I played a 911 fill-in job last week at a retirement home that pays me the least of all my customers. After my hour, two gents came up to me to shake my hand and tell me how much they liked the music. Two ladies sat in the path of my exit and wanted to chat and shake my hand; those songs were just right for today, I knew all the words. Finally, I woman in a wheelchair rolled up just before I left and put her arms out and had me come over for a huge hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

I get to that place every other month and, as I said, get the least amount of money. The money pales in comparison to the response I get from people like these. That's why I continue to play.