The show must go on, no matter what

Hooded Mergansers

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Barry and I drove about an hour and a half south of where we live to see Dailey & Vincent in concert. We found our seats in the first row and sat down to wait for two of our favorite bluegrassers. In a little while, Darrin Vincent and the other band members walked onto the stage; that is, all the band members except Jamie Dailey. My breath stopped short, and probably everyone else's did, too, when half of the duo did not appear. We were all wondering, where's Jamie?

    Darrin stepped up to the microphone and announced to curious minds that Jamie would be absent. His parents had been in an awful car accident, and he needed to be with them. My compassionate heart reached out as my enthusiasm fizzled. To be brutally honest, I did not expect Darrin to do his own job and Jamie's, too. First of all, Jamie is about as replaceable as my miniature poodle, Josie, rest her soul. Some people and canines cannot be replaced, and that would apply to Jamie, a powerhouse of fun, energy, and tenor timbres. I thought the show would be a flop, but I had been wrong before.

    Those guys cranked up their mandolins, guitars, banjos, and fiddles, and the show took off like a rocket launched from Cape Canaveral. Darrin Vincent held his own and Jamie Dailey's, too. Even in the co-star's absence, amazing voices and hearty melodies filled the auditorium. Although I missed Jamie's jokes and musical magnificence, Darrin, to my surprise, exceeded my expectations. He stood out and filled in. After the concert, I ambled to the car as uplifted as every other time I had seen them.

    A couple of weeks after that concert, as luck would prevail, Barry found out that Dailey & Vincent would be performing about an hour and a half north of us. A redo! Not only did we have a second chance, we were in for another showstopping surprise.

    Some of the details are fuzzy, but I am remembering a sold-out show, Barry using his phone to make some connections, meeting up with a fireman at the venue, and a white envelope filled with two tickets. Again, we sat down in our seats and waited. In a little while, Jamie Dailey and the band members walked onto the stage; that is, all the band members except Darrin Vincent. Wait a minute. Don't tell me. Jamie stepped up to the microphone and announced that Darrin would be absent, due to sprawling out in a horizontal position on the bus, sick as a dog. Once again, compassion and enthusiasm collided, but looking back now, I chide myself. "O ye of little faith."

    Jamie grabbed hold of Darrin's great big stand-up bass, and in customary comedic tones, quipped about not playing one in fourteen years, but he would try. Of course, he performed in exemplary fashion, plunking those strings as if he had played it a day ago. No one could have walked away from that concert disappointed.

    In reflecting on those two events, I confess to having great, initial disappointment and subsequent, little faith, which is now regrettable. After the final strums and plunks, and everything was said and sung, I felt elated; not slighted. Those on the stage took up the slack, if there was any slack to be taken, and gave one hundred percent, plus some. Apparently, the Dailey & Vincent shoes are interchangeable, and the show must go on, no matter what.

  

    

An autographed program. They both showed up for this one.

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