Whelp, the jig was up…. The landlord of the parking lot where I was keeping the van came by as I was getting dressed for my writer’s round at the Tin Roof on Broadway and told me that I needed to vacate since I’d been there so long. Whelp, it was a good run. He was gracious enough for me to stay parked there for one more night, however, because I happened to be headed off for a show.
So I gathered my gear, two outfits (one for the photo-shoot and my new Jersey), and headed downtown. As the fellow performers and I mingled and prepped for the the show, the good folks at NashBash took some amazing shots of us on Broadway. It was a lot of fun, be on the look-out for those as they roll out on the social platforms.
I was the “old-hat” of the evening. The other performers were anywhere from 13 to college age, stave for the mother of a mother-daughter duo that sang some very patriotic songs. Albeit, the other artists were young, their songs and performances were great! I’m already looking forward to my next trip up this way to do it all again.
Kevan Campbell even kept his word and came out to the show commenting how I should always just be on stage with five beautiful young women (That’s what my round was; me right in the middle of a great batch of gals, Ava, Ava, Emma, and their accompanist.) I have no quorum with that.
Kevan invited me out to do some shooting at the range with some of his buddies the next morning so I set an alarm headed back to the wagon and moved it down to the armory to be ready fire in the morning (since I was told I needed to leave anyway, at least I’d have another safe spot to land without rushing in the morning). Neither one of us woke up feeling well, so we rainchecked the date and I moved back on up into town to try and hop on the open mic at Springwater Supper Club. This is where I solidified something that I had assumed, but had never voiced…