“Would you do it again?” That was the question posed to Robert, Sue, and Glenn.
After all, we passed our first test. We worked our way through 18 or so tunes without any major gaffes. By the time we played our “encore” or “second” set, we were in a groove and really having fun. Both the Sunday manager and the owner of the Capitol Bowl were happy with the vibe and energy that we brought to the bowling alley.
One friend, however, pointed out that our song endings were a little dicey. “A little dicey” was somewhat complimentary or, alternatively, a gross understatement. Actually, we pretty much played along and hoped to end in the ballpark of on time or together. Rather than my usual “what do you expect from a talent-impaired guy like me?” response, I found a convenient cover in our lack of time to practice such details as song endings. “Well, that was only our second time through the entire set.”
“Would you do it again?” Robert and Sue both answered with, “We need to start practicing and keep up the momentum. How about next week?” Sue also muttered something about a chord sheet that has four bars and I play three or vice versa and getting the arrangements down. Robert’s response was similar but less specific, “Let’s get the set down pat.” Glenn simply said, “Sure.”
Commitment. Practice. Getting arrangements and a set down pat. Now that sounds like a lot of fun as well as a challenge. Let’s get going. We agreed to a time for our next practice.
Then the nagging little voice spoke up. “Not so fast. Don’t get too stoked. You’ve got to arrange a gig!”
Yeah, but that is just one more challenge. Haven’t we had that one before? And . . . .
After all, we passed our first test. We worked our way through 18 or so tunes without any major gaffes. By the time we played our “encore” or “second” set, we were in a groove and really having fun. Both the Sunday manager and the owner of the Capitol Bowl were happy with the vibe and energy that we brought to the bowling alley.
One friend, however, pointed out that our song endings were a little dicey. “A little dicey” was somewhat complimentary or, alternatively, a gross understatement. Actually, we pretty much played along and hoped to end in the ballpark of on time or together. Rather than my usual “what do you expect from a talent-impaired guy like me?” response, I found a convenient cover in our lack of time to practice such details as song endings. “Well, that was only our second time through the entire set.”
“Would you do it again?” Robert and Sue both answered with, “We need to start practicing and keep up the momentum. How about next week?” Sue also muttered something about a chord sheet that has four bars and I play three or vice versa and getting the arrangements down. Robert’s response was similar but less specific, “Let’s get the set down pat.” Glenn simply said, “Sure.”
Commitment. Practice. Getting arrangements and a set down pat. Now that sounds like a lot of fun as well as a challenge. Let’s get going. We agreed to a time for our next practice.
Then the nagging little voice spoke up. “Not so fast. Don’t get too stoked. You’ve got to arrange a gig!”
Yeah, but that is just one more challenge. Haven’t we had that one before? And . . . .