Singin in the Wildwood

I was a little confused this weekend. The hotel was in Iowa, the gig was in Illinois about ten minutes away. Wildwood Baptist Church is on the opposite bank of the Mississippi. I watched the sun come up on river sunday morning after seeing these great black and white photos in the lobby of Riverboats parked at this very landing  over a hundred years ago.

For a moment just before sunrise it could have been 1867. “Someday I’ll be in a black and white photo in a lobby somewhere” I thought “probably a picture of me standing out front of a hotel waitin for a ride”

I didn’t think I made much of an impression at the sunday morning services after singing two songs. But at the concert that night I discovered that “Iowans are just really relaxed” even if they live in Illinois! You can see the real back bone of America here in the midwest. Great folks as soon as they start talkin. Polite and casually reserved in presenting themselves. Hence I was feeling like a bull in a china shop!

But when it got right down to it, I was reminded before going on to sing in the evening, something I read on twitter.  “How you make someone feel might be remembered long after all you say and do is forgotten”. And I set out to make connections a little stronger by starting in the lobby shakin hands. I had a better sense of who I was singing too this weekend for that reason. And it felt like home even if there were cornfields next door. I shared a little more of my personal redemption than I usually do. I’m comfortable where I am in my own skin. I think it’s what makes me feel less like a stranger in new places too.

I saw parts of Iowa and southern Illinois I don’t recall making note of in the past. I look forward to a return visit.