It Ain’t Pretty, But It’s Rock and Roll!

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So, a million years ago before I got married and became a Floridian, I used to gig.

Gig=playing music, not like a speaking gig. Back in St. Louis, I had a night or two per month where I’d grab the six string and an amp and sit on the patio of a winery or bar, playing sub-par versions of songs by Johnny Cash, Springsteen, Jimmy Buffett, all the stuff people like to sing along with.


Then, I stopped playing. For years.

There’s this thing about how much music helps one’s brain continue to function at a high capacity. I want this kind of brain. And I want to have a healthy, positive hobby that might benefit other parts of my life. Rather than dream up a new hobby, I removed my Breedlove from it’s case, slapped on some new strings and started playing.

My voice was beyond rusty, my fingers were as soft as a baby’s butt and I had no idea if I’d be able to get back in the groove. But, determination wins. Over the last few months, my voice has gotten stronger than ever, my mental library of songs has expanded and I think I’m ready again.

Last night, I went out to an open mic. Nice little stage set up, but they barely had an amp, no guitar cords to plug into said amp and a single mic that had to pick up both vocals and instrument. Not ideal. Not at all. photo

But, after years of speaking, I’ve had these kinds of issues before; mics not working, stage set up all funky, less than decent sound. What do we do in these situations? The show must go on.

And, like anything else, the fear of something going wrong is usually a lot worse than the event itself. There’s my thought for the day: be brave and the worries and fears are usually less than you imagined.

As these gigs start happening more, I’ll keep you updated. C’mon out…we’ll have some fun!

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