This story should not be surprising to anyone who’s been to a couple of bluegrass festivals. Some years ago, I went to the Late Summer Bluegrass Festival in Plymouth and got into a fun jam – it was a good spot, nice rotating cast of good players. I was playing bass, which at the time was unusual for me, but there was one available, and no one was playing it, so I did. For 11 hours!
If someone asked you to stand up for 11 hours and do something, wouldn’t the answer be “No way!” If, before the jam, someone said “Let’s jam here for 11 hours!”, I would have said “No way!” But we did exactly that, and it wasn’t until we were done that I realized how long we played. I was quite sore the next morning, of course.
I did a similar thing at the La Quinta in Tacoma one year. After a full day of Wintergrass bluegrass fun, my buddy Red Rick and I went back to the hotel, and go into a nice jam, and the next thing you know, the sun was coming up. We were so tired, when Rick got back to the room, he fell asleep sitting up while taking his shoes off.
Playing music seems to draw from an entirely different energy source than most other activities. I’ve seen this time and time again. It adds to the magical aspect of music, and it is remarkable.
There is a limit though, and I have hit it a few times, if I had multiple gigs over consecutive the days. You expect the adrenaline to hook you up to that magical power source, and whoops – forgot to the fill secondary tank!
Speaking scientifically, it’s probably not just music that does this. I suppose any endeavor that’s fun, interesting, and out of the ordinary will allow you to tap that alternate power source. A trip to Disneyland, or some exotic location might do the trick as well. I know I have experienced the “alternate power source” phenomenon in Bakersfield, but that was a combination of music AND an exotic locale – couldn’t fail!
