It’s a lot easier to blog when I’ve done something the day before. Sadly, those are also the days that I think of the philosophical topics to write about that I always forget by the time it comes to write after a slow day. I could get meta and write about that; except I did something fun yesterday, I went to see Jonathan Byrd at Common Ground Coffeehouse. Any show at Common Ground is a home game. It’s funny how these things work out.
Carter always sends somebody to pick me up at the Hastings train station; the only challenge is getting there. I always as Google Maps what’s the easiest route; it changes based on the timing of buses and subways. Yesterday the fastest route is also the easiest, one bus to Yonkers and then taking Metro North three stops. I’m always hesitant about that route as it’s a Westchester Bee-Line bus and they run infrequently and aren’t reliable. I decided to take it as it said I’d arrive at the train station 12 minutes early. Instead the train and I reached the platform at the same time. Usually I get a ride from Sarah, but she came later today so I was picked up by Steven who I didn’t know. We still found each other easily.
We got to Common Ground early and helped to set up. I’m mainly there as the merch guy, sorry, cute merch guy, but also, I do whatever else needs to be done; setting up chairs and taste testing the fresh-baked brownies.
About ten years ago Jonathan Byrd went from musician I liked to songwriting god I obsessed on. Then he got a band, the Pickup Cowboys, Johnny on electric guitar, saw, and anything else he puts his mind to, and Austin on drums. Now Jonathan is a country-rock deity. Jonathan tells the story that somebody asked him if Johnny’s played a normal guitar. He said, “The guitar is normal, Johnny isn’t.” That’s accurate.
There was a full house, so I sat in the back near the door. I had company back there, Adrian. I’ve known Adrian for years but rarely see her. Now I’ve seen her two of the last three weekends. That’s a good thing. Barbara, Beth, and Mark also sat in the back. I was with my people.
I was also with a dog. A woman with a service dog sat on my right. Without thinking I went to pet it as soon as it came over and put its head on my lap. Then I thought to ask, and its person said I shouldn’t pet it. The problem was that there was nothing the dog wanted nothing more than scritches and I wanted nothing more than petting it. During the first set it kept putting its head on me and giving me puppy-dog eyes, but I was good and respected the owner’s wishes. In the second set I could no longer resist those eyes and we spent the set dog-human bonding. I might live with cats but I’m a dog person and dogs know it.
After the show I came up with the perfect compliment for Jonathan. I told him that the show was as good as those fresh-baked brownies. I had one in my hand as I said it. That was high praise indeed. Chocolate is something people can aspire to equal, but they rarely do.
Adrian offered to drive me to the train station after the show. That meant waiting around for me to finish doing the merch. She then had the brilliant idea of asking if I were better if she drove me to Scarsdale on the Harlem line rather than Hastings-on-Hudson on the well-named Hudson line. How did I never think of this? Instead of taking buses and subways from the train station, it’s just a 7-minute walk to the Botanical Garden station on the Harlem Line. I have to talk to Carter and see if that’s where I can get picked up from and dropped off from now on. It’s not that much further from the UU where the Common Ground is held.
Now it’s time for me to go, chocolate chip brioche French toast is beckoning me. Writing is important but that’s a hard standard to live up to.
Wise Madness 