Shinybass Journal Entry 01/29/26

 

 

 

The yearbook

 

 

 

 

Do you still have your old yearbooks? I do. For me, the dusty yearbooks are a tucked away reminder of how remarkably awkward I was, how untamable and obnoxious I acted, and a reminder that I wasn’t prepared for most of the things life threw my way. As I found out later, most others weren’t either, which is good for a laugh down the road, but not in that ‘I’m not sure why I’m mad at everything’ moment. 

Enter 2026, where I have grown up (allegedly), and I still try to be less awkward. I was recently called by a friend who asked if I wanted to help him on a gig. I was really hesitant; the gig was out of town, and I hadn’t left the boys since Maegan died. I called her Mom (several of her visit attempts had been thwarted), and I wanted to see if she wanted to mind the castle as I ventured West for a few days. After she agreed, I had to ask the boys. They were ok with it all, so i was a go for launch. I was headed back to the NAMM show. 

NAMM is a trade show (the longest running show in the US) that has been showcasing musical gear since 1901. The first show patrons complained that there were not enough hitching posts. This year we have too many social media posts. Oh, the punny irony. The history of the trade show is storied, and NAMM continues to try to help the industry, music education, and assists with a lot of business-building and trade education. 

In order to get people excited and attend various functions, prominent members of the musical and pop culture community are invited to the NAMM show for various talks, performances, or appearances. This year, NAMM decided to centralize this process, so enter my friend’s company, and then enter me, who served as ‘Artist Relations’, which to the seasoned professional translates to ‘cat herder’. 

I have been one of said cats. I know in my younger days I had a lot of loose moments. I know in my decades of touring I watched artists that were less motivated for the task or timeline at hand and more motivated to do anything BUT the assignment, which makes me (sadly?) qualified to understand the importance and complexity of the dignified role of cat herder. 

Terms were agreed upon, plane tickets purchased, and the days got closer. Then the sadness kicked in – both from the kids and my inner child. I left several pages of instructions on food, school schedules, activities, play dates, and the like. I used to pack a suitcase for the road in my sleep. I couldn’t figure out the first thing to bring on a solo trip. I packed a bunch, unpacked some, repacked. In past NAMM excursions, I would pack a few T-shirts, jeans and comfy shoes. This year I had to wear something a little more business-like, so packed too many button-downs and hoped for the best. 

Upon arrival, we had an awards show straight away to cover. I couldn’t get into my hotel room, so I quick changed in the restroom and reported in. Just like walking the halls of my old high school, I felt strangely at home, yet couldn’t help but think of past shenanigans in the halls of the Hilton adjacent to the Convention Center. I stopped drinking (just to stay lucid for the kids) so such frivolities wouldn’t be ahead of me. Dammit. 

The first (full, fool?) day I reported bright and early for an awards show. Our job was to monitor the Green Room, and keep the artists happy. One of the first people I saw that morning was Rick Beato, who produced our band’s record in 1999. I hadn’t seen or spoken much with him since then, and we had a lot of time to catch up. If I went home to Nashville that afternoon, I would have been perfectly content with this one interaction, but there was a lot more to see and do. 

I won’t bore you with details, or maybe you want some of those? OK, so basically there was a big tour bus set up in the back of one of the halls acting as a quiet artist village. I hung out there most of the time, except when walking an artist around the show. I’m no security guard, but apparently i played one on TV, so there I was. 

I am still very much a giddy child when seeing legends (as another artist confided the same to me), so meeting luminaries is a big deal. (Name drops ahead – beware). I’m totally fine with the ‘get a picture thing’, but I would rather talk for a bit than take a picture. Naturally, there were some pictures taken, but I was also remembering my ‘place’, leaving obnoxious Steve in middle schools and being present (working) and in the moment. 

There was a show at the Observatory in Santa Ana for Bass Player Magazine Thursday night. We arrived late (duty called), but were able to catch Primus and Green Day, transporting me back to 1995 once again. I saw some old friends in the crowd and genuinely enjoyed feeling the music again in a small venue, as opposed to tiny phone speakers. 

On to the work stuff:

Chad Smith (Red Hot Chili Peppers) was lovely. I told him he and I took a picture in 1995 at NAMM, courtesy of my Kodak disposable camera. He stopped and looked at me and said ‘You realize that was 30 years ago?’ I said, “Ooh, yeah I felt my back twinge as I said that as well”, and simultaneously we both did a mock stretch of our backs. Pretty funny. Chad is enthusiastic and wonderfully inspiring for the kids and supporting music education through his foundation (ChadSmithFoundation.org). 

Stevie Wonder, musical legend. I have no words for the emotions of being close to him for 2 days. No words. Surreal. 

Herbie Hancock: gem. George Benson: amazing. Victor Wooten: my long-lost brother. Nathan East- None better. Brad Gillis: sweetheart. Don Felder: Funny and upbeat. Teddy Riley: All smiles and funny. 

Will I spill beans on a less-than-great artist experience? No, but I didn’t have any of those to speak of either. Another security detail may say otherwise, but our artists were great. The public – eh, for the most part they were civil, but there are always a few that push the envelope. All good, though. 

What did I learn on this trip (as I am always learning and moving forward)? Well, much like High School, we are all trying to figure it out. Sure, some kids made the football team and some are actually GREAT at football, but at their core, they are still living, breathing humans who are looking to somehow fit in. And they like meeting the cool kids just like you and I. 

I also learned that in the middle of my self-imposed exile that I am OK. Truly. I have great friends who offered hugs and support, and great people that have been in my circles for decades, and I am forever grateful that they still have my phone number. I am grateful they still support my whims, my creative ideas, and my vision. As I get older, I also understand the value of a quiet meal with a friend and solid conversation. 

Don’t let this life pass you by. You have a lot to do, and it may require you getting out to do it. Also, you are better equipped than you were in high school. I hope. I just hope your hair is a little different than in high school. I know mine is.