Doesn't it just make you want to go jump in a puddle. . . Or sing?
I tried my hand at Broad Street's Open Mic Night again. I was getting nervous, and we headed on up to perform. I'm tuning my fiddle, taking a deep breath, waiting for the first chord, and as I start in on Jolene, I look up to see B sitting there--she had barely made it, but it made all the difference. I was calmer after I knew she was there, and I think I killed it. I've almost got my rendition of Jolene set.
We also did our Fast Car/Bad Romance Mash-up, and that is always crazy--it makes me feel more vulnerable than I like. But isn't that what music is supposed to do--get you out of your comfort zone? I did get a snide remark from the guy after us about using covers, but pooh, pooh, Mr. Whiny, tweeny, rocker voice.
The beat box flute was off the hook! My guitarist is leaving, so I am a little sad about it, but, hey, maybe I'll mix it up and throw in a little jazz soon. Or maybe I can get Cface to come visit and play for me. Or I can actually learn how to play all these songs myself. . . Who knows. . .
