The year I did Pineapple Willy’s was a big deal. If you were a local kid, you had one of their sandcastle buckets. Your parents had at least one branded cup with an interesting looking pineapple on it.
And I was a local girl playing the stage next to the infamous alligator.
I enjoyed the gig. One of the rare spots you can play Sweet Caroline and the “ba-ba-ba” is deafening. Go ahead and cringe. My tip jar doesn’t care.
But one day a mother came up to me and said, “You both are amazing. Can I ask you to play something?”
“Sure. If we know it.” I said, smiling.
“Heading South by Zach Bryan.”
“Ooo.” I said, looking at Eli. “We don’t normally play country. We do more rock and roll.”
She looked disappointed. “What if I told you it’s for a very special girl?”
“Depends on the girl.” I laughed.
The mother pointed at her daughter. “My husband just passed. Her father.” She looked back at me. “It was his favorite song.”
I felt the request in my soul. I looked at Eli, he was already looking up the chords.
I looked around the venue. It’s a tourist venue. Happy vibes. Good times. Whatever you do, don’t break the vibes.
“Yeah. We’ll play it. Give me a minute to familiarize myself with the song.”
I didn’t know it. I stepped outside and listened to it once while Eli took a song.
I came back in and waved at the mom. She sat with her little girl in her lap.
I took the mic. “Hey y’all. This next song is a request. It’s for a very special little lady.”
Eli played the guitar and I sang the song.
The table, of course, melted into tears. The little girl held her momma and her momma held her right back.
Other tables stopped their chatter and looked over to see what was going on. Whispers explained the situation.
The room quieted down listening to the song until it was over.
Applause rang out. The mom and daughter hid their faces.
“Like I said, ‘That’s for a very special little lady.’”
There are some things you don’t say no to as a musician. Some requests that are too important.
The family came up during our break and thanked us, hugging each of us and talking about the father and husband they lost.
And maybe we weren’t “supposed to” in one context. But in another? It was the right thing to do.