The sun blazed above us as we set up on stage. The drums were the only large, difficult thing to maneuver. The rest of it was a matter of making a couple trips to transport my violin, Peter’s flute, Doug’s mandolin and accordion, our bags of snacks and drinks for the day, and a few pieces of tech.
“We do a song outside the gates while people are waiting for the grounds to open,” Peter informed me as we got everything situated backstage. “Something fun and upbeat. Probably Morrison’s.”
“Wait, what?” My heartrate spiked and I swallowed against a sudden wave of nausea. No one had mentioned this before. Morrison’s? We hadn’t practiced Morrison’s. I knew it, but man, I was not prepared for this. The past few days were pushing the limits of my spontaneity for the week. Month. Hell, I hadn’t be
