"Oh, darlin', we needed you today." That was the first sentence I heard after we had finished the program and started to pack our equipment. I stopped to listen to the lady who said that after so much bad news—horrific news—that has dominated the airways, they needed to hear pleasant things. Happy things. She thanked us for making them smile, for bringing them joy.
We do what we do because it's fun. It's fun for us. It's fun for the listeners. But we tend to forget that it is often more than just fun. It can be a few minutes of escape for those who need to think about something other than what is happening in their world at the moment.
This music can zip people right back to days when they were younger, when knees and hips and backs didn't hurt so much. We watch the audience singing along with us, knowing every word of every song. These are their songs. Songs from their high school years, songs from their courtship years, songs they sang to their babies, and songs their parents may have sung to them.
All of those memories wrapped up in some bouncy tunes strummed on ukuleles. Memories of people loved, of places visited, of songs heard on car radios—when cars only had radios and not bluetooth connections.
We love what we do. We love that it makes people happy. That makes us very happy.
Spread A Little Happiness, Sting, 1982