Garg and Dan, thanks for the kind words.

Yesterday I learned that location, location, location aren't necessarily the most important assets for a performance: timing, timing, timing are just as vital. After playing post-zap in the nuclear oncology waiting room to a crowd varying between two and ten, plus the staff behind the reception window, and getting wonderful response to some Kristofferson songs and other tunes, I went upstairs to the snack bar and bought a cinnamon twist and an oatmeal cookie and went into the general waiting room, got some of the free coffee, and sat down to eat. Upon finishing I approached a group waiting for appointments or family in the Chemo area and asked if they minded if I picked the banjo and sang a tune or two, and was welcomed. It was about 11:30 when I started playing, and after I did a couple of tunes--well received by those left of a rapidly diminishing group--it occurred to me that just before lunch is not a great time for such a gig, since there are no lunch time appointments, and I made the ego saving observation that I hadn't, perhaps, driven the crowd away by myself.

I went home, played with the dogs, checked messages and threads, had a bit more lunch, and just before 3:00 headed back to the clinic, down to the nuke area, and played quietly for a few minutes to almost no audience, not a worry because I was warming up for my four o'clock gig in the chemo treatment room (moved from Friday to Thursday because of the holiday), then went up to the waiting room above, sat down, played and sang one tune, and a Japanese American man about my age sat by me, thanked me for the song, asked me about my instrument (my banjorine, the 17 fret five-string I once left on top of my car after a gig, drove away, and didn't figure out for a week or two why I couldn't find it around the house or in the car, then remembered the process whereby I lost it... then got it back a year or so later when it appeared at The Fifth String, a Berkeley story where I had reported it missing, in the hands of Keb' Mo', who had just bought it in a pawn shop, had brought it, planning to replace the worn and somewhat ratty fibreskyn head on it. Jim Hyatt, the store owner, recognized it, told Keb' who insisted he wanted to give it back to me.

Jim called me, told me the banjo was in the store, and put Keb' on the phone to talk to me.
He wanted to just give it back to me, but I insisted I pay him what he had paid for it and told him I'd be at the store in a few minutes. I grabbed my checkbook and headed out the door, but decided that I'd give Keb' a banjo of equivalent value, one I didn't play much--a Gold Tone Hoab, a five string built around the 13 inch pot of the Gold Tone bass banjo--so I grabbed the Hoab and headed to the store. Keb' was there with his manager, Debbie, and we shook hands and talked about the transaction and agreed upon the exchange, then Keb' wanted to hear me play it... and after a bit we were jamming, joined by Jim, and played a rousing "Amelia Earhart." Then came the heart-breaking part of the exchange: Kevin and Debbie invited me to accompany them to a Taj Mahal benefit that night in San Francisco--but I had to refuse because of a prior commitment to my wife. Keb' and Taj being great friends, the event would certainly have ended with my meeting Taj, and possiby a post concert jam. How's that for timing, timing, timing?

Back to the earlier discussion: I answered the man's questions about the instrument (which now bears Keb' Mo's signature along with a couple of other faded ones--Holly Near and Ronnie Gilbert, who signed it just after Utah Phillips, whose signature had totally faded away before Keb' found it--and then he sat and told me the story of his life and of his son, who was in for chemo, and I only finally managed to break away just before 4:00 when I was scheduled to play in the treatment room. It was actually a pleasant conversation, and I'll have to admit that I carried my end of it as well, and he came into the treatment area and after my half hour concert, I passed his son's treatment room and he was there, and I said goodbye and he thanked me for the concert.

I have another week of radiation treatments, but plan to continue to play weekly concerts in both waiting rooms, but I think I'll try early afternoons for both waiting rooms as well as the 4 pm Friday concerts in the chemo treatment area.

Charles