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Kids are amazing measuring sticks for music. While adults don’t often know what to do with themselves during live performances (especially those in living room settings), kids do what comes naturally: they dance. Last night’s show at the Eves Estate in York, Maine featured many tiny dancers, and also a room full of warm, thoughtful new friends, all sitting next to an open fire, listening to my performance with open ears/minds.

To tell this story, we should go back to the beginning, back to last year’s North Berwick Democratic Caucus, where Jenny and I first met Mark Eves. Mark facilitated the events that day (as President of the North Berwick Democractic Party), and showed a saint’s patience while still sticking to the task at hand (choosing delegates to represent North Berwick at the statewide Dem Caucus). The process was long (six hours, all told), as many folks gave testimony to why they believed one candidate should represent over another (ok, I think there was only one Hillary supporter, but nobody’s counting anymore), and Mark’s task was tall. Many folks had brought their kids, who ran screaming at random intervals across the gymnasium, but Mark never lost his cool.

The most impressive point came towards day’s end, when it came time to choose delegates to go to Augusta. This process would have been easy if there wasn’t an abundance of interest (Jenny and I included). Because of this, everyone had to simply throw their name in a hat and hope they got picked. Now, let me just say it would’ve been very easy (and understandable) if Mark Eves had just stepped forward and announced that because he’d put his time in, and because of his position, he deserved to go. But no. Instead, he simply filled his name out a small piece of scrap paper and tossed it into the hat, just like everyone else. This was the sign of a true leader, someone who not only facilitated a six-hour long meeting without wavering, but who also saw himself as standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his peers, not above as so often happens with politicians. He was one of us, not one of them. 

Over the ensuing months, Mark and I communicated through email, and when Jenny and I learned that he was running for the Maine House of Representatives, we quickly recalled our Democratic Caucus experience and knew this was our man. Jenny and I volunteered to stump for him outside the polls here in North Berwick on Election Day, waving signs and hands at folks on their way to vote.

On the morning of Election Day 2008, I woke and penned the Mark Eves Fight Song, a battle cry of sorts with an old-timey feel (it could just as easily be performed by a barbershop quartet). I tried to perform the song for Mark as he was standing outside the polls that morning, but as luck would have it, the rules guard against such displays of enthusiasm (you have to be 500′ away to hold any sign, shout any slogan, or perform any fight song). The experience bonded us both as fellow Dems, but also (and more importantly) as new friends.

Jenny and I have lived in North Berwick for just over five years now. Mark and Laura Eves live just down the street. Let’s just say that if you were born and raised in this town, it’s tough to get in with the locals. Jenny’s different because she teaches here, but I’ll still say we’re kept at arm’s length. Meeting Mark and Laura has been a great experience, a welcoming handshake in a sea of cold shoulders. We are psyched to have them in our lives. 

Back to the party. Last night’s concert was fun but also very mellow and relaxing. I think it was probably just the right infusion of music into an already art rich household (Mark’s Dad is a poet and painter, and we had a great conversation about one of our shared favorite poets, Robert Bly).  I did (of course) perform the Mark Eves Fight Song. Now before we go any further, let me just say I don’t just go around writing songs for people. I’ve also said that songs present themselves to me, and every time I try to chase them down, it never works. But I can think of no better way to start a friendship than to seal it with a song, even if it conjures visions of men in pork pie hats, or perhaps balancing on stilts.

I would like to thank the entire Eves family as well as all of their friends for welcoming me into their home and lives. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and while I may have told a few too many stories over performing songs, it was a night I’ll never forget.

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