Man… happy anniversary to me. Ten years of hittin’ that Go Live button. September 2015, I pressed it for the first time, and lord have mercy, what a ride it’s been.
I told myself back then: thirty minutes a day. That’s the deal. Didn’t matter if I was sick, broke, or down in the mud—I showed up. Missed a few here and there, sure, but 99% of the time? I was right there in the pocket. And along the way, thousands—maybe hundreds of thousands—peeked in through that little livestream window. Said hello. Stayed a while. Left a piece of themselves with me.
I still remember my first visitor. A young cat named Danner Cronice. He still drops in sometimes. Second one was Rock Alley, a queen outta New Orleans—I hear she may have passed on. Rest her soul. Then there was Fat Pipe, rollin’ on two wheels, who even came to one of my local shows downtown. Paid the cover, stood in the crowd, hollered at me after. That’s love.
And it didn’t stop there. Folks from all over came through. Showed up at gigs. Walked up at festivals and said, “Ain’t you Brother Ric?” That outreach? It’s bigger than me. And it’s beautiful.
Now here’s the thing—most people don’t make it this far. Ten years of anything is no small feat. A lotta folks had the fire, had the passion, but the road wore ’em down. The long haul will test you, break you, shake you. But I’m still here. Still standing. Still streamin’.
And maybe you’re reading this thinking about going live yourself. Maybe you want that kind of reach. Maybe you got something to say, something to share, something the world needs to hear. But I know—you’re scared of that button. I was too. Hell, I still feel it every time I press it. That whisper: You ain’t ready. You ugly today. Clothes ain’t right. Got nothin’ to say. Folks gonna laugh.
Those ghosts of fear? They’re always there. The trick is hittin’ that button anyway. Letting your truth roll out, even if your hands are shaking. That’s how you grow. That’s how you reach. That’s how you find your people.
One day I’ll write the book on it—how to livestream scared and do it anyway. How to keep pressing “go live” until it feels like home. I think it’ll help some of y’all.
But for now? Let’s celebrate. Ten damn years. Ten years of the Blues Room. Still open. Still swingin’. Still strong.
And we ain’t stopping. We’re launching Fat Mule Records—a collector’s label, limited edition, culture captured in wax. Step high. Keep that mule pulling.
Happy anniversary, Blues Room. Happy anniversary to us all. Thank you, each and every one of you who ever clicked in, hollered back, or just sat quiet in the corner. I felt you. I see you.
God bless you. And let’s keep rollin’.