The musical portion of our first Bell & Field appearance at Kewanee Hog Days involved guitar, piano, sax, two speaker towers and no feedback problems. The post-show portion involved three grown musicians packed into a carnival rocket ship while Tom stared intensely at a tuft of hair on the back of Greg’s head.
One of those situations required considerably more nerve than the other.
A Breeze After the Scorcher
Sunday arrived with nearly ideal weather, especially after the incredible heat the day before. A breeze moved through the Chop Tent, the temperature stayed comfortable, and our little corner had just enough room for the three of us and our gear.
When we arrived, our friend Chris Stevenson was playing. Greg had not seen him in a long time, going back to his days working at Highlands in Bradford, so we sat down and enjoyed Chris’s guitar work before beginning our setup.
We used two speaker towers in a slightly unusual arrangement. One pointed away from the tent toward the larger carnival area, while the other stayed inside. Neither tower sat behind us, which meant we avoided the feedback problems that can turn a pleasant festival afternoon into three musicians quietly negotiating with an angry electronic goose.
Tom’s family joined us, and Greg’s mother made the trip down from Lake Barrington, also joined by Greg’s family and dog, Leo. Nearby, hamburgers and pork chops were being made, supplying both excellent food and a very appropriate soundtrack-adjacent aroma for Hog Days.
With guitar, piano and sax tucked into the corner, we worked our way through the set, including Be-Bop-A-Lula and Sweet Home Chicago. It was Bell & Field’s first time performing at Hog Days, and having Paul there let us approach the afternoon as a trio.
Twelve Tickets, Sold in Multiples of Fifteen
After the show, Greg proposed a carnival ride. Paul was in. Greg was in. Tom was very much not a carnival-ride person, but peer pressure remains a surprisingly effective management tool within this group.
The ride required twelve tickets for the three of us. Greg could only buy fifteen, leaving us with three bonus tickets and no intention of going on anything else. An attempt to give those extras to the group ahead of us did not go especially smoothly: they left the line, then eventually returned at the end. Clearly something had offended them, or they just enjoyed the unnecessary drama.
At least the mathematics had been sound.
The ride was the Hurricane, a rocket-shaped contraption that travels in a circle while also moving up and down. As we took our seats, we were all smiles, waves and thumbs-up for Tom’s family watching from the side. This was the cheerful part, before the tremendous G-force began rearranging everyone’s priorities and faces.
Greg immediately slid against the side of the rocket and received a rapid reminder that it had been a long time since his last ride of this sort. He felt a little sick but made it through fine. Paul, a Navy veteran, handled the whole thing without trouble.
Tom had remembered the standard nausea-avoidance strategy: choose one fixed object and stare at it. The available fixed object was the back of Greg’s head. More specifically, one tuft of hair on the back of Greg’s head.
So while the Hurricane spun, climbed and dropped, Tom ignored the carnival, the horizon and every other visual option. Greg’s hair became his entire navigational system. The strategy mostly worked, which is about the highest rating any carnival-ride strategy should reasonably receive.
The Emergency Corndog Protocol
Once we were back on solid ground, Tom required a Snazzy’s lemon shake-up and a corndog to get going again. This appears to be the proper recovery meal after using another musician’s haircut as a meditative focal point.
The photos from the ride captured the moment in all its dignity. We had gone to Hog Days to play music with Paul, spend time with family and friends, eat pork chops and make our first appearance at the festival. We left with all of that, plus a useful lesson: when Greg suggests a ride after a show, Tom should either resist peer pressure or make sure Greg has a dependable hairstyle.
If you’re considering some live music for your own gathering—carnival ride strictly optional—you can take a look at booking Bell & Field here.