I did a lot of crazy stuff when I was a younger musician. Super crazy. I did everything from sneaking my records into Jeff Tweedy’s car, to dissing the Dean of my College at graduation in the interest of shaking hands with Buddy Guy backstage…long story
Before I understood the consequences of being bold, I was a lot bolder. Yeah, I was also a lot more foolish, but bold nonetheless. I suppose I could call myself “older and wiser” now, but honestly: I sometimes miss the old daring Emily.
On Friday, I resurrected her.
Back in my fearless days, I had a rule with myself: “if you write a song the day of the show, you have to play it that night., no matter how good it is or how many mistakes you make.” God, I used to do it all the time. For whatever reason, I thought there was magic in doing that. I haven’t done it in years.
But Friday, I got my chance again. I had a big show at the Sullivan Theatre in Rockford, opening the night for my dear friends Starlite Radio. A few hours before the show started, I penned a new tune. I barely knew how it went. Still, I played it for a crowd of 150 attentive listeners. It was terrifying.
And incredible. The crowd felt the magic and roared when it finished. It was by far everyone’s favorite.
This week’s moral? Be foolish sometimes. Just because we get older and learn the impact of falling on our face, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take the risk. Magic comes when we take chances, and I’m glad I took mine this week.
After my set was finished on Friday, I got to sing a few songs with the band. I haven’t felt so content in weeks. That’s the payoff for dauntless courage. Reader, may you have your own crazy, bold week. See you next Sunday. –Em