The hotel I stayed in last night at Southfield, Michigan has free breakfasts. As I entered its dining area this morning, I exchanged glances with a guy sitting at a table drinking coffee. My first thought was, “Holy shit, that looks like Danny Schmidt“. If you’re the regular reader of SWT (Hi, Phillip), you know who Danny is.
So I get my orange juice and bowl of cereal (they were serving biscuits and gravy as the hot entree. For breakfast. Ugh), and sit at a table behind this fella about 15 feet away, this fella who looks like Danny Schmidt. As I eat breakfast I’m thinking: This guy has black hair, a scraggily, unshaven look, wears a brown hat, and wears casual clothes. Sorta like Danny. How can I find out? If it IS Danny, I’ll regret not going up and saying, “Hi, are you Danny Schmidt? I’m Jody Cairns. You know, Phillip’s brother.” And he’d either say “Fuck off” (this IS the Detroit area) or “You got to be fucking kidding me!” What to do, what to do… I mean, it’d be REALLY cool if it was him. Shit.
Well, I thought too long about it; he finished his coffee and left. I checked Danny’s website for his touring schedule, hoping he wasn’t in Michigan now, and he wasn’t; he’s in the U.K.
Normally I wouldn’t think of approaching anyone famous-ish (he’s an artist I respect. That’s “famous” in my book); I don’t care about them nor they about me. But in this case, he would know me. He sang a song for my daughter while doing an interview at Whole Wheat Radio. Maybe Phillip will post the MP3 some day.