It's All So Simple, It's Almost Stupid
Here's how I know February is over: this Friday at 11:30 I don't know what I'll be doing.
Whatever it is, it probably won't be as fun as what I've been doing every Friday for the last four weeks.
Mike Viola has finished his residency at Joe's Pub.
Sara's off to California now to celebrate her birthday. I'm back to work trying to find work and get ready for April 18. Ben's practicing with the guests for next Saturday. And, somewhere out there, a cello player is shopping for a new instrument.
We've had some great shows and heard some sweet music in the last year or so at Joe's, but everyone agrees that something special has been happening in February. Maybe it was the guest stars; maybe it was because of the songs; maybe it was because of the crack band that could write a song on the spot as the chords were called out; maybe it was the return of Jedediah Parish; maybe it was because Mike's leaving for LA soon and we don't know when he'll be back. Or maybe it's just that something good happens when Mike Viola is on stage, elevating the whole beyond the sum of parts . . .
All I know, is that the shortest month--even extended into the encore day of a leap year--has ended and I want a little more.
Mike Viola has left the building and we're all sad but smiling, just like you're supposed to be at the end of a great pop tune.