Band practice

Banish images of guys in a garage making loud noises and drinking beer. The rehearsals of Amy Kortuem and her Celtic Band are very civilized.

Very serious.

No visiting allowed. Especially no giggling.

Riiiight.

The band gathered in my living room with only a week and a half to go before our St. Patrick’s Day concert. The Band is so good to me. So generous with their time. So enthusiastic about the music and about performing it. And, somehow, everybody knows what I mean for them to play rather than what I’ve written for them to play.

After furiously scribbling a few notes on her music, Martha’s ready to go. Takes one huge breath and plays the new jig we’ve been learning in a blur, daring us to catch up with her. Marti limbers up her elbow, waits for her cue and takes off after Martha. And SamTheDrummer crouches over his bodhran, laying down the law and drumming like a madman.

Megan will be dancing her sweet little heart out at the concert again. I asked her to dance a hornpipe this year. She cheerfully tipped her head to the side, accessed her internal notes and took off across the floor. That girl can dance. Makes my old Irish dancing injury ache just looking at her.

The set list includes all the music from the new CD. We’ll also be playing Haste to the Wedding and The Wedding Night Jig in honor of SamTheDrummer’s engagement. There will be a wedding next spring, and I hear he’ll be arranging some very complicated music and making me play it. And I would deserve that.

Now’s concert crunch time. This year I’ve been remarkably calm. Perhaps the big, creative push of the fall and winter producing my video and my new recording have upped my adrenaline to a nice cruising altitude. Maybe it’s experience — having done this so many years in a row, I have things down to a science. I like to think we’ve settled into a Band nicely, and now music can just continue to flow.

It will be flowing steadily from this corner of the living room
until next Saturday, that's for sure.