Pause for a Moment of Joy

Day 8.

Have you heard of Iris Apfel, the style icon who rose to fame in 2005, at the age of 80? She had been fashionably New York–fabulous all of her life, it seems, but it wasn't until 2005 that the rest of the world knew it, thanks to a last-minute exhibit cancellation at her local museum (Oh that little joint? They call that the MET, you know... the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC), and some enterprising individual quickly assembling an exhibit devoted to her sense of style.

That's an inspiration, and a good reminder. It's very easy to think that it's too late to do the thing we wish we'd done, especially when all around us we see praises lavished upon the prodigies who have achieved remarkable mastery at a very young age, particularly in music. Anyone famous in mainstream music these days—and famous in this sense is not about the fame but about the reach—is generally very young. We're no longer young. When talking about our musical aspirations, Soul Papa and I have many, many times rationalized: "Well, that ship has sailed. Let's just play locally and have fun."

With that humble goal in mind, we started playing locally recently, but very quickly, we discovered that something is different this time around. A wonderful new bandmate has appeared in our lives, and he has brought a new energy to our music. We are no longer a duo with a hired bass player; we are now a trio. And that is lifting us up. Together we are making music better than we've ever done before, or at least more satisfying than ever before. We feel optimistic. We did a wonderfully satisfying 90-minute set and we didn't want it to end, and I can't wait til next week when we can do it again.

You know what? This is getting really good. Maybe we can do something with this. Maybe we can have a broader reach. Perhaps we can shoot higher than the 25-seat gastro pub two miles from our house.

Perhaps someone will devote an exhibit to us at the Pilgrim Hall Museum, and our fame will be assured.