When: Monday, May 12 7:30PM ET

Who gets 10%: THE FOUNDATION OF MASS EYE AND EAR https://masseyeandear.org/makeagift/give-now bread cast upon the waters

http://paypal.me/vancevancevance or https://venmo.com/vancevancevance or VanceFunder P.O. Box 17, Arlington, MA 02476

*PRIVATE COACHING AVAILABLE - Contact me (vance@vancegilbert.com) for songwriting, performance, and voice coaching.

***CUSTOM SONGS - Expensive, but sure, you want one about you or your family or something.***

SHOWS OF NOTE:
5/10 ROCK HALL, MD - THE MAINSTAY https://mainstayrockhall.org - my first time here, and they’re about 1/2 sold out but tickets scram the last day, so -
5/17 BEDFORD, MA - NEW SONG COFFEEHOUSE - https://newsongbedford.org - yeah, thistle sell out too

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IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES

I’m pretty sure it was the Tonight Show.

Jonny Carson introduced Garth Brooks, who came from behind the curtain and immediately sat next to the desk. The curtain never opened and folks startled until he explained that the band bus broke down some distance away so he had to show up solo. Guitar in hand, the stage crew doing all they could to get overhead mics and lavaliere clip-on mics out of the way, he proceeded to just criminally crush “If Tomorrow Never Comes”, and where I thought I might eyeroll at some Nashville country anthem or another I found myself braying sloppy like some sad ungulate.

I have a few songs that play with time, future-wondering, either pitying of or pining for the past. All us troubadour singing songwriters have written and sung from that very living porch swing. And then a genius lovely cohort like Jill Sobule dies in a house fire, and we mourn. Deep inside we each recall the many miles in our vehicles, more than the average of you, and we note that any of us that hasn’t nodded off and heard the highway rumble strip at least once in the last 6 months is a liar.

All that future. All that mileage ahead. Any number of ways. Who do we think we are on our acoustic perches of perspective?

Today I head in for more imaging and consult on something growing in one of my salivary glands. It’ll be either a benign thing or the other. There’ll be some tomorrow for sure, as the ticking hands don’t stop for any of us, but just how much remains a date stamped on your ass that only the Good Lord can see. All I know is that I’ll sing as best I can, love furiously - even folks I kinda can’t stand cause I’m great at it already and they need it, build model planes relentlessly, and jog. Well that’s not pretty but I’ll mean it - with every flipping of the hourglass I’m allowed