Peace. Hope. Love.

The holiday gigs are, for the most part, completed. It's a tough month and a half for me and my band. Most of the corporate gigs we do are for people/companies I've known for some time, and though they normally treat us very well, it still becomes a bit exhausting - mentally and physically - playing a large amount of gigs in a short amount of time with four guys in a band who alternate between liking and wanting to kill one another.

My band and I did our last "official" holiday performance last Saturday (we've got a handful of club dates left in the month, followed by a New Year's celebration). After a pretty tough six weeks of corporate gigs, I was looking forward to finishing up the holiday gig checklist and winding down a bit.

This last gig was for my hometown of Laguna Hills, California, and was literally within a one-minute walking time from my house. We performed in the middle of a huge park (part of the reason I bought the house in this particular neighborhood), for an event the City of Laguna Hills puts on every year - their "Holiday Hay Ride." Families from all over town - close to 1,000 people - come to see Santa, play games, sit on haystacks by warm fires, eat a bunch of great food, take in some live music and take a ride in a huge hay cart pulled by two enormous horses.

The band's stage was decorated with Christmas trees, packages, candy, you name it. It was really, really festive. Before we played one note - even when we had a few small problems with the electrical (which the staff fixed and did a terrific job of it) - I had this amazing feeling. What brought it on? Especially at the end of a tough stretch of gigs? It was a combination of playing for the home crowd, seeing so many of my friends and neighbors, taking in all the decorations and doing something really cool for my home town.

When the sun went down, the lights went up - every single tree surrounding the stage was lit with beautiful Christmas lights. That was it for me. Everything that playing so many gigs in such a short time brings - sore knees, raw throat, aches and pains, band tension, fatigue and the prospect of playing the same songs - melted away.

I was, truly, awash in the pure joy and all the wonderful things Christmas brings with it. Community. Unselfishness. A child's sense of wonderment and awe. Peace. Love. I felt this amazing joy, a happiness that just kept building. I could NOT wipe the smile off my face - and frankly, I didn't want to anyway.

We live in cynical times. Our leaders are liars and inept, our world burning down like a candle, things cost too much, we don't trust one another and it seems like there's no end in sight to the sorrow we ourselves have created and encouraged. But on that Saturday night, in and for the City of Laguna Hills, California - for those moments, when I sang and stared out at the trees lit with a million tiny stars - when I looked at my community being together, laughing together, celebrating together - when I watched the children who danced and sang with no preconceived notions about skill level or who they needed to impress...they danced and sang because they just couldn't contain their happiness...

...I was filled with a hope and love more powerful than I can ever describe.

Thank you, Laguna Hills.