The house last night was ready to party: there were young seniors, middle aged hipsters, young hotties across the gender spectrum dressed to kill as well as a few NYC transplants cruising the upstate scene for good food and good times. Believe it or not, Jerry Nadler - yes that Jerry Nadler, chair of the House Judiciary Committee - made an appearance, too but the place was too hoppin' for him to get a table about 10 pm so he moved on. We held the dinner crowd for an extra 90 minutes by tapping into their energy and playing wildly. During the first break we schmoozed some to get better acquainted with the crowd and they were digging it all. To be sure, it had been a stunning autumn day in the country. It was art festival day in Millerton, too and the fall colors were at their peak. All of which contributed to a collection of strangers and friends ready to party hearty. Not obnoxiously - like a crew of Anglophone freshman on their first drinking excursion in Montreal (not pretty). More like a sophisticated collection of good souls spread across the generations who were ready to let the good times roll with open hearts.
The second set, after the dinner crowd split, was equally engaged. They were younger, 20 somethings showing up after supper for drinks and who knows what? They, too, gave our songs shape and form. They loved the extended guitar solos John shared with them: they hollered and cheered, they clapped along to the funky rhythm and bought the band drinks. By the end or round two we were certain it had already been a good night so we gave them my take on "Sweet Jane." I usually play it straight, emphasizing the tenderness of St. Lou Reed's wild lyrics, but the mood was too buzzed for subtlety. So, like Tina Turner used to say about "Proud Mary," "we'll do it NICE... and ROUGH!" And we did. (At midnight, when we were packing up, the bartender looked over at us, smiled and put on HER version of "Sweet Jane" in gratitude - she even through in "Walk on the Wild Side," too.) We closed out the night with our take on Willie Dixon's "Spoonful" and John Hiatt's "And It Feels Like Rain." Raucous followed by sultry. A sweet way to bring in all home.
When we started, it felt right. The first tune was strong with a hint of reserve as we hadn't played as a band for over a month. I flubbed a few riffs on the second reggae tune and felt rattled. But by the time we moved into a jazz blues take on "Somebody to Love," and followed it up with Bruce Cockburn's spacey, mystical, psychedelic spiritual "Star Wheels," we were hitting the mark and the crowd was feeling the groove. It just got better and better as the night unfolded.
I’m learning to sit with not knowing.
When I don't see where its going
Cool my heels and start slowing
I am learning to sit with not knowing
I'm learning to sit with what’s next
What if and my best guess
Be kinder when it’s a process
I'm learning to live with what’s next
Here's a clear space I've chosen
Where the denseness of this world opens
Where there's something holding steady and true
Regardless of me or you
I’m learning live with the high stakes
Befriending my mistakes
Lay my hand where my heart aches
I’m learning live with the high stakes
I'm learning to live with what takes time
No ribbon across some finish line
Stop feeling I'm always a day behind
I'm learning to live with what takes time
I’m learning to sit with not knowing.
When I don't see where its going
Cool my heels and start slowing
I am learning to sit with not knowing
May the mystery continue to awaken me this day...
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