I did a show the other night with a band called popCasey, comprised of some really talented local musicians (Steve Perakis, John Basom, Linda Dachtyl, Tammy Wallace, Geoff Sullivan. We performed some pop tunes written by the late Brian Casey, a local composer who passed in Sept 08 at he age of 36. 36, dude.
His family and friends have been rallying, gathering his materials and catalogging his song recordings and scores, and handling them all with care and love. Steve and some of Brian's other close friends have been interpreting some of the raw recordings, and communicating with one another, sending the correct lyrics to songs in the 11th hour before a gig. It's very humbling, heartwarming, and touching. Deb Colvin-Tener, who was in a band with Brian called Hipswitch, opened the show with some of Brian's more folky tunes, and throughout the sets, she & Steve told their interpretations of the stories of where Brian's songs originated.
It was a fun evening, somewhat somber, very moving.
It made me think about how precious our time here is. I hope when my time here is up, I leave behind a little bit of inspiration, and not a big mess for my people to have to clean up. I know that sounds morbid & strange, but it's what I think about almost nightly, after everyone's gone to sleep. I think about how fast it's all going, and how much faster time flies when you are older. How 15 years now seems so much shorter than it did 15 years ago. How a person 15 years my senior seems so much closer to my age than someone 15 years my junior. It's all relative. But it all ends nonetheless. I hope whoever has to clean up my mess finds joy in what I have left behind.
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