It was five o'clock on an early Friday evening. The city looked great! A bit chilly, but it didn't seem to bother me. Not on that night, at least. The Squirrel Nut Zippers (SNZ) was in town, ready to provide their raving, loyal fans (old and new) with music that, I believe, inspires its followers to realize that music is not just about musicians playing their instruments. Music is about giving a part of one's soul and sharing it with others. Haven't you ever heard an artist perform, but felt that he/she 'wasn't giving it his/her all'?

I thank SNZ for giving me a chance to take a 'peek' at their soul. I have played their songs over and over again, and have not tired of them. Never have I been so passionate about listening to music as I do with theirs.

Just recently, I started to listen to their music in a different way. I started to listen to the little details: a tambourine making itself known in the up beats, as the main melody (carried by the violin) races on, in "Ghost of Stephen Foster" (Perennial Favorites). Or, in "Flight of the Passing Fancy" (HOT), when the banjo is strummed (almost) frantically underneath the melody. Or, in the last minute of "Prince Nez" (HOT), when the violin counters the main theme played by the trumpet.

Minute details? Maybe. But, the point is, each one of the Zippers feels and understands what is needed in each composition. Maybe what makes their music grab one's attention has to do with their improvisation. After all, it's public knowledge that, when they do a recording, each piece is played as if it were the final recording. I guess one can say, "they give their heart and soul" in every performance.

I was heartbroken twice that night. No, it wasn't a life-altering, tragic event. It was just one of those unlucky days, I guess.

It was around six o'clock. I experienced the first (heartbreak) when I had one of those lucky 'brush with fame' deals, as Jimbo glided alongside us and turned his head and said, "I'll be right back," and continued to climb up the stairs. We were the first in line and I yelled out his name, excitedly, and asked him for an autograph. Who knew I'd even get a chance to occupy the same space as one of the members of SNZ? And, on top of that, I was gonna get a real, genuine autograph! Well, 6:30 PM came around. It was the designated time that they let people into the concert hall. We proceeded to run for the 'best' seats (at that venue, there were only a limited number of seats) we could find.*

The second (heartbreak) incident happened at the end of the great show. As the ushers let us into the concert hall, the attendees were all given a postcard with a picture of SNZ. We got a yellow sticker on our postcard. During the show, there was an announcement that owners of the postcards containing stickers were to redeem their prize (cds, autographed posters, etc...) at the souvenir center 'after the show'. Imagine my enthusiasm when I heard this! Maybe I was going to get the autograph I wanted after all. After the show ended, we started to head out to the souvenir center. I almost passed up buying a t-shirt, knowing I had something 'special' waiting for me. When we got to the center, I proudly handed over my 'stickered' postcard to the woman behind the counter only to hear her say, "the people in charge** of 'that' packed up and left 'during' the show...***"