Music has always been a huge part of my life. When I was a small child I would dance around the living room as my Dad’s reel to reel player. He played everything from Elton John to the William Tell Overture. In my early teens, I started attending live music shows with my friends. And never stopped. Not even during my pregnancy or early parenthood. There was one venue that had early all ages shows, at a local university. The Whole is still there but that particular era is long-gone. In the late 90s, early aughts, my friends would hold my infant son for me for a bit. That way I could catch a song or two from a favorite band before heading home, feeling restored. That all changed this year. My last live music show at a venue was seeing Canadian Andy Shauf at the Fine Line on March 5th. Then the pandemic hit.
Over the summer, I did see my friends’ duo perform on their front lawn, from a safe distance. But last Friday I headed out on a dark and stormy night to stand under a bridge. It was me with maybe two dozen other diehard and masked music fans. We bonded over brilliant solo performances from the incomparable John Saint-Pelvyn and the mesmerizing Paul Metzger. It lasted just over an hour but was a truly magical experience.
