LIVE MUSIC

I’ve always liked live concerts even though the last few have been painfully intense. It’s not that I don’t like loud music but I’ve discovered a crowd whose preference is more about sensory experience and less about music; masochists with rhythm. But I took a chance last night and sometimes you get exactly what you hoped for.  Meijer Garden is a great, small, outdoor venue in Grand Rapids, Michigan. You bring your own lawn chair, cooler, even dinner. Then you sit in the grass with maybe a couple of thousand sweet, music savvy, politically correct, most civilized people anywhere. Amos Lee; great concert. 

Lee is a youngish-looking, uninhibited, 40-someting who handles country ballads, New Orleans funk, soul, rock & folk scores with a great feel. He had a big band, horns and two keyboards but then the range of his play list required it. In the middle of the show, the band took a break and he did a one man show for 5 or 6 numbers. That was so cool. Think of the sound spectrum as a grocery sack packed full with samples of every food in the store, no space for even a grape, that is what their sound was like. Then it was just Lee and his guitar, clean, clear, simply elegant. 

When the band came back they went with fewer lyrics and more driving stuff that had everyone on their feet. I can’t remember when I’ve seen so many Dutchmen shaking booty like that. I was next to the isle which was full of people. Grand Rapids folks are usually too proper to stand in the isle but there you are. Two women were beside me, one tall and blond, the other short, brunette, both happy as great music and two beers can make you. In the break between songs I felt an arm go around me; I was getting a hug. I looked down at the little brunette who was all smiles. I asked, “How you doing?” She said she was fine and before we stopped, we were old friends. Judy is choir director at Forrest Hills High School. Music is her life and she can’t help herself. Turns out we know some of the same people and like the same things. She has reservations about retiring and asked if I had any regrets; if I had any advice. Wow: someone actually asking me for advice, about something more weighty than where to get a good taco. All I could share was a disclaimer about my gypsy life style and that she should honor her fears but muster some courage for the sake of balance. I told her, “No, I have no regrets.” I reminded her that if you don’t like speed bumps, go sit in an easy chair. My plan is to try, have a go at whatever it is you think you want to do; if you fall down, get back up. She thanked me, said she really needed to hear that. When the encore unfolded with a long fade and people started collecting their chairs, she gave me another hug, told me to say hello for her to Cerise and Connie when I see them but I said she would see them before I do. After the fact, on the drive back home, I thought of better words than the ones I had shared. I’d have told her that I don’t pray for a life full of Happy or a life full of Peaceful, I just want a life that’s full.  

This morning I’m drinking coffee at Coffee Grounds in Grand Haven. It rained early, still cloudy but Washington Street is full of families and college kids. Boats are making their way up and down the channel, to and from the big lake. I haven’t been out there yet but they are building sand castles where wet sand meets the dry and it’s just about time for chicken salad sandwiches and fruit to start coming out of coolers. I’ll get fresh blueberries this afternoon, probably 3 cases (36 lbs.), catch a movie tonight and be on the road early in the morning.