by Gina Ronat

Created on: May 27, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Ah, I love that limelight. Unfortunately, I don't get enough of it. I am in a band with four other Baby Boomers, but we all have day jobs that tend to interfere with scheduling gigs.

I love singing with my band. There is no feeling in the world that compares to getting up in front of an audience and performing the music that I love. When I am performing, I watch the people as they begin to get into it, bobbing their heads and swaying to the beat, then hearing the applause and seeing the smiles on their faces. The more enthusiastic the crowd is, the more energetic the music becomes.

There is a power in that moment that makes me feel like I could rule the world. Standing up there, everything else that I've done before this moment today is brushed aside as unimportant and it ALL comes down to performing the music. The crowd feeds off me and I feed off them. The energy is high, everyone feels it, and all the pieces fall into place perfectly. I finish the set with the band and step down from the stage to get a drink, and people pat me on the back, shake my hand or give me a big hug. They tell me how great we sounded and how much they love the music. My heart swells with pride and I have a deep sense of accomplishment and fulfillment and satisfaction. It is officially a great day.

At the age of 48, I have been around music all my life and it has always been integral to who I am. I was actively involved in music throughout my school years and into college. And. Then. Nothing. It all got placed on hold.

So what happened? Well, I guess I became a responsible adult. Subequently, life got a bit distracting. I got a regular job like everyone else, got married, had a family. I did all the things that grown-ups are expected to do in an everyday, normal, American middle class world. And I excelled and accomplished much as an adult, not the least of which was making sure three children made it to the age of maturity without any permanent scars. The music, however, got lost in the shuffle. Somewhere along the line, I forgot what it was like to perform.

Thankfully, a few years ago, I met some new friends who were and still are as passionate about music as I am. We were all reasonably successful in our own lives, but not one of us had much in the way of a creative outlet for our musical passion, which was good progressive rock music. And so we got to talking about it. Since we no longer had to worry about ferrying the kids to cheerleader practice, verifying homework, or attending

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