How may I tell you about my gig at the Old West End festival?
Should I tell you about the strange journey of trying to get our gear from our cars to the stage? Of how we had to send our bassist to hunt down a golf cart and driver?
Should I try to describe what it felt like to try to set up our gear and play while battling the distracting smell of frying elephant ears and roasting corn?
Should I mention my initial fear when my pedalboard decided not to work? Or when my low E string kept going out of tune in the middle of songs? Or of my relief at being able to cope with on the fly?
Should I mention how cool it was to finally play a band show with people I know in attendance? That I had both family and friends in the audience (in addition to whomever had to listen to us while they ate their food court offerings?)?
Should I mention just how awesome my band sounds, particularly when our trombonist is able to join us?
Should I explain how delighted I was that, as I was post-gig packing up my equipment, my daughter came over, grabbed a guitar cable and pretended it was a skip rope?
Should I try to describe the general uneasiness I felt when sitting on the back of a golf cart, straddling my gear, and tearing through the parking lot back to my car?
Should I express my joy at having the entertainment director ask me if he could call me next year and schedule me for a better timeslot?
Should I go on?