As most of you can tell, whether it is due to my ironic writing style or my bio at the bottom of this page, I am a loud and proud hipster. If they had a parade, I would be gyrating my bum on the lead float. Of course, I would be wearing aviator sunglasses, a denim jacket, and rocking a nice fade haircut. But that goes without saying. What I’m getting at here is that I perform at a lot of open mic nights. And I love it. Here’s why.
I’m not much of an adrenaline junkie in the traditional sense. Jumping out of airplanes and swimming with sharks just sounds miserable. However, walking on stage and performing music in from of a room full of strangers gives me a high unlike anything else. It’s magical. My pal and I walk into a bar. He carries his bongo drum, I carry my guitar and amplifier. Nobody knows us, but we perform for them, we engage them, we provide them an alternative take on modern popular music. Translation? We take Rihanna and Justin Timberlake’s best jams and slap our own stylistic take on them. They love it, I think. Well, at least we do. That’s what we tell ourselves late at night (usually in whispers).
Anyway, we enjoy what we do, and that’s the bottom line. Sure, the first show was difficult. We played in a dimly lit room for a million people. But every show after that became progressively easier, and we have become better for it. Yes, our performances have gotten better, but most importantly our attitude and confidence has improved tenfold. Oh, and so has our friendship.
Persevering through adverse situations with someone, inevitably brings you closer. It’s true. Sometimes all it takes is a bongo, a guitar, and Rihanna.