Good Enough?
Last evening I was setting up for an outside gig at a lovely little downtown spot. It was a perfect August summers' eve in the Berkshires – clear, cool and filled with promise. I was kneeling amongst a scattering of coiled cables, percussion foot pedals, microphone stands, harmonicas, instrument cases and electronic gizmos, preparing to asign them all to their proper places when a well-coiffed, city-dressed woman of a certain age and social strata presented herself with her glittering jewelry and equally coiffed, tiny, yapping poodle on a string. A cloud of perfume enveloped them both.
“Are you going to play now?” she boldly queried with a nasal NYCity accent. I was taken aback. You gotta be kidding me, lady, does it look like I'm ready to play now? Do you think all this stuff is going to magically set itself up? My drummer, Samster, shot me a knowing look as he continued to set up his drums.
Not wanting to be a curmudgeonly jerk – which does come easily to me – I forced a smile and replied, “No, not yet. Soon, though. We're not scheduled to begin for another 25 minutes. I've still got lots of gear to set up.” I went back to my task.
“What do you play?” the woman continued, unphased. The poodle whined on its tether.
“Well,” I said, pointing to my guitar, banjo and cigar box guitars lined up on their stands behind me as I uncoiled microphone cables and attached them to their assigned inputs, “those are the instruments I'll be playing for you tonight, along with some harmonicas and percussion.”
I suppose I didn't adequately understand her question because she went on, “Is it any good?”
Huh? Is what any good? “Well, my guitar was handmade by a good local luthier and I really love it. I make the cigar box guitars myself . . . I think they're pretty good!” I laughed.
“No, the music you play. Is it any good?” she pushed a little further. The poodle, too, was growing impatient and whined louder.
I might as well have been dialoging with that quivering, bejeweled poodle on a string. I thought, “Ah, now I get it - If I play what you like, you'll stay, if I don't, you won't.” Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake.
“Well, we play a LOT of different styles from reggae to blues and calypso to folk...lots of it I wrote, too!” I replied as pleasantly as I could while I continued to set up my gear, hoping she and her anxious sidekick would just go away.
“Yes, but is it any good?” This woman was a pit bull. I'm not fond of that breed as a whole.
My irritable curmudgeon had begun to awaken. I wanted to say, “Look, lady, 'good' is simply a value judgement. What's good for one may not be good for another. Why don't you quit bugging me, walk away, and let me finish setting up so we can actually PLAY SOME MUSIC. Then see for yourself whether it's 'good enough' for you, eh?”
But I didn't.
“Well,” I said, putting on my best Mr. Manners smile and tone, “Even if you don't think what we play is any good, I think you will certainly find it interesting. Ain't nothin' like it around, of that I'm sure! Why don't you find a good seat – they're all free! - and make the decision for yourself whether you like our music or not. We'll kick it off in around 15 minutes or so. I'm guessing you'll find like most folks do, we're pretty good.”
She and her pooch returned to her gaggle of friends and they chatted animatedly, occasionally pointing to the stage, until we kicked off the first cheerful notes to “Digby” a Bahaman calypso tune. I looked over – she and her friends were up dancing and clapping. And they kept it up for most of our show that evening! Upon finishing, my newest fan approached me and asked for a card. And she bought two CDs and tossed a tip into our suitcase!
I'm guessing that we must have been “good enough"!