Making Music

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Spent my evening yesterday with people making music. An open mic, welcome to all comers, and they came. The evening is hosted by a friend which is what gave me my initial boost of courage several months back. I’m not real sure why I needed it. Sixty years ago, when I first picked up the guitar, I had a trio and we’d play for anyone at the drop of a hat. I guess as the years wore on, I learned how much I didn’t know, and that began to give me pause. These days, in the twilight of my life, my nerves twitch when I play for strangers.

But a friend came to listen last night, and I’ve met some of the other musicians and it’s feeling pretty collegial these days. I made mistakes, primarily of my own doing, I’d have to say, not enough practice or experience playing out in the open. My practice room is quiet, the club is full of life. The non-musician part of my brain, which is a considerable portion apparently, wants to hear what’s going on, and distracts the portion that’s trying to play and sing. Luckily, it’s not life nor death, and I think I can get the hang of it because it’s fun, and it’s definitely not personal.

All in all, when I finish my little offering, I sit with a beer in the company of the friends who choose to come, and we listen to others make their music. As I do, I think how nice it is to live in a world full of musicians, players, people who like to pick and sing for their friends, family, and even strangers. It’s comforting. And I appreciate the professionals, like my friend, Bo, who gives his time and encouragement to those certainly less gifted and always has a kind word for all who grace the stage.

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