It seems weird to write about something that is still going on. I usually about one-off events or thoughts I’ve had. I don’t have a lot of experience writing about something in which I’m currently involved.
But I was reflecting on my PokerStars days. It seemed like something extraordinary happened a couple of times a week, and I can remember thinking, “Man, when this is all over, I should write a book, or a blog, or something.” Of course, when it was all over, I’d forgotten half of the extraordinary things, and all of the details. I’m not making that mistake again.
Back in the Bay
Lisa and I moved back to the Bay Area in the summer of 2019. There were vital family reasons, but they aren’t relevant here. But the fact is that we were back after being away for most of 15 years. In those years, I kept thinking I’d end up in a band of some sort – after all, my stops included Asheville, NC and Nashville, TN, two music hotbeds. But somehow, it never clicked.
Shortly after I got back, I started picking with two lovely gentlemen in Alameda – Nick Khadder and Chris Quale. That’s a story in itself. Anyway, one thing led to another, and we started playing at a Berkeley restaurant called “Gather,” as the Alameda Mountain Ramblers. Which, if you’ve ever been to Alameda, California, you know what an absurdly great bluegrass band name that is. One of our regular players was my son, John Haupert, who wields a mean mandolin.
And man, the breakfasts we’d have afterwards were epic. Scrambled eggs, biscuits, roasted potatoes to die for. God, now I’m hungry.
Anyway, as will happen with people who have families and professions, sometimes one or more musicians wouldn’t be available. I ultimately created a rotating cast of musicians who would come to Gather and serenade the brunch-goers with bluegrass and adjacent music. It was a grand time – I was playing out with friends, getting a free breakfast, and getting paid for it. This last bit was vitally important so I could say, “Ya, I’m a semi-professional musician.”
Who’s that ringer?
I don’t remember all the details, but I recall that John and I were playing at Gather with mandolin/guitar wizard Mike Thompson. I said we were going to play a Norman Blake song, and a young woman in the front went, “Woo-hoo!” I mean, did you think I said, “Taylor Swift?” Norman Blake is an Americana hero, but he’s not a household name.
Shortly thereafter, I said, “We’re going to play this song, that was written by <songwriter’s name>.” Same woman says, “No – <this other person> wrote that song.”
Waaaaaait a minute. Is this some kind of secret audition/exam we’re doing?
Leah and Jeremy
At the set break, I asked Mike Thompson who these ringers were.
“Oh, do you not know them? That’s Leah Wollenberg and Jeremy Reinhard – she plays fiddle, he plays banjo, and they both sing.”
Obviously my first thought was to invite them to come up and sing one with us in the second set. Equally obviously, John panicked. John is a planner. I plan too, but when an opportunity such as this presents itself, I’m thinking, “What can go wrong?” John thinks, “What will go wrong?”
I also think, “If it goes wrong, at least we tried.”
They came up and sang a song with us. I don’t remember what it was, but what I do remember is that it sounded fine, and we all had a blast. Including John, despite his initial fears reservations. We made them stay for another song, which was also fun, and by then John was comfortable with the whole situation.
All I could think was, “Here we are, a guitar, mandolin, and bass player. And a banjo player and fiddler, both of whom sing, just wandered into our midst.”
I invited them to come and sit with us at our post-gig brunch. Maybe it was the roasted potatoes, but they were up for doing a gig together.
The next date on the books at Gather was November 11, 2023. We all showed up, as planned. What we didn’t plan was that both Leah and John were wearing merch from the Critical Role podcast, which is for Dungeons & Dragons (“D&D”) nerds.
They made an instant connection, and we had to drag them kicking and screaming back to the point that we were about to play a gig as a five-piece band, which we’d never done.
Honestly, though, my concern was misplaced. We retreated to a corner of the restaurant patio to run through a few tunes that could cause a hiccup (as compared to, say, Old Home Place or Gold Rush). We decided to try Ridge Road Gravel, a Norman Blake tune (Leah say, “Woo-hoo!”). I grabbed my phone halfway through…
That, folks, was pretty much it. Right then, I knew we had something magical. Also, with the alignment of the Critical Role merch, I instantly had the band name, like it or not.
Jesse on guitar
Not too long after that gig, Mike said, with regret, that he wouldn’t be able to be a regular member of the band. He has significant family obligations – obviously those are way more important than going out to pick with friends and getting paid tens of dollars to do it.
We totally understood, but we were also disappointed. Mike is a sweet guitar player and fantastic company. We found ourselves in the unusual spot of trying to find a bluegrass guitar player. Thing is, in the bluegrass world, you can’t swing a banjo by its neck without hitting a guitar player – usually you’re looking for another instrumentalist. But there we were.
We immediately thought of Jesse Poteralski, with whom we’d picked on a number of occasions. We pitched the idea to Jesse, and he came and played a gig with us at Gather. Again, mighta been the biscuits and roasted potatoes, but he said yes!
It was during Jesse’s tenure with us that we decided to audition for Vern’s Stage. Vern’s Stage is a special “amateurs only” stage at the California Bluegrass Association’s Father’s Day Festival.
We put together a video per the audition instructions, and submitted it. Then we waited.
One day, there was the email: “Vern’s Stage: congratulations!” I literally danced around the living room, and Lisa shrieked when I showed it to her.
The good news was that we had to put together a 35-minute set for Vern’s Stage, and had over six months to do it. The bad news was that Jesse decided to move to Grass Valley. This was more than a little ironic, because Grass Valley is where the Father’s Day Festival is. But it’s also 2.5 hours from the Bay Area, so it wasn’t practical for Jesse to be our guitar player.
We seemed to go through guitar players like Spinal Tap went through drummers. Though at least without the spontaneous combustion.
Back to where we started
The first name that popped into my head after Jesse bolted for the foothills was the very same guy who had invited me to pick when Lisa and I moved back to the Bay Area. Chris Quale. With Covid at its height, Chris and Nick Khadder graciously invited me to sit in their back yards and pick with them (once they confirmed that I was vaxed). Those firepit picking sessions were a huge bright spot in the darkness of the pandemic.
I asked Chris to go to coffee with me, and pitched the idea of him playing a gig with us at O’Riley’s in Haight, San Francisco after the first of the year. More irony: Chris is around professional bluegrass music, shows, and festivals all the time. That’s because his sons, Miles and Teo are half of Crying Uncle Bluegrass Band, a professional touring act. Chris acts as manager, booking agent, roadie, bus driver, chaperone, and band photographer. But he’s never gotten to be on stage.
We fixed that on January 5th, 2025.
We had a total blast. With professional sound support and a real full-size stage, we felt like real rock stars. And we played pretty good too – at least the sound engineer said we did well.
Chris simply said, “That was so fun. I’ve never played on a real stage.” It was high time he did, and yes, it was so fun.
Turning up the volume
Along with a few gigs at Armistice Brewing in Richmond, and the aforementioned O’Riley’s, we had three very cool gigs over the spring/summer.
We got to play on Peter Thompson’s bluegrass radio show on KALW in San Francisco, thanks to Leah’s connections. The magic of that gig was that Peter’s wife is Kathy Kallick – a California bluegrass legend, and the songwriter of Call Me a Taxi, which is one of our showcase pieces.
We didn’t know it, but when we played that song on the radio show, Kathy was standing right outside the studio, waiting her turn to go on. She gushed over our performance and gave us all hugs as we left. Coolest thing ever.
Our Vern’s Stage show at CBA was a big success. The whole family came up and camped, Elena went to “fiddle camp”, and we invited anybody we could find to eat tacos and burritos with us Saturday afternoon after our performance. Friends Shelly and Kevin brought their daughter Mina from Austin, Heather and Joe came out from San Jose – it was an amazing long weekend.
And honestly, none of this would have happened, except that our Vern’s Stage show gave everybody a great excuse to come out and party.
Our next big gig was at the Good Old Fashioned Bluegrass festival in Tres Piños. Unfortunately, Chris couldn’t be with us because he was on the road with Crying Uncle (it might have been France). Fortunately, critical emeritus Mike Thompson joined us and provided his usual sparkly playing.
Jeremy’s dad, Ray, was in the audience and got a great video.
What has been, and what will be…
There’s no telling where we’ll go from here. We’ve applied for some festivals, and are continuing to talk to various venues about gigs. I’m pretty sure there’s some excitement on the horizon, though.
The one thing I know is going to happen is that we’re having our band’s second birthday party (Chris: “That’s like 12 years in human time”) at Armistice in Richmond on December 7th, 2025. It should be quite the celebration. Then we’ll see what comes next.
But I’m writing this, as I mentioned at the top, to be sure I don’t forget these first two years. And also, to express my deepest appreciation to everybody who has supported this project. Not least, to Lisa, who has tolerated her living room being arranged into a rehearsal space on a regular basis, and has come to virtually every one of our gigs, to cheer and encourage.
I also need to thank both Jeremy and Leah’s parents, who invariably show up and support us. Every musician I know talks about the warm feeling they get when they see friends and family in the audience – it’s 100% true.
Don Bright, who we met through Tommy Angelo and Kathleen Gilligan, has been a huge supporter of the band, and has been roped into doing sound engineering at a bunch of gigs. Those of you who play in bands and have to do your own sound know what a hassle it is to split your mental energy and time between actually playing and trying to make the band sound good in the house. I can’t overstate how nice it is to see Don sitting in the audience, deciding if he needs to bring a mic up more. He should start a business called Bright Lights and Sound.
To Michelle (“Shelly”) Mussett for her t-shirt/poster design that blows away every single person who sees it.
If we accidentally make any profits from the t-shirt sales, the money is going to the ACLU.
Also, Shelly, thank you for dragging your family halfway across the country to support us at Father’s Day. And mostly, thank you for being the best daughter I never had.
To Brandi Hand, for doing social media stuff that is less appealing to me than going to the dentist. And for doing it well and keeping the band present in that bizarre world. Also for being a bright shining light in a universe that needs that desperately – you’re the best, Brandi.
To Nick Khadder, for making me welcome in his back yard and picking with me, starting in those waning days of the pandemic. And for his unflagging willingness to pick any time, anywhere. Nick, your smile and mandolin are two of the great blessings of my life.
To Mike Thompson and Jesse Poteralski: we don’t get here without your participation. I am proud and honored to pick with you any time, and if Chris has to be out on the road with the professional Quales, know that you two are our first calls.
A deep bow of gratitude goes to my son John Haupert, Leah Wollenberg, Jeremy Reinhard, and Chris Quale. Playing music with y’all is the best thing in my life that doesn’t involve hanging out with grandchild Elena. Whether we’re jamming in my living room or playing on a festival stage, the thought constantly in my head is, “It doesn’t get better than this.”
I’ve been in plenty of bands that were musically solid, but I had no particular attachment to the other musicians. With Critical Grass, I’ve made it a practice to serve a light meal at our house before every rehearsal. It gives me great joy to sit around a table with these people, eating pizza and salad. The community we have together is every bit as important as the music we make.
Speaking of community, if you’ve ever been at a Critical Grass show, thank you. I can’t speak for the other band members, but for me, the joy of having people come to watch us play is nearly as great as that of the actual playing. I am humbled and honored that someone would give their time and attention to our band. I can speak for the band when I say that the energy the audience brings makes us have more fun and play better. It’s a win for everybody.
If you want to join our merry band, spreading peace and joy through music, drop us a note at criticalgrass.ba@gmail.com to get on the email list. We’d be proud to have you on the campaign.
