Story About a Man Named Bill

This is the story about a man named Bill Brink.


It’s also an invite to a Feb. 23 coffeehouse in Springfield Vt.

The two are related.

One fine Saturday in January, on our way to Chester, Vt., my partner, Lee, decided to treat me to lunch at the venerable Putney Inn.

When quizzed, the waitress clued us in to a Saturday night open mic, and that night we headed down.

George, who runs the open mic, was nowhere to be found, but the gracious hostess invited me to help her set up the modest PA and play to the few tables populated with transient guests.

No sooner had I said, “Sure!” than Bill Brink appeared, generously offering to mike up my old-fashioned Yamaha and otherwise share round-robin sets with me.

As we chatted it soon became apparent that Bill, who lives in Perkinsville, Vt., knew many of my New London music friends, having tried out open mics like the one at the Bulkeley House downtown. He also had just appeared on Dot Neilson’s radio show, Gramma’s Attic, on WCNI.

A friendship was born. One that could have been fleeting. Except that, well, after we finished three sets each and called it a night, Bill said he had a gig coming up in Springfield the following weekend, would we like to come?

Sure, we said.

The attached photo is a picture from Bill’s two-hour concert, in which he played originals, covers, and a bunch of not-for-prime time theme songs from syndicated TV shows, much to everyone’s amusement and delight.

As we shared chips and tea and various intermission goodies, Bill did a thing both gentlemanly and generous: he invited me to play at the next coffeehouse.

So come on down. Bill will introduce me. And, apart from my CD-release party a few years back, this is the longest solo gig I’ve had in a while! We just have to hope another Blizzard Nemo isn’t in the forecast.

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