The first of three concerts I attended recently was that of a local artist, Braydon Zinc, held at the Dorothy J. Corsberg Theater at the NJC. He called it a 10-year anniversary concert, which felt more like a thank you celebration. Braydon paid tribute and recognition to his roots and the many who supported and encouraged him to live his dream of writing and singing music.
Braydon was incredibly talented on the guitar, authentic, entertaining and funny. He told emotional stories and his own songs were touching and personal. He offered the audience his crème de la crème.
I was humbled and fortunate to witness the love and support that friends and family showed to a local man who followed his heart and made it happen.
The next concert was a Graham Nash concert at Chautauqua Park in Boulder. The evening was quiet and peaceful—Colorado so beautiful. While we were in the 120-year-old building with its open architecture, the stage glowing with amber pillar candles—the only source of light in the room—there was a power outage. We braced ourselves for a cancellation announcement, as there was no power for the stage lights or the amplified speakers and instruments. The audience in the sold-out theater of about 1,500 seats clapped and cheered as Nash and his band took the stage. We could barely hear the music or the stories Nash was telling, and the artists looked like tiny shadows. Still, the evening filled me with awe. Aside from a woman behind us who shouted, “Speak up, we can’t hear you!” the audience was respectful, attentive, and had great compassion given the unusual circumstances. It was intimate and renewed my faith in the human spirit.
The final concert was at Planet Bluegrass in Lyons. It was called the Rocky Mountain Folk Festival. We arrived with lawn chairs in tow and enjoyed three different entertainers. It was a bit like Woodstock – lots of hats, sandals, flowing skirts, flowers, and lots of families with children of all ages having fun together. People danced and ate from picnic baskets or food from numerous food trucks. Couples held hands, laughed with friends, and looked at the stars. It was enchanting – invigorating – joyful. Saint Vrain Creek bordered the venue and people of all ages rode dinghies. Stunning granite boulders and majestic pines surrounded the large lawn in front of the stage.
The experience was peaceful.
The value of music and the private or shared experiences that songs and lyrics provide are an essential part of our culture. During these three concerts, I saw the best sides of humanity: from the gratitude of small-town folks making the most of it, to letting go and enjoying the beat, the company and the surroundings.
Each time I felt like the core of an Oreo cookie.
Until next time: Live while you live.
Jennifer Goble, Ph.D., LPC, is the author of My Clients…My Teachers and the blogger and author of Rural Women Stories: www.ruralwomenstories.com.
