small, small world

Last week the husband and I went on a fabulous date to a cute bistro on the quaint square in our town. It's so cute you have to take an elevator to find it and they only serve dinner one day a week. I felt like a cool local that knows all the secrets and shortcuts.

On our way in, we passed a seriously eclectic bookstore that had a sign in the door advertising an open stage that night. Open stage is like open mic without a microphone. During dinner, the husband talked me into going home and picking up our instruments and playing some tunes. It was one of my favorite dates ever!

The funniest moment happened often we'd played and were wandering the store, listening to the other performers. The walls were covered in old pictures of the town and newspaper clippings. One caught my eye because it had violinists in the picture. I looked closer to see if I maybe knew them, and I saw this:

It was ME!  3 years ago I had been invited to play at their New Years party and it was so unremarkable I'd forgotten all about it.  Which begs the question - how many times have I been in the local paper here and not been aware of it??