We’ve played enough Beatles music over our forty-some year career that we can borrow a phrase or two from Ringo.  I doubt that he would mind at all.

The night began for us as it always does.  A half hour of introspective conversation of an adult beverage or two, and then inside the Three Blind Mice Irish Pub to set up and get ourselves ready to rock.

The when the magic hour of eight O’ clock comes around, we sling the guitars over our shoulders and set the entire night in motion.

On this particular Friday evening, everything started as it usually does.  We settled in and began pouring out the musical requests, as usual.  The patrons were happy and enthusiastic.  We had a few who stopped by that had seen us on other occasions.

There were many tables with happy faces and clattering glasses.  Just the sounds we like to hear.  We played lots of oldies and some of every type of favorites that we could offer.

The Mice is a very intimate place to play.  There is no hiding at all, as the tables are crowded right up next to you.  That is the way Carl and I like, as a matter of fact.  A setting like this has many benefits.

First of all, you are right next to people.  No hiding what you are doing or playing at all.

Kind of like a magician who works the crowd; you are very vulnerable and so, need to be prepared and professional.  You can’t fool people when you re just a foot away from them.

It prompts you to up your game.  To get better.  To sharpen your craft.

So we played through the first half of the night, just that way.  With hard work and professionalism.

The second half of the night was more of a struggle.  As it has been at times this summer, the nights have become unpredictable.  The weather, the calendar and the whims of the patrons have been up and down; just like the ale in the mugs of beer.

The rest of the evening it was pretty slow, which happens some times, as people want to spend their evenings outside on the nights in Michigan that aren’t filled with bugs, humidity or rain showers.

That’s ok.  When that happens, we are able to dip into our mixed bag of favorite eclectic tunes.  We dust them off and offer them up to all of the willing patrons that are still thirsty for a great song.

That is how we ended the night; playing our favs to the hearty souls still occupying tables when the clock reached one.

All the nights can’t be explosive.  Some nights will be of a different variety.  After working all day, and then entertaining until the wee hours, we had earned this hard days’ night.

As the fall approaches, people will fill our favorite place once again, and everything will be right with the world.

Rb

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