Not Even Going To Say Anything...much

Instead of staying home, watching the big political fight, I listened on radio on the way to go to a possible playing opportunity.  Sort of open mic/jam.  Sande was there.

Not many people showed.  Someone didn't show so we became the feature, Sande and I.   I went there hoping to play.  The guy before us asked me to play on a couple.  I figure this cast situation has me at about 65% to 70% of my two-handed, harp player self.

Which reminds me, it is "SET foot", not "STEP foot".  Dan Rather screwed it up.  I blame him for the proliferation of the wrong wording.  I will not SET foot in this town again.

So I managed to play.  I need to practice so I can figure out what I am working with.   The cast thumb is where all my soul and muscle memory resides; the map to sound and nuance.

I have only one near term gig.  The usual suspects all out of town for a bit.  I play a private party with a guy I know.  I played with him before.  Mostly, if not all, covers.   He is good, but it is a type of stuff I rarely play, so it is a challenge.  With this cast it is bigger challenge than I would have expected. Probably easier to just wear one of those harmonica  racks, like Dylan.

The hand is a huge part of the sound these days.  Maybe I should go back to holding the mic and harp together when I play.  I'd rather not, though.  Tonight,  I could tell it sounded uninspired.  No one froze in their tracks and turned to see who or what was playing.  It was ok, just lacking the zip and surprise people are coming to expect.

I came home and found the debate on youtube.  I skipped some stuff, but caught most of it.  I like it best when it is low key.  There were a few moments like that.  I honestly thought I would cringe more.  I cringe at snarky smiles and smirks, and bickering.  I had the bar set low, in my mind.  So the debate was actually less obnoxious and painful than I expected.  I won't comment about which one seems scariest and most likely to smother a crying baby with a pillow.