Our respective pandemic experiences have added new meaning to the expression DIY.

Not only do we think of replacing the bathroom vanity or mounting speakers in the kitchen as constituting a DIY project, some of us have taken a more active role in supervising a child’s schooling or learning how to manage lighting for home office zoom meetings.

Motivated by necessity, many of us have come to realize that if you want something done, you’ll probably have to “Do It Yourself.”

But DIY concerts?  This was a new one for me.

DIY: BYOC (Bring Your Own Chair)

About two weeks ago, on a walk with my dog India, I started to notice colored handbills stapled to trees. I felt compelled to study them.

I expected to see announcements about a garage sale, details about whether furniture and appliances would need to find a new home or whether a family was just trying to lighten itself of old books and kids clothes that were outgrown long ago.

Instead, I saw details about a Sunday afternoon concert set to take place on a front lawn of a brick bungalow only blocks from where I live. I remember planting the thought in my mind that I wanted to check it out.

At around 4:00 on the appointed date, on a very hot afternoon, India and I walked to the address noted on the handbill.

I had heard of such gatherings taking place regularly on Sunday afternoons in Logan Square last summer. A homeowner offered his lawn and sound system. Musicians gathered to make music and to remind people that there was still life going on. I believe this type of event happened in a variety of neighborhoods.

People brought their own refreshments, children, pets and chairs. Observing COVID guidelines, the DIY neighborhood concerts that were held last summer featured stricter guidelines about distancing. As most people in my neighborhood were quick to get vaccinated, the scene at  my neighborhood’s concert looked like it could have taken place any year.

People spread out their chairs, talked casually to each other, and applauded the musicians. Despite the heat, a few people got up to dance.  Some with masks. Some wearing smiles.

The homemade posters that led me to the address noted that the featured performer was going to be Lynne Jordan, a popular vocalist in Chicago, not your nephew’s garage band.

Lynne arrived late, but her band, The Shivers, kept the gathering entertained with blues, disco, and pop favorites. After an Uber, an economical hatchback, delivered the diva to the gathering, she explained that she had to wait until the demand fluctuating surcharge had passed before heading to the gig because of the cost.

A connection was quickly established with the crowd. We could all relate to such transportation dilemmas.  So much for the glamor of show business.

I carried a white wine spritzer in a turquoise water bottle and settled in a chair across the street from the band. I made small talk with neighbors. I bopped my head along with the beat as Lynne belted out a rendition of Whitney’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody”

Boomers beamed upon hearing familiar tunes. Young fathers danced with their sun-dressed and sun drenched daughters. The song didn’t matter to them, but, I imagine, realizing how fast children grow up, they wanted to imprint the moment in their memories.

I laughed at the sophistication of donation solicitations involved in such a DIY concert. They had a bucket for cash but also made a sign for sending donations via Zelle or Venmo.

I was so happy…

• Hanging out with neighbors, even ones I didn’t know by name.
• Being around children and the vibe of spontaneity.
• Listening to live music, supporting musicians (acknowledging that the pandemic has been especially hard on them and finding a way to help them).
• Enjoying entertainment where you‘re invited to give what you can.
• Somebody chose to arrange this concert…

DIY joy is no small thing.