My First Experience As A Solo Acoustic Musician, Part 4
Okay, Here We Go
It’s an old saying, “Never say ‘never.’” Often it’s used as a warning after you’ve made some compelling declaration. I don’t know when I began following the advice, but I’m a “Never say ‘never’” guy. I don’t remember learning it the hard way, but I’ve come to believe that unlikely things happen. More often than not, they’re valuable learning experiences.
But there are things I didn’t think would happen, dreams I thought I’d never see. And not only have I had some come true, I’ve written about them, hoping they might help someone, inspire someone, or at least provide a little entertainment.
I don’t think I said I’d never front a band as a singer or sing solo with an acoustic guitar. I remember being with a friend once, seeing a guy on the street with a guitar and singing horribly. I turned to my buddy as we winced at the guy’s “performance.”
“I’ve always kind of wanted to do that, but that’s exactly why I probably never will.”
“Why’s that?”
“Pride.”
It was a conversation with my friend Brett eleven years ago. Brett’s one of the two bandmates who encouraged me to sing at band practice. That subsequently led me to play the guitar and sing to a crowd of onlookers, music fans, neighbors, and friends. I never said “never,” but I didn’t think it would happen.
As the day grew closer, I grew more comfortable and confident. I had enough material for more than an hour if necessary. I had my equipment checklist and my iPad ready with my setlist.
Some things had been a little weird to start. The Porchfest organization’s website wanted each performer to submit a bio, photo, website, and other info for promoting the event. The bio was easy, but a promotional picture was another thing, and I hadn’t yet considered establishing a website.
Fortunately, I had two photographers lined up. Always have a backup- backup guitar, backup amp, backup photographer. My first photographer had to cancel due to an emergency, and I didn’t have much time.
My brother-in-law, Jodie, is an artist. He’s an outstanding painter (he has not just one but two upcoming gallery exhibits) and photographs his work regularly. He jumped at the chance to do a photo shoot.
I was visiting my sister and Jodie, and we discussed it briefly. Jodie disappeared for what I thought was a smoke outside or a phone call. After about fifteen minutes, he returned with a camera and a huge smile.
“Ready?”
Though quickly prepared, this was no off-the-cuff photo shoot. We went to the attic, where he had lights and equipment set up. As a visual artist, he ensured the lighting was proper, the shadows correctly augmented the natural and artificial light, and angles were considered for the intended effect.
When I’d signed up for the Porchfest, my wife had something on her calendar already, but we got dates confused, and she asked about going. I’d be okay with a few friends there, but I asked my wife, and my sister, who lives close to the event, not to come. I was going to be nervous, being this was my first gig.
They’d both be very different as audience members. My sister would be the one to tell everyone, “That’s my little brother up there.” I imagined my wife and daughter laying low, maybe not even listening, but being there as moral support.
My sister called the day before, wishing me good luck. She said her daughter and my other sister had convinced her to wait until another time, and I’d already convinced myself there would be another time. At this point, I was about as ready as ever.
Beth and I both watched Sunday’s weather forecast change each day it drew closer. Though it was a ran or shine event, poor weather would be difficult to play through. The hour-by-hour forecast showed thunderstorms probable at some point, but precisely when seemed to change hour-by-hour.
The day of the Porchfest had finally arrived. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The forecast had changed once more to indicate a gorgeous summer day with no chance of rain until evening.
I took the dogs to run at the park, as I do most Sunday mornings. I hadn’t considered before how relaxing it is to watch them run around while I chat with God (and my wife goes to church). I had one simple request to make the day go well for everyone.
I wasn’t sure what the day would hold, but I was finally confident. I was prepared as I could be, and ready to put on the show. After all, there was still no way I could live with myself if I failed all those who cheered me on; especially my Porchfest host, Beth, after having put so much blind faith in me.
Thanks for reading! Yes, Part 5 is coming soon, and finally gets to the gig. But there’s so much more to read on Medium, especially if you subscribe (using my link, of course.) Without your subscription, you might not find the great writers I follow, like MarkfromBoston, Scot Butwell, Mike Butler, The Sturg, Scott Younkin, Andrew Gaertner, Emile R., Carolyn McBride, Suzanne Pisano, Reece Reid, Jameson Steward, Lu Skerdoo, KiKi Walter, Scot Butwell, Rodrigo S-C, Judy Derby BSc., Adrienne Beaumont, David Perlmutter, David Rudder
If you don't want to subscribe right now you can still get an email each time I publish by clicking the little envelope on your right.
