Random Celebrity Memories! Vol. Four: Sandi Patty

Let's go for the polar opposites with this one. About the only similarity to this story and the Anthony Anderson story is that they both happened ridiculously early in the morning.

In order to welcome conference guests to Chicago, I was to sing a couple of Blues Brothers tunes along with my partner, Jim Bina, at 7 or 8 AM for the National Association of Electrical Distributors conference, being held at the downtown Sheraton in Chicago. If that isn't strange enough I had to follow a performance of the Star-Spangled Banner by Christian recording mega-star, Sandi Patty.

This was not too soon after the 9/11 attacks and Sandi was making BANK singing her rousing version of the song most everywhere. I still can't quite fathom the oddity of singing "Soul Man" or "Sweet Home Chicago" immediately after Sandi Patty singing the National Anthem. In a sense, she was MY opening act. Hmmm, never thought about it like that before. Heh heh heh.

I'd LOVE to have some killer stories about how Sandi was a total diva-bitch who wreaked havoc backstage, or a tale of toking on some mondo weed she'd scored on a recent trip to Amsterdam. Heck I'd even enjoy having some torrid rambling about a wild sexcapade and hedonistic orgy we all enjoyed in her dressing room. Of course, I can't lay claim to any of these types of reminiscences.

Sandi Patty was a charming and lovely woman. She was extremely kind and friendly to everyone and was a joy to work with. Her voice was powerful and clear and most beautiful to listen to as it filled the room. She had nothing but kind things to say about my performance and we shared some similar horror stories from years on the road. We both laughed at how bizarre the juxtaposition of her act with mine was, but it all seemed to make more sense to her since I'm quite confident she made about a million times more cash than I did that day.

In all the show went well and I enjoyed the day. However there were a few other noteworthy things to mention about that particular show.

Also in attendance was Hall of Fame NFL coach, Don Shula (I'll relay that story another time) and later in the day, at the same hotel (for a different function), President Bush (NOT the original, the sequel) was arriving to deliver a rousing speech, presumably about chuckling, smirking, and drooling or something of which he has expert knowledge. Most of the time I was there, in Blues Brothers attire, I was being cased by Secret Service agents who were sent there ahead of G-Dub to make sure nothing untoward was happening. Strangely, nobody minded the two men in black suits, sunglasses, and hats. Strange days indeed.