I’ve been worried for weeks. I even had a nightmare about, of all things, spaghetti. Whenever I expressed my concerns, which was often, I was assured that things usually work out.

The thing I was worried about was the Clarkston Community Band’s concert this last Friday evening. You all know I’m a natural worrier and I generally hold pre-concert jitters inside as the performance time approaches.

But this was different because we weren’t just responsible for the music. This time we were attempting our very first fundraiser, and feeding 100+ people a spaghetti dinner while we were playing music from around the world.

And so I imagined the worst case situations. Most of which revolved around food and getting said food to the venue, and cooked and presented to our guests while most of us were busy, dressed in our concert blacks, playing music.

You know…playing the fiddle while Rome burned. But that’s a different story.

Many of the band members arrived at 4 to help set up the venue, a large room, essentially a gym, at a local church. The kitchen was at one end of the room, and we arranged the other end as a concert stage. In between we set up 16 round tables, eight chairs to a table, complete with table cloths, a candle and a flowering plant.

By 5 almost the entire band had arrived, many people taking time off from work to settle into our role as hosts and musicians. We tested the sound as we warmed up, tuned, played a few difficult transitions. Surprisingly, in such a large room filled with hard surfaces bouncing the sound around, we were pleased by what we heard.

The food was being warmed in the kitchen, the room looked great, the musicians were relaxed. I started to let my shoulders down just a bit.

The doors opened at 6 and there was a line of people waiting to get in! As we greeted our guests I finally let the nightmares go. Regardless of how the spaghetti got from the kitchen to the table we were ready. It was, as everyone had assured me, going to work out.

And it did.

The place was packed, every seat filled and more people sitting along the sides. The music was fun, our guests were engaged, the atmosphere was casual, spaghetti and meatballs eventually made it out to the tables and at the end everybody ate cake.

I’m so proud of our group. A couple weeks before we had only sold 14 tickets, had no volunteers for essential duties and some of the music was pretty rough.

But, as always, we pulled together. Everybody pitched in, hauled tables and chairs, set up the silent auction tables, unloaded percussion from the box truck, heated food, delivered meatballs to the tables, played music, cleaned the kitchen, packed up percussion, put away tables and chairs, emptied the trash and smiled all the way through.

And our 100+ guests smiled, too, as they walked out into the darkened parking lot, humming, I’m sure, bits of Funiculi, Funicula or Hey Jude, or Live and Let Die, or the Stars and Stripes.

In fact I’m still humming some of that myself.

PS: I just listened to the sound recording of the concert. Man, that was a fun one. And listening to the audience sing Hey Jude when the band cut out…that just made my heart smile. What a good time.