I tried to slip out of the Flynn Theater after last night's performance but I got kidnapped by an old friend who is aware of my distaste of club crawling in my old age. We walked up Church Street and stood in front of the Red Square and watch one song from Dave Grippo's Funk Band who were performing in the alley way. I would have made my way up to the bandstand to pay my respects, but the joint was full of people who were on the "one."
We continued our journey and stopped for the final song from Jenni Johnson's last set which took place under a tent outside Leunig's Bistro. Paid my respects to Jenni and gave her an apologetic hug since I had not seen her in performance in some time.
Made a left hand turn down College Street and decided, after looking at my rolled up festival guide in my back pocket, to make another left hand turn on St. Paul Street and we made our way to American Flatbread to see Anthony Santor and Friends. God, I'm getting old. I recognized no one in this ensemble but Nick Cassarino (guitar) and that was only because WRUV has his latest CD and his face was familiar. I got to get out more. The music was adventurous, especially by the alto player.
My eyes starting burning around 12:30 a.m. and thought it was best that I make my way home. When you reach a certain age, you have to learn to pace yourself. Ten days of music is a long time for some people. Ten days of anything is a long time.