TomHofstätter.com

Joni Mitchell said it best: “Don’t it always seem to go/ That you don’t know what you’ve got/ Till it’s gone…”.

It’s true that hindsight is 20/20, and that our appreciation for things grows over time, but with age and experience I am learning to spot a good thing when it’s right in front of me.

Sometimes though, it still takes a good kick in the ass to make me sit up and take notice.

At a time when I would probably not have otherwise considered a change in career I am suddenly compelled to focus on uncertainty, next steps, and the stress of navigating from the way it is, to the way it’s going to be.

To make a long story short, my current employment situation is in flux. My department is undergoing a much needed overhaul, which in the fullness of time I must admit offers the promise of more productivity and efficiency. In the meantime though, it has shocked me out my routine and has initiated a great deal of soul searching.

Being a realist I accept that at anytime my ‘job security’ is 50/50. At any point I can choose to walk away. Conversely, I’m not so arrogant as to think that no one else could be found to do my job. It’s a cold equation.

What has come as a surprise however is that despite recent distractions, I still love going to work. Everyday I tackle challenging problems which are stimulating, rewarding, and fun. I have access to the tools I need to be creative and productive in a boisterous, supportive environment. Best of all, I get to do it with a group of people I am proud to call my friends.

I think I make casual friends easily, and I’m sure most work environments spawn healthy camaraderie. However our alliance seems different than any professional relationship I’ve experienced before.

While different in many ways, together we are greater than the sum of our parts. We spar with each other in good times, and rally around each other in the bad.  We are a team of Straight-Men (and Ladies), none of us willing to surrender the punch line. We wage combat with relentless verbal jousting and mordant comedy. Always with admiration, never with derision or contempt.

We do our work with a glib nonchalance that is often mistaken by observers as carelessness. To each other though we expose the breadth of our passion, and our commitment to getting it right. Outwardly bashful, afraid of appearing to care too much – we recognize ourselves in each other.

And there’s the rub.

While I scramble to manage the obvious practical considerations of career path, income, and security I am also aware that I am not at all prepared for the possible end of this collective friendship,  – or rather – kinship.

I’m confident that we will always remain in contact, but we will never be as connected as we are now.

On one hand I feel better that I have taken this time to collect my thoughts, Yet, I know it will not cushion the blow when it comes.

Maybe it’s true that we will not really understand what we have until it’s lost. Perhaps we understand it too well. Maybe, that is the luxury of loss.

David Ross MacDonald - YouTube Video

This past weekend I was delighted to spend a few hours at bobcathouseconcerts chatting with, being entertained by, and ultimately admiring David Ross MacDonald (www.davidrossmacdonald.com).

If you have never been to a house concert, you should give it a try. It is an opportunity to see an artist perform in an intimate setting which inevitably produces an unforgettable experience for performer and audience alike. Add to that some exceptionally gracious hosts, delicious food and drink, facinating conversation with passionate new friends, and you have what amounts to Speed-Dating with a much happier ending.

Because I live nearby I could hear a bit of guitar and fiddle emanating from the house so took the liberty of heading over early. When I arrived I was surprised to hear our humble host Bob LeDrew and friend Heather were ‘rehearsing’ a couple of opening songs (by rehearsing I mean that Heather had arrived from Iqaluit an hour or so earlier and they almost played each song once).

For me, music has always been more than the physical act of creating sound. Whether playing alone or with a group in front of an audience I was (am) never too caught up in the mechanics of playing my instrument. Rather it’s the emotion that’s created and they way I’m touched by experience.

The same holds true when I am the audience. I can pretty much remember where I was and how I felt the first time I heard a particular song, or watched a particular performance. Because of this I am generally a pretty tough critic and expect to be moved by the experience. On this night I was not disappointed.

For the most part I rely on one measure of how much I like a particular performance: Does it get my fur up?

At the first note of  Bob’s warbling tremolo charged guitar and Heather’s haunting fiddle work I had goosebumps on the back of my neck, and they remained there until the end of their set. Their vocals were an uncannily perfect hybrid of styles. Either would have been suitable and distinct solo performance. Together they were utterly delightful.

The cozy environment and ‘homer’ crowd was perfect for Bob and Heather, and as I commented to a fellow audience member I thought it unfair for David to follow. How could he top that? He did.

David is a disarmingly charming guy. Hailing from Australia and having travelled the world (nearly every corner of Canada) he was able to converse with insight and humility with everyone on matters local, national, and beyond. In fact, as a result of living much of the time in Western Canada David demonstrated to me that he is more in touch with recent Canadian Politics and social issues that I am. And I’m not proud.

Throughout his performance David was able to seamlessly weave together stories of his childhood and travels with his intricate guitar playing (some of them he would confess, were even true). Between songs he would almost apologise for getting lost with his eyes closed as he relived the pictures in his mind. In the dimly candle-lit parlor I often peeked around the room to see nearly every one’s eyes shut as well, as we all made our own movies to the score.

His wit and effortless playing belied the complexity of his compositions and thoughtfulness of his storytelling. I listened in awe and his fingers danced on the guitar. I was humbled as I have long since surrendered the notion that I will ever command a guitar like that. Theirs was a display of symbiotic beauty, one I feel privileged to have witnessed.

I can’t say if you would have liked to spend an evening like this, but I am sure you should find out for yourself. House Concerts offer a kind of intimate setting and exposure that offers immeasurable benefits both audience and artist.

You can have a listen to David’s music on his website www.davidrossmacdonald.com and decide for yourself if it’s your kind of thing.