That’s The Way The Cornbread Crumbles

One of the things about being married is that you are the automatic partner to any event that your spouse wants to go to. My husband found this out three years ago when he came to Belfast with me to Bjork. She is my favourite artist, but I know no one else in Ireland who liked her enough to accompany me.

So last Thursday it was time for me to pay the piper. I’ve spoken before about my husband’s love of country and bluegrass music, and how I shudder at the mere sight of a banjo or a harmonica. It’s the one area in which my husband and I are completely opposite. But Gillian Welch was coming to the Grand Canal Theatre in Dublin, and my husband hadn’t seen them perform for seven years.  I was kind of dreading it, but didn’t want to let on to him just how much I was dreading it. Nobody wants to go to an event with someone who has a face on them and isn’t even trying to enjoy themselves.

And actually, it wasn’t that bad. Yeah, I could have done without the harmonica. And I can’t say I’m going to load up all their songs to my iPhone. But Gillian Welch and David Rawlings are really talented musicians, and a couple of songs I really liked.

Sometimes it’s good to be pushed outside your comfort zone, even if it’s only to something like Appalachian/Bluegrass fusion. It’s a reminder to myself that I need to be more open, that even though something might not be my thing, it doesn’t mean that I can’t take something from it.  

And I even came up with a plot point at the concert! Score.