I remember the first gig I played for one traumatic reason. But can I tell you the year it happened? No, not without research. The day? Probably a Saturday, but I’d have to check. Anything about the setlist? Ummm, it had songs on it, yes.

The main memory is this: On the first note, of the first song, I managed to break a mandolin string. Normally, this is not a huge deal to fix, but on my instrument, I’ve got this special tailpiece (the thing that strings are mounted on) that requires about 45 minutes of surgical precision work to get the string back on. It was a memorable gig. And everytime I change strings, I think about that gig.