Eight musicians, count them. All well over the age of 21. Four in their sixties. Four GenXers. All lifetime musicians. All proficient and experienced and talented enough to have made a career of music, yet their daytime jobs are thus: The drummer is an emergency room doctor; the horn section consists of a nurse, a counselor, and a dentist. The guitarist is an engineer. At the keys, a non-profit administrator with experience as a music teacher. Singing vocals and playing every auxiliary instrument one can think of is a classically trained musician turned marketing and design agent. The instructor possesses a music doctorate and spends his days wallowing in music education and arranging music for students of all ages.

They participated recently in an adult band showcase – four adult bands sampled from the twelve possible adult bands of differing skill levels at a music school boasting 800 students. Comments overheard at the showcase included such nuggets as, “hard to tell there for a minute if that wasn’t Kansas on Carry On My Wayward Son.” “These bands are ready to be gigging fulltime.” “I had no idea….”

Seriously! Who would have thought? Adults. With careers. Working professional jobs every weekday and rehearsing weeknights. Grownups who never gave up on their music. Students in a music school of 800 students. In an – anything but sleepy – little town of about 20,000.

And she – one of the multitude of graying baby-boomers – she is so fortunate to live in a music town; a town musical and savvy and bohemian enough to support a music school; a school that reveres rock and jazz and classical excellence. A school that has rehearsal studio space and instructors and arrangers and gear and instruments and show contacts and a gig trailer and a roster of better musicians to play with.