Papa’s favorite band was called The Fiddle Way. They’re a folk band from
Quebec City, Quebec, and he had always wanted to see them live. I don’t know
why he couldn’t go up to Canada where they always played, but I think it had
something to do with his job. I think the stuff he was working on made it so
that his bosses didn’t want him to leave the country without their
permission. One time in the winter of 2011, though, The Fiddle Way decided
to have a show in New Hampshire, which isn’t too far away from Quebec City.
My dad and I never found out which airport he flew into, but it was really
far away from where the band was going to play. He had to rent a car from
there, and drive for a couple of hours all the way up north until he reached
Lancaster, New Hampshire. It wasn’t actually only this one band. A whole
bunch of them were playing outside over the weekend. It was called the
Lancaster Cabot Music Festival. Papa didn’t care about any of the other
bands, though. He only wanted to hear The Fiddle Way, so he wandered around
until it was time for them. It took place kind of in the middle of the
woods, so there was plenty of room to walk around. He said he sat by a river
for a while, and just enjoyed being in nature. It was really late at night
when the band started to play, and by the time he made it back to his hotel
room, all he had time for was a shower, and then he had to drive back to the
airport to fly home in the morning. He barely made it to his gate on time.
He regrets paying for two nights when he only needed one.
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