Assignment #8- Ellis Padgett- Me & Jean-Pierre: Kings of the Stage

Fears: being alone, never completing something meaningful, bad accidents, life-changing illness
Annoyances: bad drivers, selfishness, narrow-mindedness, pretentiousness, mean people
Accomplishments: writing and performing music, writing screenplays, chamber orchestra
Confusions: politics
Sorrows: not working on what I truly want to work on, not being more involved in my community
Dreams: job I love, surrounded by people I love, a family, steady income, write a book
Idiosyncrasies: writing songs during math class, very particular about my pens and highlighters
Risks: performing a song I had never played at a french music festival
Beloved Possessions: my books (then), my instruments and two dogs (now)
Problems: balancing school with personal goals

On a chilly Friday night in Honfleures, France I found myself eating a waffle at 1 A.M. I'd lost my exchange student and her family (again), and had resolved to just enjoy the atmosphere until someone found me. They usually did.
But the atmosphere was the very opposite of calm. No- I sat in front of a giant spinning carousel next to a booth that blasted rave music with flashing lights. Across the harbor was a karaoke event with its own large crowd cheering it on. This was Fete de la Musique: a giant two-day music festival in June that took place among all of France. So I sat back, ate my waffle, and enjoyed.
My family did eventually find me, and we went back to our house. I was informed we would be returning to the festival tomorrow. Fine by me! More waffles. Saturday night I was prepped in my borrowed jacket and scarf, ready to face the music. My family was even bringing their acoustic guitar that I'd been toying with along...interesting.
Only a few minutes down the street, we pulled over. Confused to say the least, I asked where we were. "Fete de la Musique!" my correspondent Julie told me. We were at her town's annual celebration, she said (that was the moment I found out that I had been living in a town called Tourville En Auge, not Deauville. I knew very little). 
I followed my family into a medium sized backyard, where about ten people stood. It was still relatively early in the evening. I waited patiently for an entire french village to show up. And they eventually did- all twenty of them.
Julie led me to a table, where we ate french fries (in France, how cool!) while she told me about her village characters. "See that guy?'" she said, "he is a cas-soc."
"A what?"
We consulted google translate. "A social outcast." Dang, Julie.
We continued like this, with me slowly pooling my knowledge of people. Julie told me all about her town- the woman who had an affair, the weird guy by the grill, and more. But none of them even approached the coolness of Jean-Pierre.
A band climbed up onto the little stage, headed by none other than Jean-Pierre himself. And for four hours we were blessed with his voice.
Let me be clear: Jean-Pierre can in no way shape or form sing. But that didn't stop Julie and I from clapping and enjoying the show. It was a very nice evening, we danced, we had fun, I accidentally ate sheep again. But then Jean-Pierre decided he needed a break and well, they hadn't booked a band for intermission.
"Ellis plays guitar and sings!"
Uh-oh. I panicked. I like music a lot, but I am no Taylor Swift.
"Go get the guitar from the trunk."
I looked at the keys extended to me, and I looked around. And I said to hell with it! This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and a fun one with that. So with the spirit of Jean-Pierre guiding me, I took the stage. First I performed Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side" (a cover inspired by Alice Phoebe Lou). Jean-Pierre stood with a camera in my face the whole time. They were a kind crowd...so kind that they told me to do another.
What song should I pick for my encore? My racing brain answered, Oh, do the one you've never played or sung before!
So I changed the tuning, smacked on my capo and began to play Jason Isbell's "Relatively Easy" (fantastic song by the way). And boy did I butcher it! My hands were numb from the cold and confused by the unfamiliar chords, and my mouth scrambled with incorrect words that filled up the unfamiliar bridge. I skipped to the end.
And boom! I was done. I hurried off the stage, commended by my fellow neighbors, and Jean-Pierre took up the stage again. I laughed, knowing I didn't do as well as I would have liked, but happy I did it all the same. The words weren't a big deal- I could've spoken gibberish and no one would have known!
Later in the night I found myself on stage again, this time with Julie and her mom, presenting an astounding rendition of "Champs d'Elysee" with Jean-Pierre. Then I had the difficult task of explaining the premise of "When the Saints Go Marching In" while we listened to Jean-Pierre sing it (in English). Interesting choice.
At the end of the night, a woman approached me. Her son had done the exchange, she told me, and he and his correspondent are still friends today. "But not like you all," she motioned to Julie and I, "You all are truly an incredible match and will be friends for a very long time."
She said one last thing to me before we left. "And I think it is great how you are so open-minded!" Not the best thing you want to hear after a performance- but hey, I'll take it!