It’s March. That means it’s been a full year since we started having to make some hard decisions, canceling performances, cutting my open mics. One year ago today I wrote a Journal entry encouraging everyone to be cautious and to assure everyone that WE were being careful. We’d already been talking a lot about washing hands and keeping your distance at shows. Hell, in a NORMAL flu season we verge on paranoia because getting sick makes singing and playing kind of hard – and that’s our bread and butter – or at least shrimp, grits and fine tea…
A week later I was writing “we are cancelling our next several shows and I am cancelling my open mics till April... I think it’d be wise to be smart, even if it appears foolish, in order not to have been an idiot.”
I got some encouragement. I got some pushback. I made some people really angry. Others were relieved. A week after THAT and it seemed like a lot more people were on the same page.
A year ago this month I hugged the last person outside of my “pod” in a parking lot in Silver Spring. We had our last recording session with someone outside our pod. We took a walk and saw some baby snakes.
By the end of the month we were receiving cancelations out to the summer and had begun our weekly “Live from the Lair”. I’d begun reading children’s stories daily at 6pm, but my patience for reading gave out after 50 books – long before the stories did. By the end of the month our first friend had died – not of COVID but as with so many of these things – in a world where health care was suddenly complicated by paranoia and misinformation.
By now several dozen friends have tested positive at some point, a dozen or so have been very, very sick, and a half dozen have died – and though we don’t seem to have any friends who’ve died directly from COVID-19 it FEELS connected that we should have so many deaths in our community, our open mic scene, our fanbase and friend base… today we’re saying farewell to a dear friend from the Boston scene – Hugh McGowan – as yet ANOTHER unforeseen tragedy strikes our little world.
Take nothing for granted. Not in a cynical way. In a beautiful way. Play in the snow. Play in the sun. But you know – protect yourself. Wear some mittens and some sunscreen and a mask. We’re worth it. |