Some gigs go exactly as planned.
And some gigs involve wind knocking over your speakers and crushing the flower cart you just built.
Our recent Arbor Day performance definitely fell into the second category.
The weather had ideas of it's own. It was cold. It was windy.
And then came the moment our speakers tipped over crushing the flower cart we had worked so hard to create.
It was so hard to watch both speakers crash into the cement. My thoughts started to wonder if they had broken in the fall. I didn't know if we'd even have a sound system after that.
I took a deep breath and step by step, tested the sound system, setting things up in as calm a fashion as I could, deciding it wouldn't do any good to get freaked out about it, but to just go on.
Luckily, no one was hurt and we were able to get sound through the speakers.
Next, we just had to start singing and try and put on the show we had rehearsed. I mustered up a quick count-off and we started playing.
The Smile that Changed Everything
The sun was glaring straight at us. We could barely see our charts. Our fingers were cold and stiff, making it hard to play the music we had practiced. The wind was blowing in our microphones and amplified in the PA. And when things go wrong, it's really easy to get discouraged and lose your energy mid-stream.
As I was feeling like everything was just not working and wanting to have it end quickly, I looked over at Vern and he gave me this kind, sweet smile.
Without any words, he said, "It's OK. We're in this together. I love you."
That moment changed everything. I found the strength to keep going and try my best. If nothing else, I had a precious moment with my sweet Vern.
After a few songs, people started coming and sitting down to listen. We noticed people looking over and enjoying the songs. A few couples came and sat close so they could enjoy the music. Children danced right in front of us while parents recorded the magic on their phones. It was a kind of cozy, cheerfulness in the middle of all the chaos. The kind of shared moment that only live music can create.
No rewind button. No perfect conditions. No polished studio edits.
Just real people, real weather, real life, and real music being enjoyed in real time.
Hard Moments Often Carry Hidden Gifts
Sometimes the things that feel hardest in the moment are the very things steering us toward growth.
That gig reminded us of a lot.
It reminded us to keep improving our setup.
It reminded us that memorizing songs is way better than relying on technology or charts.
It reminded us that resilience matters even more.
And it reminded us that audiences are often far more generous than performers imagine. People are not usually looking for perfection. They're looking for connection.
The Work Behind the Scenes is Paying Off
Lately, we've been spending a lot of time improving our stage presence and performance flow.
I've been setting up the keyboard instead of playing the house piano. We've been practicing like we perform (standing and moving, looking up more, looking at each other more, practicing what to say between songs, creating a better experience for the audience.
That kind of work is awkward, feels funny, and often turns into a ridiculous overly dramatic performance in our living room with Vern and I laughing out loud while we make silly comments, change the lyrics, and exchange funny looks,
But it's paying off.
Even though we haven't had as many gigs this year as we had hoped, the extra practice time has become a gift in disguise. We're tighter musically. We're more comfortable performing. We're learning how to adapt.
And we've been going out as a duo more than ever, which has been incredibly convenient and honestly a lot of fun. Practicing together in this new way has sharpened everything.
Sometimes the Detour Becomes the Road
Life doesn't always hand you the season you expected.
Sometimes it gives you windstorms, broken props, fewer bookings, and frozen fingers.
But sometimes those exact detours become the road that leads somewhere better.
We left the Arbor Day gig exhausted, cold, and strangely encouraged.
Because even when everything looked messy from behind the instruments, people were smiling, kids were dancing, and the music still landed.
That counts for a lot.
And next time, we'll be better prepared for whatever comes our way.
