It's a Small World After All

No - this isn't another post about Disney. I didn't drink the water from the ride and trip. That was Lisa Simpson.

No, mine is a story that sort of begins with my friend Kevin.


That's him in the black hat and the plaid shirt.

Kevin works at the music store where Liv takes drum lessons. He thinks she's awesome, so I think he's awesome. We talk every Thursday while she takes her lesson. He has played with a lot of big name folks and he always has a story to tell me, usually backed up by pictures or a CD or an article in a magazine. Talking to him is surreal sometimes. I am very used to him mentioning names that are familiar to me, because he's played with a lot of REALLY big names. One day, a couple months ago, he did just that. We were a few sentences past it in conversation when I realized - hey! I didn't recognize that name because he was famous! I recognize that name because I knew a guy by that name - a musician by that name - in my hometown! I made him rewind to see if I'd heard him right. Indeed I had. The bass player in Kevin's band was the guy I knew from Youth Fellowship in high school. I didn't know this guy well, but we had mutual acquaintances, most notably his brother, who I ran around with a little bit back home.

Small world.

It turns out these brothers are both now living where I now live. I looked up the one I knew on Facebook. (I do love me some Facebook.)

Tonight I was reintroduced to the other. (That's him in the plaid shorts and the white shirt, in case you were wondering.)

What a fun night.

Of course seeing someone you knew thirty odd years ago unexpectedly is a trip. (Not a 'drinking the water from the Small World ride' trip, but a trip all the same).

That was fun.

But it was a fun night all around. If it's not clear from the picture, this was a little community free concert. People came out with their lawn chairs and their blankets and hung out and listened to music in the park. I was not the only person there who kicked off my sandals. Well, technically, I was the only person who kicked off MY sandals. Other people kicked off their own sandals. Other people kicking off my sandals would've been silly. And weirdly less sanitary than going barefoot.


The wee ones put on a show of their own. They danced, they ran, they rolled down the hill. Is that not an excellent hill for rolling? Slightly older kids practiced their cartwheels and somersaults. Older kids still climbed trees and talked in the woods.

A toddler with the sweetest curls brought Tom and I into her ball game. Well, she started with me, but when she realized Tom would play, I disappeared. She was an eye-batter, that one.

I have never gone to one of these concerts before. Expect that to be rectified.

It was a perfect evening - temperate with a warm summer breeze. (Which did, indeed, make me feel fine. Thank you so much for asking.)

The band was so good. There was just so much talent - Tom and I recognized the keyboard player as the bass player in a jazz combo we used to see a lot. One of the guys had written an Emmy award winning jingle. He has an Emmy on his mantle. There was so much diversity - both in the genres they played and the talents they exhibited. Several people played different instruments. Most of them sang at least once. Crazy talent.

To the best of my knowledge they all have day jobs.

And Nickleback are millionaires.

Sigh.