Just a quick note to finish off the night:

I played a cover gig with the blues project I’m involved in this evening at a local bar. Normally, the most interesting people we get to play for are older women “getting down” enthusiastically on the dance floor after a few spirits. However, tonight was a little different. Amidst the usual cougar-ish dancers, there sat a mentally impaired gentleman. He wasn’t young and he came in for dinner with his mother. I’m not sure what sort of medical condition life had thrown his way, but he didn’t say much (he did enjoy going up to strangers at other tables to just stare at them, though). That is, until we started playing again… For a brief moment, as this man clapped, cheered, danced, and sang over our band, I remembered why music is such a gift to us all. I haven’t seen a look of such pure, uninhibited joy on someone’s face like this in quite sometime. After our set, I attempted to say “bye” to the man and thank him for being such an enthusiastic audience member, but he just walked by, wrapped up somewhere in his own world. The only way I could communicate with him was through the music we played. Spoken words didn’t get through, but guitars and drums did. I haven’t enjoyed playing music for someone that much in a long time, or ever. Thanks again to this mystery man for being such a good audience and for helping me remember that music should be a joyful, celebratory experience whenever possible.

-TB