Some of you know I’ve played in a lot of bands from the time I was 14 years old. More accurately, I guess, I played in a lot of bands from the age of 14 to 21, then took a nine year break, then played in basically one band since then. This one band that I’ve been in since 2001 has had a couple of name changes (from Los Profes to The Gravitropes to, now, threejays), and there was one major change in lineup when Dennis, one of the most skilled guitarists I’ve ever been allowed to play with, stepped away to tend to his tinnitus. But in most other ways it’s basically been the same band.

As the three remaining members of the band age–I’m 56 years old, and John and Jeff are in their early seventies–it feels like more and more of a mystical journey for us to play a gig. So I was touched and enthused when my friends Tanya, David, and Tyler hosted a threejays party at their house. They have an unforgettable, beautifully designed common space they converted from an old garage, and it had been a year since threejays had played out anywhere.

I did my best to celebrate the occasion by wearing the green jumpsuit I bought this summer. As my wife might say, there’s no being shy when you’re wearing a Big Bud Press jumpsuit.

We were loud enough that practically all of the partygoers–and we had a sweet turnout–listened to us from the porch outside the Taj Garage. Nonetheless, I thought we sounded pretty good. Jeff and John are remarkable musicians, and I did some serious woodshedding over the last weeks to hold up my end of things. We sounded, at least, like we’d practiced these original songs every week since 2021, which was indeed the case.

Probably my favorite photo of the night is the one below: my friend Damian (a wonderful fellow bassist, by the way) was obsessed by how much love this old Fender Precision has gotten, as evidenced by the wear patterns.

I would have liked to record the whole show, but it was beyond me to get that set up. A number of friends took little videos, though–this was one of the best of them. The song is one I wrote many years ago, “The Girl With the Artichoke Heart.”

As a teacher, I’ve been dismayed over recent years at how few of my students play any kind of musical instrument. I tell them the truth: it’s not that hard to learn to play a few chords on the guitar, and if you know a few chords, there are 10,000 different songs you can play. If you can get good at playing a few songs–maybe a half dozen, say–people will invite you to their parties and you can make music with your friends. There are very few things in life that have brought me more joy than that.