Why must the show go on?

“… you must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”

Samuel Beckett.

I haven’t read Beckett in years, but his words inform me, guide me, haunt me. Bleak, terse, commanding. Words chosen with precise intent.

We played a show on Friday night. Another show in what is a long list of shows. It goes without saying that some shows are better than others. But how do we judge “better”?

It was a three band bill, constructed by the one band who didn’t actually play. I call it Internet dating. A Google search. Scrolling on Bandcamp….. hmmmmm these guys look interesting.

On the day of the show, the band who instigated this random adventure dropped out. A two piece band, one guy, one gal. The guy was sick. Had a bad cold or was it invalidated Covid?

“You can’t be too careful. We don’t want to make others sick.” Given that they were travelling across the US, and would have to cross an international border, I don’t blame them, and would have made the same decision.

What was the phrase that became de riguer in early pandemic times, “with an abundance of caution.” Back in July we had to cancel a show, as I showed up feeling crappy on the day of show. I had taken a home Covid test prior to leaving the house, one stripe= good to go, and then I received a text from home. Two lines. The stripes. You are positive. The second stripe emerging like pentimento. Ghosts.

Literally, I walked into the sound check and said I had to go home.

Who knows who is sick or contagious anymore? Do these self tests even work with the new variants?

There is a wide divergence of opinion surrounding the risks or responsibility of managing risks in this pandemic.

Are we all slowly dying? Isn’t that what we have always been doing ? Slowly dying, that is. The aim is supposedly to prolong the affair.

Perhaps it is the autumnal darkness but in these dark days, I am just putting one foot in front of the other. Going through the paces. I looked out at the audience on Friday, and could count them on my toes and fingers. Half of the audience was either the first band or their followers. They were in their Twenties, and dressed in costumes. I went up to one of them and said “you should go on.” They were not the band, just friends of the band. It was 9:45 and, if I didn’t get them on, then our set would be even later.

One of our guys had to work all weekend, so there was that to consider. Our drummer had a bad cold, but out of an abundance of duty or habit, he said the show must go on.

We had our 10 audience members. People who cared enough to come out. So we went on and gave them a no holds barred show.

It was a great show. One of our better shows. All the practice paid off. And then it was over.

And now it is a week later. I am making plans for a big 3 day event in January to mark my 65th birthday. Go big or go home they say. As I wait for people to get back to me, I begin to doubt. I begin to hesitate. It is a shallow pool that we wade in these days.

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

Samuel Beckett