This weekend, I travelled four hours by car to sing with friends at a fundraiser for a local drug and alcohol rehab centre for teens.
This didn’t feel like a good deed because I love getting together with these guys to make music and visit the beautiful barn that my friend has turned into a concert hall, home, garden, wedding photo location … you get the idea (see photos).
The turnout for the event wasn’t great, unfortunately, which made me especially sad when we visited the building that is to be turned into the centre.
It was once a Red Cross hospital (my friend was born there) and has since been used as a home for foster kids and a halfway house for troubled youth. The place desperately needs an overhaul if it’s to heal anyone. In its present ramshackle condition, I think it might actually drive someone to drink.
The cause is a good one, though, and I was happy to help. I guess the good deed part is that I braved swarms of mosquitoes, deer flies and what they call “no-see-ums” for 48-plus hours. I also survived without indoor plumbing, and not much sleep, thanks to a new cuckoo clock that chimed on the hour throughout the night.
I’ve never had murderous thoughts about a bird, but it took all my self-control to keep from plucking this cuckoo right out of its nest. I guess some birds just aren’t meant to sing….