Elizabeth Weintraub • Sacramento Short Sale Agent • Land Park

Watching the performances of three outstanding musicians at Mondavi Center last night was a little bit like choosing dessert -- I may love creme brulee, cherry cheesecake and Haagen Dazs Rocky Road, but I don't necessarily want all three on my plate at one time. Mondavi presented Guitar Blues, an American Heritage Series event.

First up on the playbill was Ruthie Foster, a dynamite blues and gospel singer / guitarist from Texas. Beautiful, soul-searching vocals, touched by an angel and fuel powered by a rocket engine, Ruthie was the cherry cheesecake, every bite delightful, that if left to my own devices would make me want to eat the entire cake. It's no wonder Ruthie won the Austin Music Award for Best Female Vocalist in 2008.

Next, out meandered Jorma Kaukonen, appearing confused. He was interviewed by the Sac Bee last week. When asked about the 1960s -- he was a founding member of Jefferson Airplane -- he appeared reluctant to talk about those years, and instead dismissed that discussion by noting the 1960s was a long time ago. I snorted to my husband when I read that, "Oh, criminy, it was only a few decades ago." My husband replied, "Yeah, I wasn't born yet."

I was blown away by his finger-picking, guitar-singing style and masterful command of his instrument. He was definitely the creme brulee. Jorma wore faded jeans, boots, a black turtleneck and sport coat. He had a neatly trimmed beard, white hair and sported perfectly positioned glasses. He's 68. But hearing him sing tune after tune about "baby come back," seemed a bit silly for such a serious musician at his age. Musicians such as Kris Kristofferson or Willie Nelson can pull off those types of numbers, but when Jorma sang, he may as well been talking about a baby on all fours crawling out of reach instead of a woman. Maybe his great grandchild. It seemed out of character and was lacking the pain, the lust and the passion.

But then the Robben Ford band hit the stage. This was the Haagen Dazs Rocky Road treat that woke up the audience. I could eat the entire container of ice cream and not feel the least bit guilty. One of his numbers was about begging a woman to let him come back. I can bet you that every woman in that Davis audience over the age of 40 thought to themselves, "Hey, if she doesn't want you, come sit over here."

The guy in front of me stuck his fingers in his ears during Robben's tune, Supernatural. A finger in each ear. I thought about kicking the back of his chair but then decided that perhaps this guy just came to the show for the creme brulee. We all have our preferences in music.

Well, I must be off to take a listing in Tahoe Park today. Check out these musicians' web sites, though. I'll bet you'll like each of them.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming June 2009.

Photo: Mondavi Performing Arts Center in Davis, CA, Big Stock Photo

OK, I didn't really fall asleep, I just felt like I was sleeping or perhaps wished I was sleeping, all snug and warm in the comforts of my own multi-cat infested bed instead of sitting at Mondavi Center in Davis to see the Punch Brothers. That's not to say the Punch Brothers are awful, because they have tons of talent, mountains of talent, Grammy-awarded talent bigger than the state of California, but they don't put on a spectacular show.

The musicians are Chris Thile (from Nickel Creek) who plays mandolin; Gabe Witcher, fiddle; Chris Eldridge, guitar; Noam Pikelny, banjo; and Paul Kowert, bass. My husband and I were discussing what kind of person plays the mandolin but not guitar. Sure, you say, a fiddle is a small instrument, too, but it's loaded with more testosterone. That long bow could do double duty as a saber sword. Think Star Wars.

For me, it was like watching Tom Hanks in the movie "Big" chomping down on a miniature ear of corn at the salad bar. It seems out of proportion. Made me wonder how come Rod Stewart went downhill after Maggie May? I'll tell you why, because Do Ya Think I'm Sexy and Hot Legs ruined everything for Rod Stewart.

Punch Brothers played a four-movement chamber suite called "The Blind Leaving the Blind." My husband says it was written during Thile's turbulent divorce. It was agony. Depressing. Punctuated by poly rhythms that made me want to punch somebody. It was also 43-minutes long.

Their first number was most likely the best, followed by Ophelia, by The Band, for second place. Let's just say that Ophelia was never my favorite take on that '70s album by The Band: Northern Lights - Southern Cross. It's mostly loud screaming into the mike. Sort of disrupts the whole tempo of the set.

I might have enjoyed the concert more if I had been sitting closer to the stage instead of the nose-bleed section, or perhaps didn't have a belly full of filet mignon, spring asparagus and scalloped potatoes. We had been planning to go out for dinner on Valentine's Day, but I had been out showing homes in East Sacramento all afternoon and didn't feel like fighting the swarming crowds in downtown Sacramento after the 2009 Amden Tour of California bicycle race. So, we ordered take-out from the Riverside Clubhouse in Land Park and dined by candlelight at home.

Now, if I was listening to the Punch Brothers while I was working out on the elliptical or cleaning house, I would thoroughly enjoy the music -- what's not to like about bluegrass -- but watching them in concert, well, I would have rather been giving my cat a bath.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming soon to a bookstore near you.

Photo: Mandolin, Big Stock Photo

My husband and I had the pleasure last Wednesday of attending the Mavis Staples show at the Mondavi Center in Davis, California. If you're reading this and you're not from around here -- here being Sacramento -- you are in for a treat if Mavis Staples comes to your town. Some of you of a certain age will remember the Staple Singers from the 1950s and 1960s, and already know what a treasure, a blessed honor it is to hear Mavis belt out her heart.

She's part soul (R&B), part rock-and-roll and part gospel. I am particularly attracted to her music because her roots in the Civil Rights movement remain strong. She was a friend to Dr. Martin Luther King, for crying out loud, and performed concerts for him; she's a walking American icon and integral to history in America.

Mavis opened her first show in 2009 in Davis, California, with "For What It's Worth," a 1967 song written by Stephen Stills and performed back then by the Buffalo Springfield. You know how it goes: "Something's happening here, what it is ain't exactly clear." She followed with "Down in Mississippi," and hearing those sultry Southern blues had me believing she was actually born in Mississippi. But I believe she was born July 10, 1939 in Chicago. Her father, "Pop" Staples, on the other hand, was born in Mississippi.

About halfway through the show, Mavis removed her shoes. It must have been difficult for a woman of her age and stature to stand in high heels for such a long time; I know I couldn't do it. She just laughed and said she felt at home on that stage, so it was OK to kick off those heels, and it was certainly OK with the audience. We were all mesmerized by her performance.

Then she plunged into her hit from the early 1970s, "Respect Yourself." From my perspective, it seemed a bit out of place, delivering that message to the mostly white, over 40, liberal crowd at Mondavi Wednesday night. But all of us need to remember that message at various points in our lives. In the middle of that number, Mavis spelled out the word r-e-s-p-e-c-t and then chuckled, "Oh, no, I ain't gonna mess with Aretha," as though Aretha Franklin might have been sitting in the audience and ready to grab the microphone away from her. But I know what she means, and I suspect you do, too.

Mavis brought along her sister, Yvonne Staples, for back-up along with Donny Gerrard and Chavonne Morris on background vocals. Three other guys rounded out the band: Rick Holmstrom on lead guitar, Jeff Turmes on bass and Stephen Hodges on drums. The most spectacular and talented by far absolutely was Rick Holmstrom. Holmstrom made his guitar sing on a level comparable to Jimi Hendrix. It blew me away.

One of my favorite protest songs of all time is "We Shall Overcome," and I would have traded the commission on my last two escrows to have heard her perform that song, but Mavis did one even better: "We Shall Not Be Moved." She talked about walking into a restaurant in the South in the 1960s with a group of friends and being ordered to leave. The waitress refused to serve them. But they locked arms and began to sing We Shall Not Be Moved when the police arrested them. It put a lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes when the familiar refrain filled the Center for Performing Arts at Mondavi. Probably because these aren't just stories to me.

Did you know that the Staple Singers were inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1999? They were called "God's greatest hit-makers." One of the encore numbers had the audience standing, clapping and singing along to "I'll Take You There." It's one of those feel-good numbers that resonates.

Just like Mavis Staples. She crawls under your skin, ever so delicately, and reminds you that we're all part of the same world and responsible for passing on that message. Don't ever give up the fight for equality and human rights.



The Short Sale Savior, coming to a bookstore near you in February.

Photo: Mondavi Center for Performing Arts in Davis, CA by Big Stock Photo