As a sophomore in high school I was persuaded by a charismatic senior to join the school's all male acapella group, the Troubadours. An uninspired name considering the rich tradition of musical puns for choral collectives (The Acafellas, Nothing But Treble, The Clef Hangers, etc). It was essentially just men's chorus, but one of the perks was the monthly off-campus "touring" where we'd visit nearby middle schools to impress them with our vocal prowess and persuade them to enroll in our school ("yes.. you too could be this cool!"). A few girls would make eyes at us. On a couple occasions, a member of faculty. More often than not, some of the boys would shout unpleasant nouns across the lot as we boarded our bus home.

The most ridiculous outing was the time we were hired by a senior women's group for some fancy annual luncheon event. We were told to plan a 90 minute set of "charming background music". We spent a month rehearsing old-timey numbers: jazz standards, a couple low tempo doo-wop ditties. Non stop nostalgia. But on the day there was some miscommunication. We came out in our blazers and ties, expecting to set up in a corner but were brought to the center of the room. The attendees paused conversations to listen to our opener, a rehearsed gimmick: we'd do a few bars of Latin mass and break into Gershwin. (No they didn't!). The central problem was that the emcee disappeared and no one spoke up to encourage guests to continue eating, drinking, and talking among themselves. And so it became very clear by the fifth song the guests were losing patience, visibly upset we were still singing. An exaggerated whisper at one table: "How long is this gonna take??"  

So I was less than confident for the first solo number (mine, thanks.) A semi-choreographed flirty sideshow of Night and Day by Cole Porter. Tired, ancient eyes melted any mojo, painted pursed lips and perturbed pouts all around. Zero swagger and ill-timed, cringeworthy croons: "And this torment won't be throooough.. til you let me spend my life making loooove to youuu... day and niiiight... night and daaaay..".  The applause was soft. And short. Someone in our group finally spoke up and said we were going to take a quick break. We returned 20 minutes later and gathered in the corner near an empty table. We sang If I Didn't Care by The Ink Spots and an odd list of mostly religious hymns the remainder of the set, a sort of self-imposed penance I suppose. 


Sometimes you have to pivot. We are grateful for all your support - and to those who have kindly suggested mixing up the setlist here at OAKLAND YARD. Some have encouraged us to increase our market and pantry offerings. The main request after this email was for us to put our inventory up online (with pictures, please!). Well, we listened - and while we'll still offer our "somm service", curating cases and recommending bottles based on taste and preferences... for those who want to go their own way, our ONLINE SHOP will be up this week. ("How long is this gonna take??") We'll be adding more bottles and photos daily, but you can start browsing and selecting your own bottles right away. Thanks in advance for your patience and support as we work out the kinks, and find some way to keep the song alive.

With gratitude,

Daniel