Ah, East Coast summers.
The downpour started around 6:30 — perfect timing; our show was at 7. By then the band and I were safely cloistered in an office across the street, watching glumly as the sidewalks turned into rivers. One of the Madison Square Park staff appeared, very damp. “Well, for what it’s worth,” she reported, “there are people out there.” I blinked. “Yeah, quite a few of them camped out, with umbrellas.” She disappeared again.
“I’m trying to think of someone I’d stand in the rain to see,” someone said.
“I wouldn’t stand in the rain to see me,” I said. “Wow.”
At 6:50 the woman reappeared: they had called it off. The wind had blown water all over the stage, and the power supply was sitting in a sandy puddle. We trudged back to the park anyway, to see for ourselves. No kidding. Much as we wanted to go ahead with the show, ruining instruments and getting electrocuted seemed, well, unwise.
The remainders of our would-be audience came up to say hello, and we commiserated about the cruelty of the day’s weather. (By now it was 7:15 and the rain, its damage done, was starting to let up. Go figure.) A mother and daughter introduced themselves, mentioning that they’d hoped to hear Enough to Go By. Well, that we could do, I thought…
I found Marika and Dina nearby, climbing into their rainjackets, and everyone crowded close for an a cappella version. The lyrics seemed apropos in a new way: here we were, performing at a cancelled show, because these people loved the music enough to keep hope alive in the pouring rain. Not something to be taken lightly. Enough to live on, indeed.
“Lullabye for a Stormy Night,” someone called, and we all laughed. Of course. I pulled the tarp off the piano just enough to get to the keys, and asked everyone to come up onto the stage. (At the time I didn’t think about the load-bearing capacity of the stage — it probably gave the Madison Square Park staff a heart attack to see twenty people climb aboard. Sorry, guys.) After Lullabye I launched into our usual finale, Harbor, and Dina pulled out her violin while Marika stood by and sang harmony. Jim tried to join in on drums, but the kit was already half-disassembled, so he took pictures instead.
So there is much gratitude due. Thank you to my band, for their easy generosity, for being such a classy group of musicians to play with. To Jay and Sarah and everyone at Madison Square Park, for working so hard to put a great show together, and being so accommodating of us and our fans when it all fell through. To each person who stood in the rain, probably knowing we wouldn’t do the show, and hoping anyway. And to each person who was there in The Living Room at midnight, waiting for our hastily arranged make-up performance, so many more of you than I expected. Bad weather brings out good people, and there are good people in all kinds of places. Thanks for the reminder.