It’s hard to believe, but one consequence of a recent diagnosis and a treatment for it is that I’m no longer able to do one thing I was doing a year back: stay at something, whether an event or gig, really late. It forces me to learn how to say no, and to confront my unreasonable fear of missing out.
It’s unreasonable given my own role in the scheme of things. I could be a chronicler but the best ones are eyewitnesses, which I could no longer be. But it is up to me to tell those stories, and sometimes I may have to tell them in other ways. It starts with a piece I’m finishing on a band that just launched an album.
But for now, I can’t regret what I did for love, to quote my other favorite song from A Chorus Line.