The last couple of days, I have battled to get my voice back to where it was before I got sick. Thursday morning I stared at an organic lemonade tent and watched people shuffle down the street. Anaheim Farmer’s Market. The sound system was depressing, and my voice couldn’t wake up fast enough. Graham and I fought through half the set to try and get things right and finally gave up. The next half of the set was instrumental. Nobody seemed to care. A young couple stopped to listen for a song or two and moved on with the Orange County breeze. At the end of our set, I promised for a better set next Thursday (we’re performing again). We’ll use our sound system, and my voice will be better.
We packed up and drove to Huntington Beach. Parked. Walked down the pier. Wondered what we were doing with our lives. The ocean sound dragged us far out. We ended up at Ruby’s at the end of the pier, so we ate. Douchebags seemed to be everywhere. We decided to talk shit because it made us laugh. We finished eating, and we were totally aimless. We had nowhere to go. We were down and out. We were alone with our lame attitudes. My friend Jason called. He lived down the street, so we went to his house and watched Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Look Back”. I laid on the couch and pondered how my voice would sound at that night’s show. I closed my eyes and tried to forget about it. Home came to mind. My girlfriend’s smile danced inside my brain. What was I doing with my life? Jason was the best person we could’ve hung out with. He’s the most positive guy I know, and I love his humor. He called his friends and told them to come out to the show.
Graham and I took off to the venue. As we pulled up, we realized it was inside a run-down strip mall. There was a dry cleaners next to the venue that spelled the word environmentally, “environmenmentally”. Double the men. The first band was setting up when we strolled into the Blue Cafe, and we found out it was their first show. That was a good thing… for them. Every single friend/family member/co-worker came out to see the show. The sound guy was impressive. For a first show, this band sounded good. There was hope. The staff was friendly, and as we set up on stage, I was beginning to feel good again. We dialed in the sound pretty quickly and played the set. We sounded great. It felt redeeming. We sold a few CD’s. I was ecstatic. We bowed down to the sound man for the best sound we’ve had in a very long time.
We headed back to Jason’s house, and we had a full-fledged jam session in his room with a bass, guitar, Rachel’s bracelet, beer cans and pens… anything that made sound. It was a fucking blast. Thursday night reminded me why I do what I love and why I love what I do. When you have the opportunity to connect with a few friends and a few people at the show through music, it’s life-changing.
So here we are paying our dues… living the dream.
