Back in the saddle

It occurs to me that I never seem to go to shows anymore. It used to be I would frequently comb the sites of my favorite small venues and when I found an artist I liked playing, boom, I was on it. It didn't matter if it was at 10 p.m. on a Tuesday on the other side of the worst traffic imaginable at a place that didn't serve food and had expensive parking. I went. And I loved it. It wasn't just entertaining, it was enriching and enlightening. Perhaps most importantly, it was inspirational. I don't really like to talk about writing, but I will say that, for me, there is no better way to light a fire than with a couple glasses of wine and an intimate concert. God bless the old Largo. I don't think it's a stretch to connect my lack of authorial spirit with my sharp drop in concert attendance. Why do we sometimes stray from the things that make us so happy? Granted, part of it is a financial sacrifice. With all the weddings and what not over the course these spring and summer months, I had to shy away from the big shows with the big ticket prices. No matter, those were not the shows most important to me anyway. It was the little shows with the $10 cash only at the door and the standing room only and I don't know why I got so lazy about them. I liken it to taking a loved one for granted. It's not that you lose interest or love, you just get complacent even if you're denying yourself happiness in the process. You could also compare it to gaining weight after moving in with a girlfriend/boyfriend. You don't mean for it to happen or notice as it's happening, but one day, there you are twenty pounds heavier. Laziness is addictive. Until you catch yourself and stop it, damn it. Stop the insanity! Tomorrow night, I declare I shall attend either the Hotel Cafe for Patrick Park or The Little Room at Largo for Peter Salett and Larry Goldings. It's time to get it going again, in more ways than one.