July 2nd, 2019 marked the beginning of a two-week romp through the northeast United States (and eastern Canada) chasing Phish around and catching up with likeminded friends, with the ultimate destination being a visit with my family in Moncton.

The first stop was Saratoga Springs, New York, which was a pretty darn fine start to the journey if you ask me.  Saratoga Springs is just such a pretty little town rife with history, attractions, and beautiful brick buildings around every corner (and behind every tree); it’s the site of the first equine racing track in America (it’s still there), home to what was once the largest hotel in the world in the Grand Union (it’s now a supermarket, also called Grand Union which apparently is just a coincidence*), birthplace of the unfortunate author of the harrowing true tale Twelve Years a Slave, and not only where the potato chip was invented (a fact that is oft reported in these missives) but also reputed to be where the club sandwich was first devised**.

My goodness, who could ask for anything more?

For those that do, Saratoga Springs also has a really cool amphitheatre that is plunked in the middle of a forested state park and surrounded by natural springs that spout forth healing groundwater, and this is where Phish began to play, beginning at about 8pm.

They opened with Cathy’s Clown by The Everly Brothers…a first-timer and a song I’m pretty confident will never be played by them again (not that it wasn’t good).  It made me wonder…who picked this particular song, and why?  And moreover, at what point did they run the idea by the rest of the band, and finally, when did they learn it?  As a semi-amateur performer myself I can suggest two musical truths: 1) it generally takes little-to-no time at all to learn an old three-chord rock & roll song, and 2) however simple a song may be a band should probably go over it a few times before stepping in front of a festival crowd (and a forest of microphone stands).  

So, was it just an hour before going onstage or was the song suggested a week earlier?  Or maybe the night before?  Either way, kudos to the band for making the effort in a climate where most bands don’t bother learning more than twenty-five of their own songs for an entire tour.

Anyway, once they wrapped up Cathy’s Clown they stuck to more familiar material for the rest of the night and delivered an exceptional show which by this time crosses my memory as a bit of a blur.  I recall a couple of people jumped onstage during the second set (in separate incidents), a set that the band closed with one of my faves in Harry Hood.

At the end of the night m’lady and I walked through the darkened park to our Inn at Saratoga where we started with social drinks on the welcoming front porch and ended in our friend’s room in the freestanding cottage that sat next to (but was part of) the inn.  The night eventually got a little late - through no fault of our own - but m’lady and I pulled the plug well before daylight, which was a pretty great idea but again, not really our call. 

*As if.

**Why every menu in town doesn’t offer a club sandwich with a side of Saratoga chips (as they call them) as the local special is both beyond my comprehension and why I’ve never ordered it.

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