“I’m sorry,” I say into the microphone.
With that, I close my eyes, adjust my banjo strap, and embrace the nerves that have flooded into my system. From previous experiences, I have learned that under pressure I suddenly forget how to sing on key. {{more}}
We went out to an open mic at Ramunto’s, across from Keene State College. Willie McCoy’s has been our indulgence for getting the sweats out on stage, but an invite from some friends who were hosting was a good excuse for me to embarrass myself in a new place, with new people. Something about that is beautiful to me. Everyone at Willie’s knows I screw up pretty terribly on stage. All eight of the regulars are familiar with what they’ll get from me when my nerves go haywire, even though six of them are people I know, and the other two are watching hockey.
In my younger years, the anxiety of playing in front of people would be enough to keep me sitting through an open mic, even though I’d have walked all the way to it with my instrument swinging by my side. But I’ve out grown that fear. Conquered it. All it took was my discovery of pre-gaming and a few beers at the bar and suddenly I can walk on stage like I was born to be there. I’ll likely screw up the song, but at least I’ll give it a shot.
But what to choose to settle me in. “Get Henniker, Hop Slinger,” Aria says to me.
“Oh you like it?
“I haven’t gotten mine yet. It’s only $3.50.”
Done.
Golden and bubbly. Hoppy kick to the butt. But if I’m being honest, it wasn’t the right choice for me. IPA’s have been the drink of choice in our lives for maybe a little too long. So unless it’s something with a real wallop, (looking at you Heady Topper or Greater Good’s IBU madness) I feel a little let down. On top of that what I really crave on these February nights is a creamy porter, dark as sludge. So for round two I grab a familiar drink, Great North’s Vanilla Porter. That did the ticket. If you’re looking for a brew to thicken your blood, that’s the one I’ll recommend.
All in all, I drank a little too much. But on this night I think I really nailed my song. Or maybe that’s just the beer talking.
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Colby Thompson currently lives in Keene New Hampshire.
Colby Thompson is a wannabee Vermonter, living in Keene New
Hampshire. His days are taken up building his tiny house on wheels with his
partner, Aria, or working on clients videos for his wedding film business.
Colby traveled around the country twice in his 1975 VW bus and is looking
forward to his next chapter homesteading on his land in southern Vermont. He likes beer, cheese and cheap wine.
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