Well, if you were around for our first stab at it last night, I am dreadfully sorry. Holy crap on a cracker it was awful! The guitars were out of tune and too loud. The battery on my acoustic guitar pickup was dead. And we forgot that singing requires you to actually produce something close to the melody of the song.
If you show up in a bar and start stompin’ out country tunes, and that bar is not a bona fide country bar, you’d better be good. Not good we were, Obi-wan. If that had been the end, then it would have been my first and last open mic. Ever.
Fortunately, the guy that was running the show was an extremely charitable fellow named Bob (who, by coincidence, went to the University of Maine in the 60’s). Since there were only 4 or 5 acts signed up, he suggested that we stick around, get drunk, and hop up for another try later. So, we tuned up the geetars and decided to just have a fun. The result: Fun!
Our second set was a rollicking good time. In fact, a couple of biker looking dudes rolled in and gave us the seal of approval when after a hard-rockin’ version of “Move It On Over” one of them cheerfully rolled up his pant leg to reveal his “Hank Williams” tattoo. What higher praise is there?