Perhaps I’ll say it once more, just for fun:

I did it!

I sang ten songs on the Langemunt, one of Gent’s shopping streets.  After winding down with a coffee, I had a bus to catch – a 40-minute ride to get my hair cut.

As I watched the passing scenery, I felt myself loosen, even on the edge of collapse.  The body was saying “That’s enough for now, big guy.”

My hair was really long, and my hair stylist is very popular, so it felt irrational to skip the bus and head back to bed.  So a-bussing I would go.

I got off in the nearby community of Evergem, with a 15-minute walk ahead of me.  Make that a stumble.  I had given a lot.  There wasn’t much left.

And then it happened:

I pooped my pants

(Sigh)

I won’t go into detail but I’m sure you can imagine.

It was a liquid and smelly journey to the hair salon.  As I walked in, I told Joyce the truth.  She gave me a towel to sit on.  I thought it would help to wash my hands in the bathroom but further hygiene adjustments would have to wait for home.

The thrill of my singing was fresh … along with something else.

Forty-five minutes later, I was a new man, as far as the top of my head was concerned.  Another walk led to another bus ride, full of human beings.  Each had a nose.  (Sigh again)

After a thorough clean-up at home, I contemplated the rest of my day.  I had agreed to sing at an open mic session in the evening but I felt like playing the “tired” card.  They’ll do fine without me.

But something propelled me to go.  Our usual venue was closed for construction.  Our alternate site was the terrace of a café.  When I arrived, there were at least 100 people enjoying the evening breeze, crowding around lots of tables.

About ten of us sat at a round table for the performing – drama, poetry and singing.  The background conversations were loud!

My body said “Don’t sing” but some other part of me stood up.  I sang two of the songs I’d sung on the Langemunt – about humanity’s future, and about a lost love.

I sang them with gusto, and with a high volume, despite our table being surrounded by others.  Was I insensitive to the needs of other human beings?  Yes.  But it sure felt good!

***

So … it was a day!

Up.  Down.  Up

And soon thereafter my happy head faded away on the pillow

I did it … ten songs.  I’m proud of myself

There was a lot of tossing and turning in bed last night.  Would I do well?  Would I mess up?  Would I be happy either way?

From 9:00 am on, I sat in Lloyd Coffee Eatery, alternating between moderate terror and a sense of peace about it all.

At 10:30 I started walking to my concert venue – Eyes + More optician on the Langemunt.  I said hi to Aude and Virginie and tried to have them calm me down.  They did their best.

Lift off for my voice was scheduled for 11:00 am.  At 10:50 it started raining, pretty hard.

And my mind roamed around the thought universe.  A main one was:

I can’t sing in the wet.  It’ll ruin my microphone and amplifier

There was a spasm of delight in this: I can go home and pull the covers up to my neck once more.  However, that urge comes with the fact that my moment of breaking through, of doing something for the first time, is merely postponed.  Sort of like an exam being cancelled.

At 9:55 the torrent went from all to nothing.  Just wet pavement.

I nodded.  I put the amp and mic stand on the street, grabbed the connecting cable, turns things on … and sighed.

This is the moment

Lots of people on the Langemunt, all apparently rushing to the next sale.  The woman employee across the street gave me a sound check.  Virginie and Aude offered a thumbs up.

And I was off … starting with “It’s About Time”.  I introduced it to the moving masses this way: the world needs far more “we” and far less “me”.

The last line:

It’s about you and me together … and it’s about time

I smiled.  People floated across my field of vision.  And then it was on to the next … “Loving Her Was Easier”.

This is a love story that was, and is no longer.  The yearning for yesterday

As I rolled through my set list, I received a few smiles, and the occasional person pausing for a few seconds.  Actually, many folks seemed more taken with my sign than with my music:

I don’t want any money.  Thank you

Virginie and the woman in the store across the street said they enjoyed the songs.  I didn’t see Aude at the end.

I packed up and went for a coffee with myself.  It was a soft sitting, just starting to grasp what I had done.  I sang beautiful songs from my heart.  I got the lyrics wrong four or five times, but truly who cares?  I don’t even care, which is very cool.

***

Tomorrow I’ll tell you what happened next … because right now I don’t have any more words to share with you.  Time to rest.

“Be a mature human being, Bruce.  Don’t be nervous.”

Those words come from somewhere deep inside me … and deep inside my society.  But they don’t ring true.  The request, even a demand, to “be better” is false.

Tomorrow at 11:00 am I sing ten songs on the Langement, a shopping street in Gent.

Saturday at 11:00 am I have a two-hour exam for my Music Theory class.

I experience both as huge challenges.  Will I forget words on Friday and concepts on Saturday?  The answer that comes is …

Probably

However:

Will I still be vertical at the end of it all?

Will my heart continue to beat?

Will happiness still be available?

Yes

Today I will practice the songs and figure out how to adjust the amplifier knobs.  I will study rhythms, pitches, scales and musical styles.

And as a friend said about his own exam:

All will be fine

And if it turns out not be to fine

All will be fine

A friend of mine is a student at U Gent and is immersed in study for his exams.  I’ll call him Jérome.

Two days ago, the format was a half-hour oral exam.  There were 600 pages to study and he was good for 400 of them, sketchy for the rest.

If I have my details right, Jérome had to select two questions to answer from twelve possible ones.  If it was in paper form, the questions would lie face down. 

Jérome picked two … both from the sketchy universe.  He answered.  He failed.

Jérome sat with me in the evening.  You can say what you want about shoulds.  He should have studied all 600 pages thoroughly.  The luck gods of the universe should have been kinder …

In any event, he failed the course.  And was peaceful about it.  Not a “Who cares?” attitude.  Not bitching about his luck.  Simply acknowledging that he didn’t get the job done, and that he’ll need to repeat the course in August.

I marvelled.  A lesson from the young one to the old one.

***

On Friday, I sing ten songs in a street concert.  What if I mess up?  If that happens, I’ll remember Jérome …

Perhaps sad

Definitely at peace

With a wee smile coming to my face

Sooner or later

So here you are, trying to cope with this person across the table.  He may be angry with you, or with a politician … or with life.

If you are the target, it’s pretty difficult in the moment to stay calm.  But perhaps an expanse of time will allow us to see newly.

Jack Kornfield, a teacher of Buddhist perspective, has something to say about this:

Each of us can find our own way to sense the underlying goodness in others.  One way is to shift the frame of time, imagining the person before us as a small child, still young and innocent …

Or, instead of moving back in time, we can move forward.  We can visualize the person at the end of their life, lying on their deathbed, vulnerable, open …

Here is the earlier and later man available to you and me:

Trying to figure things out

Trying to let go of accumulated woe

***

Do I have such eyes to see such things?

Or is the only image the one that stands before me?

If it’s good enough for Bruce Springsteen, it’s good enough for me.  A concert set list.

And so, voilà …

+++++++++++

Bruce Kerr

2026 Gent Tour

1.  It’s About Time
2.  Lovin’ Her Was Easier
3.  Paint The Sky With Stars
4.  Song For A Winter’s Night
5.  The Wings That Fly Us Home
6.  The Rose
7.  Remember When The Music
8.  When I Dream
9.  The Snows of New York
10.  The Parting Glass

Eyes + More, Langemunt

Gent, Belgium

+++++++++++

Tickets for my concert will be far cheaper than Springsteen’s … as in zero.  My band will be smaller … as in me.  The crowd won’t be 20,000 rabid fans … it’ll be shoppers heading to the next store.

However, in both cases there will be music.

I’ll start with a song about the world needing we far more than me (#1)

Then it’s on to the bittersweetness of lost love (#2)

The beauties of life in the nighttime (#3)

Alone in the wintertime, yearning for a loved one (#4)

The Spirit that is within us all (#5)

Do not despair.  Love is near (#6)

We made music in kitchens (#7)

A woman’s longing, sung by me (#8)

Remember me after you leave (#9)

A song to sing as I’m dying (#10)

***

On to Friday …

It feels like I’m going to say the same thing as I did yesterday, which would be boring.

But when I look at possible topics for today, only one shines – singing in front of Eyes + More on the Langemunt.  And so I compose …

On Saturday, there I stood in the “playing room” of Van de Moer Instruments, as Bert showed me how to use my brand new amplifier – a Roland Cube Street EX, also known as this:

There were knobs to adjust bass, mid and treble sound, as well as reverb, volume and power settings.  Plus lots of other stuff that I won’t need until my yearned-for future, when I’ll be accompanying my singing with the cello.

Mostly I was in Dreamland.  Simple instructions that were floating away on the breeze.

Bert suggested an excellent microphone (brand name unremembered) that would allow my lips to be several centimetres away from the mic and still create a fine sound.

And then I sang, with more excitement than fear.  I heard little imperfections in my voice that had gone undetected when I was unamplified.  So there were tiny spasms of disappointment.  But then there was a passage of deep notes, and the vibrations of my voice made me smile.  I’ll be fine on …

Friday

The amp, mic and mic stand will be delivered on Tuesday.  Friday is the next day that Virginie and Aude will both be working at Eyes + More.  They’ve been so supportive of my new life chapter, and I want them to be there for my first “concert”.

Hmm.  Why did I put the word “concert” in quotation marks?  I’ll try again:

I want them to be there for my first concert

That’s better.

Friday, June 5

About 11:00

Five to ten songs

And a little sign propped up on the mic stand:

I don’t want any money

Thank you

That’s to avoid confusion about there being no basket or hat or open guitar case.  Speaking of which, it’ll just be me and my mouth.  No instrument.

***

Did I mention?

I’m doing this!

No, that’s not me, but it soon will be … minus the guitar. 

I got a simple e-mail yesterday from the owner of Van de Moer Instruments:

Dear Bruce,

We have received the “Roland CUBE-StreetEX Speaker” you ordered.  It’s ready for you to be picked up.  See you soon!

Kind regards

Oh, my.  The beginning of a new chapter – me singing outside Eyes + More on the Langemunt in Gent, steps from my door.

After my Music Theory class today, I’m taking the bus to the store.  Dirk will show me how to adjust the dials on the amplifier, how to hold the mic, and probably a lot of etceteras.  I’m happy to be a newbie about amplified sound.

So here I am … on the edge of doing.  Dirk will ship the equipment to my home, and hopefully late this week marvelous lyrics and melodies will reach the shoppers on the Langemunt.

Yes

No longer just a dream

Stay tuned

Let’s start with the spoken word.  I listen to the vibration as people speak.  Some voices are soothing.  Some are intrusive.

Some languages bathe me in scented water.  French is one.  A musical word that fits here is legato:

“Tied together … played or sung smoothly and connectedly … flowing”

J’espère que le monde vous soignera bien

I hope the world takes good care of you

Some spoken languages jolt me.  They sound staccato:

“Detached … separated … notes that are played or sung sharply, making them short, crisp and disconnected from the notes around them”

I find Dutch this way.  It’s the major language in my home city of Gent, Belgium.

Ik hoop dat de wereld goed voor je zorgt

I hope the world takes good care of you

I know that my written words don’t give you a clear picture of the spoken words.  But the difference for me is striking.

If you look at the French sentence, a lot of the words end in vowels … soft.  In the Dutch one, the endings are mostly consonants, often hard ones such as k, p and t.

In both worlds, most of the people are nice

Still, I prefer to be lulled

Just as a peach begins as a hard, bitter fruit fastened tightly to the branch from which it hangs, so one’s sense of self takes shape in childhood and, if all goes well, matures as the years pass, growing firm and confident, holding tightly to the patterns of behavior and belief that nurture its inherent authority. 

But when one commits to a long-term monogamous relationship, or to parenting, or to spiritual practice, like the peach slowly ripening in the warm sun, this same sense of self gradually softens.  Bit by bit the mind relaxes its grip on everything that formally provided it with the illusion of security until finally one day it simply lets go of the branch and falls.

Someone wrote this.  I don’t know who.  I’m just glad it was written.

***

I know about being hard and unyielding

I know about being soft in the mouth and cool to the touch

I know something of the letting go and the falling through air

But I don’t know the big one

Taking my last breath

The sweetness on the tongue

The waving goodbye

Done