow through on my original plan of, and I quote, "lobbing it at him onstage." Mr. Tassano's reply, as I recall it, was, "Oh, yes, lob away: but make sure that you DON'T HIT THE GUITAR."

I swear that I was quite well-behaved throughout the concert and did not cause anything approaching a ruckus. I can call witnesses who will verify my account--oh, except that they were probably too busy gazing, slack-jawed, at the amazing Mr. Thompson to notice my demeanor.

I thought carefully about the bunny delivery, and at the beginning of the first encore, after judging the various trajectories and considering the placement of the folks in front of me, I forswore all lobbing activity and asked the nice woman seated between me and the stage to gently ease the aforementioned bunny onto the stage near Mr. Thompson's feet.

I was not responsible for the people around me who pointed at me extravagantly when Mr. Thompson held up the bunny with a smile and gleefully announced that he could "play all night if I had 50 more of these."

Most definitely, I deny ALL responsibility for what happened next, when, in a fit of Easter- and Thompson-induced euphoria, a friend (who shall remain nameless) pitched HER bunny in the general direction of Mr. Thompson, where a metallic BRZNNNGGK! suggested that it had hit at least two guitar strings. I do not believe that this bunny's velocity was enough to do any damage. Really, though, am I my friend's keeper? (Perhaps my friend needs a keeper.)

I do, finally, swear that I will never again bring chocolate bunnies to a Richard Thompson concert, even if it is Easter. I am relieved that no one was injured, that no harm seemed to have come to the guitar, and that Mr. Thompson was forgiving enough to join me in a post-concert chorus of "My Bunny Lies Over the Ocean." Nevertheless, I am mortified at what might have happened.

Respectfully submitted,

Pamela Murray Winters

P.S. I didn't even get a damn bunny of my own. Thompson got Bunny No. 10; I gave Bunny No. 11 to our waitress as part of the tip.

P.P.S. My friend the bunny-lobber had only one beer; I had only two beers, and one was stale. So alcohol did not factor into this incident.

P.P.P.S. I ought to have noted earlier that each bunny was sealed in a foil pouch. No one was flinging loose chocolate around or anything. I mean, at least not in my section of the Birchmere.


- - -

[I believe that it was two nights later, April 17, when I was called upon for a request and asked for "Don't Let a Thief Steal Into Your Heart." My listpal Scott kept talking about it on the list, and I replied to one of his messages:]



Not to sound ungrateful or anything (reminds me of the joke about the lost child with the punch line "He had a hat!"), but what I really miss is the coda that he sang at a St. Ann's show a few years ago--the one that goes something like

You're living in dreamland
And you're standing on quicksand
Won't you try try try to understand
Don't let a thief steal into your heart

That really made the song for me back then--I hadn't been a fan of it before that, but that performance, with its evangelical fervor, really knocked me out. I'm glad to hear him doing "Thief" again.

Pam (and again and again....)