Open Mic Blues

Cross one more off my bucket list.

A few weeks ago I finally followed through on a personal goal and played an open mic session at a neighborhood bar in Fort Collins.

I suppose it could just as easily have been a neighborhood bar in Loveland. But I’d made a list of all the open mics in the immediate area, and it just so happened the first one on my list was in Fort Collins.

I say this to thwart any automatic outcry of “Why go to Fort Collins when you live here in Loveland? Our bars can be just as obnoxious as theirs.”

True enough.

In fact, that was one of the reasons I’d put off getting out and playing for people I didn’t know -- those surly strangers drinking heavily at the bar who might not easily get behind my music.

(At this point, I should briefly describe what an “open mic” is -- for the uninformed reader).

Open mics are those times during the week when bars and coffee houses invite amateur entertainers to get up on stage (if there is one) and belt out a couple of tunes.

Unlike karaoke, there is no prerecorded backup track for the singer to warble over. It’s all you, baby, unless you have some backup musicians to play and sing behind you.

In other words, an unconscious Death Wish becomes Reality.

Now I know there are many ways I could have gone about doing this.

I could have invited all my friends and family members to flesh out the crowd and give me a boisterous and (hopefully) sincere reaction to my musical talents.

But I didn’t do that.

Instead, I decided to go with an audience of just whoever was there that night – in other words, just wing it and hope for the best.

I could also have played solo, hogging the spotlight all to myself. But I decided to invite some of my fellow open mic performers to join me on stage, which meant I wouldn’t be able to play my original songs – the primary reason I was doing an open mic in the first place – because they wouldn’t know how to play them.

Nevertheless, I thought it might be more fun to have others also get up and do their thing while I did mine. So, I played a few old rock classics – songs that I figured most everyone could jam along to.

Fun, yes…but only up to a point.

Because after it was over I felt mostly unsatisfied and unfulfilled by the experience.

Yes, I was given some polite applause after each song, and it seemed like the other musicians were enjoying themselves to one degree or another.

But in the end, it just didn’t measure up to my expectations (like anything ever does?).

And when it was over I packed my guitar in its case and shuffled out of the bar feeling a little disappointed.

OK – I know some might say I didn’t really give the open mic experience a fair test. They would probably also say I should keep doing them, polishing my act and delivery. And then, after playing a dozen or so open mics, I might truly be able to see if they are worth doing.

Yeah…I guess so.

It’s like a lot of things: If we don’t have a FANTASTIC time right away or aren’t naturally “good” at whatever it is, we often beat a hasty retreat from that world and seek out other experiences that come more easily.

It seems to reinforce that old saying: “If it’s not hard, it’s not worth doing.”

I really don’t know if that’s true, even though it sounds true. Still, I know there are LOTS of things that really AREN’T that hard that are also worth doing…

So I guess I’ll just have to figure out if it’s worth it to me to go back on stage and try to get that elusive shiver of delight -- if and when it all comes together.

Until then, I’ll be appearing nightly in my living room – wildly appreciated by my wife, dog and cat.