Sunday Sept. 6th
While conversing, wine in hand, with others in my friend’s torch-lit backyard I am suddenly captivated by the realization that this is the most beautiful summer evening of the season; a fantastic night for a party. The air is calm and fresh and a multitude of stars twinkle and glimmer in a clear sky.
Situated within a virtual forest just up from 12 mile creek, it feels like we are a million miles away from suburbia yet we are a mere 10 minute drive from downtown Oakville.
Christmas lights strewn from tree to tree decorate and define the stage where GCDC (a band of 4 young musicians) are wailing out their own brand of jug band music (I especially enjoyed their rendition of Eleanor Rigby). The audience, some seated, some standing, cluster in small groups through out the yard and patio. Other partiers wander from group to group for a chat and a laugh.
On this night the Moonshine café closed up shop and relocated to their friends Lucy and Terry’s place for this private party and end of the summer celebration – school starts tomorrow heralding new beginnings for us all.
Kicking back and taking in the scene, the scents and the sounds of this festive evening this comment filters through during a musical interlude while the stage is being set and instruments are getting tuned, “Yah, the Moonshine’s really musician friendly; people come to hear the music and the performers encourage and learn from each other.”
Shortly afterwards a rousing jam session begins.
Though I sing flat and off-key and can’t hold a tune, I love music of all kinds. In fact I sing at every opportunity, most especially when I’m crusin’ down the road in my trusty Ford Escort Alf W- provided I am alone. I envy those who can get up and belt out a tune with abandon and the camaraderie that exists between musicians. I love to hear them talk about music in passionate, expressive sentences punctuated by sounds, riffs and body language when words just won’t do.
I come to hear the music.
It is 4 days later and I am in Burlington attending to some business which brings me within a block of my friend Rozanna’s holistic health clinic. I actually have been thinking of her for a few days now and though pressed for time I feel compelled to drop in. The door is open and I tap lightly. She is on the phone and waves me in. I take a seat and as I wait a man enters the room.
He is a singer-songwriter, friend re-entering the music field after some time working in another profession who has just dropped by to play his just released CD for her. In answer to a question I ask he says, “I’d like to play but I don’t want to do the bar scene again. I want to play in a place where people come to hear the music.”
Upon hearing this I have to tell him about the Moonshine Café in Oakville and (another musician friendly place) CJ’s in Bronte.
Will he follow it up? I don’t know. All I know is that for whatever reason this coincidence occurred and feeling as if I was meant to deliver the message I did so, acting as a connector as Malcolm Gladwell would put it.
Or, maybe the real coincidence is that I was meant to walk into her office and get a free CD, which I did. Maybe I really came to hear the music.
Follow the whole string of synchronicities that happened over a two day period beginning with the post of Sept. 11th - synchroni-CITY up to the present post.
Coinkydink report (see previous post)– no hits of yet.