I had lunch a few months ago with one of my lawyer friends at a downtown Potbelly Sandwich Shop. While we were waiting in line, my friend pointed to a 20-something guy with an acoustic guitar who was singing songs to the noon-time crowd.
"Farmer," he joked, "that should be your gig."
"Been there, done that," I replied.
"When?"
"As recently as last December," I said.
"Seriously?"
I then explained to my friend how I, a middle-aged lawyer, ended up playing the Potbelly gig, albeit at a different location.
In 2013 and 2014 I practiced law in a downtown office building that housed several restaurants on its lower level. Potbelly was the joint I hit on a regular basis.
I always talked with the folks who were making my sandwiches, and one afternoon the conversation turned to music.
Jerry Butler's "He Will Break Your Heart" was playing on the store's sound system, and I was shocked to see one of the young men behind the counter singing along during the chorus. I asked him if he knew that the guys who wrote that song -- Jerry Butler and Curtis Mayfield -- grew up in Cabrini-Green.
He was surprised to hear that, and we talked a bit more about Butler and Mayfield.
The store manager was standing just a few feet away. He asked me why I knew so much about old music. I told him it was a hobby.
I also told him that I kept a guitar in my office upstairs, and I'd be happy to bring it down and play that Jerry Butler hit, along with a bunch of other great tunes, anytime he wanted an old guy to entertain his lunch crowd. Once he realized I was serious, he told me to pick a date.
And that's how I ended up doing the occasional Potbelly gig.
The last time I played the store was December 30, 2014. That afternoon, I told the manager that I was going to leave my law firm in a few weeks. I wished him well because I knew I probably wouldn't see him much in 2015.
Yesterday, while scrolling through a 2014 calendar, I saw an entry for that lunchtime gig.
That got me thinking. I've played very little music this month, and the year is quickly coming to an end . . .
So I shot my store manager buddy an email and told him we were sneaking up on the one-year anniversary of that December 30 gig. I suggested we should make it a holiday tradition.
He was game. So tomorrow, on December 30, 2015, I'll grab a guitar and do my best to entertain his customers.
Life is for living.
