Hidden in the wash of sound and the swirling colored lights, there was love. A deep, abiding, crazy love. A love that shaped every sound in every tiny hall, fueling each performer for the stretch of each show, and powering every last irreplaceable note, right down to the end of the last long night. . .

 

     Creating a place every night where there was that kind of love took a commitment that was as deep and difficult as the kind you might typically find in a marriage. And it was like a marriage -- a bond of player and instrument, band and club owner, audience and performer -- all creating that safe, joyous place each night. For themselves, for each other, and for all those who would care to take the time to cross over, moving into that bright, shining light, with the loud noise that gradually revealed itself as sweet music, as the visitor drew nearer and the sound took shape in the uninitiated -- but open -- ear. And mind. And heart, and soul.