NaBloPoMo Day Twenty-Seven: Kilby

I really, really meant to post a great and long description of yesterday's events on the day they all happened. But what can I say? I got caught up in the hustle. There is, however, a good story to be told, so I'm using it to detox from all the drama of today. Nothing solves a problem better than a digression.

The day began dismally, since it was drippy and rainy for the entire afternoon. The dripping and raining carried on through the evening. And then onto my shoulder and head for pretty much the entire set. Elan and I had a super good time, though. It was the coolest thing ever.

I guess I'd always thought that the first show at a venue is supposed to be nail-bitingly nerveracking. Like the worst degree of nervous you will ever get in your musical life. But I wasn't nervous until about five minutes before we got onstage. When we were waiting for the sound check, we sat onstage facing the empty Kilby garage and agreed that it was almost better that way. We had built a rig for all the percussion instruments Elan plays during any given set. It was made of a stool and some cinderblocks, with the microphone hanging precariously over it. There were various cups and Wendy's bags strewn behind our chairs, the remnants of our pre-show feast.

We played well. We had fun and I think/hope the audience did, too. As Elan and I were unloading his gear from my car, our smiles were lighting up the neighborhood. I told him we should do this for the rest of our lives.

And I mean, I've been thinking about that exact statement. I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life. I can see myself spending half the day on the road and the next half in a chaotic rush to get everything in check. I can see myself loading up a used Windstar with a mess of tied cables, microphones, hardshell guitar cases, and the numerous small percussion items. I think that that really is my future. If not for forever, for my youth. What better way to spend it?