Done In By Baker’s Square
Yet another adventure here in Ye Olde Folks Home.
I met the head nurse in the hall and mentioned in passing that I was working on a song list for a mini-concert I wanted to put on for the residents in the near future.
She favored me with a sunny smile. “Oh, you should do that! Soon! Come down to the lobby and sing! It would lift all our spirits!”
Well, I had often wondered what would happen if I showed up in the lobby to sing even just one song. How would that be received?
And now, emboldened by her words, I decided to find out!
Guitar in hand, I timidly entered the lobby, went into the adjoining party room where there were tables on which to put my song notes, and strummed a few chords to start out.
At that moment two women came in, to find out what I was up to, I thought, but I was wrong. They went to the signup table for the weekly outings, which was a trip to a local restaurant at that point.
“IT’S BAKER’S SQUARE THIS WEEK!”
“BAKER’S SQUARE! LUNCH AT BAKER’S SQUARE!”
Obviously the two women had neglected to put in their hearing aids that morning, but no worries—they could yell at each other at the top of their lungs.
I strummed more lightly, trying not to interfere with their listening comprehension as they shouted over me.
“WHAT? BAKER’S SQUARE?”
“HAVEN’T YOU EVER BEEN TO BAKER’S SQUARE?”
By this point I switched to light finger picking, barely audible.
“OH, WE’RE HAVING LUNCH AT BAKER’S SQUARE?”
It wasn’t their fault. They did nothing wrong. But I was defeated. I unslung the guitar and quietly retreated back to my apartment.
Perhaps another time.
Since then I have had numerous occasions to sing to the residents here, but that was my first attempt.