Greetings from Freeport. I write you today from one last day of sunshine, as I sit five feet from the pool, and 40 feet from the ocean. The house where I stayed is equally as impressive as when I arrived, and I can't imagine ever taking this place for granted. I can even get behind having oceanside property AND a swimming pool, which was confusing to me until I saw a jellyfish yesterday just below the boat dock. Sometimes you just need creature-free chlorinated water.
The gig on Saturday night went really well. You never know how they will go when you're out on the road (or even when you're at home, for that matter ... will anyone be at next Thursday's -- Dec 17 -- Christmakuh show at The Monkey Wrench?). Most of the time, people haven't heard of you. It's especially when you're playing a pub. People aren't there for live music. They are there to talk to their friends and drink a lot.
But the room full of folks in Shenanigan's, -- which looks exactly as you might imagine an Irish pub to look, except for the palm trees just outside its doors -- were, for the most part, quiet and attentive. They laughed in all the right places, and they were involved in my stage banter. They even asked to hear original songs, which is a rare find in a bar setting.
It got me to thinking why I don't do this all the time. For the most part, the business plan has been to tour where you get the most radio support. Things like Islands' gigs and cruise ships just aren't my thing because I've been doing the original music trajectory, and most places like that want cover songs and singalongs. But I had a blast in Freeport, and it seems that I'm welcome back -- to sing MY music. Unexpected good news. Several folks asked when my next show in Freeport is so they could bring their friends.
I guess it's time to book a little islands tour. I'm thinking it might be more fun to be a rock star in The Bahamas than in Iceland.