A 68-year-old rocker turned 3 packed shows into a month-long food drive—1,200+ lbs collected (900 meals) through pure grassroots Renton love. 🎸❤️

 

He’s 68, Still Rocking, and Somehow Turned Loud Music Into Groceries

If you’ve ever wondered what “community” looks like when it stops being a word on a bumper sticker and becomes a verb, I can tell you: it looks like a 68-year-old man hauling donations, working the phones, taping up flyers, and walking onstage like the world still needs a chorus.

Because it does.

My husband is 68 years old and still rocking out — not in the “remember the good old days” way, but in the alive right now way. The kind that reminds you that aging isn’t the end of the story; it’s just a new chapter with better rhythm and less tolerance for nonsense.

This December, he helped lead a month-long food drive for Renton-area families in need. We anchored it with three live shows at Bourbon Jacks Honky Tonk Grill, Orient Express, and the Renton Eagles — rooms that were packed with people who came for music and left having participated in something bigger than a Friday night.

Not “Awareness.” Actual Food.

There’s a version of giving that’s mostly theater. A photo. A post. A quick “we should do something” followed by silence.

This wasn’t that.

We did it the old-school, grass-roots way — phone calls, flyers, and word of mouth. No slick campaign, no corporate sponsorship machine. Just people who believed this mattered, inviting other people to show up and do the same.

And they did.

Over the course of the month, we collected over 1,200 pounds of food — enough to provide about 900 meals for local families. That number still doesn’t feel real when I say it out loud, because it isn’t just a number. It’s breakfast. It’s a school lunch. It’s someone not having to do painful grocery math in an aisle under fluorescent lights.

The Rock Star Part Is Real. The Service Part Is the Point.

If you’re picturing a sweet older guy politely strumming in the corner, adjust the mental image.

My husband is the kind of musician who still means it. He still loves the stage. Still treats each show like it matters. Still has that spark that makes you look up and think, How are you doing this at 68? (And then immediately feel guilty about your own relationship with stairs.)

But the part that gets me isn’t just the performance. It’s what happens around it:

• The planning.

• The coordination.

• The constant “How can we make this easier for people to give?”

• The follow-through.

• The sweat equity nobody sees.

Love isn’t just a four-letter word you throw around on the way out the door. Love is the work. The “I’ll carry that box.” The “I’ll do it again next weekend.” The “I’m not done yet.”

That’s him.

A Community Effort — With a Little Extra Magic

One of my favorite parts of this story is how many people added their talent to the mission.

We were honored to have an esteemed chef from Lake Tapps’ Al Lago Restaurant support what we were doing. That kind of involvement says something important: when a community gets behind a cause, it doesn’t just donate — it contributes. Skills, time, reputation, effort. The whole heart.

And it wasn’t just one person or one venue. It was a chain reaction of “yes.”

Yes, we’ll host.
Yes, we’ll share the flyer.
Yes, we’ll bring a bag.
Yes, we’ll bring another.
Yes, we’ll tell our friends.

That’s how 1,200 pounds happens.

Renton Showed Up Like Renton Does

I’m going to say something bold: Renton is one of the most generous places I’ve ever known.

Not because it’s perfect. Not because everyone agrees on everything. But because when the moment calls for it, people show up. They bring what they can. They volunteer. They share information the old-fashioned way. They fill rooms. They do the real stuff — the stuff that doesn’t trend.

We saw it in every donation. We saw it in every person who asked, “Where should I put this?” We saw it in the staff who made room, the volunteers who stayed late, the friends who spread the word, and the strangers who didn’t stay strangers for long.

We saw it in the simplest miracle of all: people choosing each other.

What I Want This Story to Say

I want it to say you can be 68 and still be powerful.

I want it to say that live music is more than nightlife — it can be a lifeline.

I want it to say that community work isn’t reserved for people with extra money, extra time, or perfect lives. It belongs to the people who decide to do something anyway.

And I want it to say that sometimes the most “Seattle-area” thing you can do is take your art, your voice, your weird little corner of the world — and use it to feed someone.

Because the truth is: this wasn’t just a food drive.

It was proof.

Proof that there’s still good in the room.
Proof that we’re not as disconnected as we fear.
Proof that when someone says, “Let’s help,” a whole lot of people are waiting for the invitation.

If You Want to Help Next Time

We’re going to keep doing this — because need isn’t seasonal, and neither is love.

If you’d like to support future drives (donations, volunteer time, sponsorship, or just showing up), reach out or comment. We’ll share the next dates, the next venues, and the next way to turn a night out into something that lasts.

And if you see a 68-year-old rocker onstage, playing like the world still needs music… you’ll be right.

It does.

—

Details:

• Venues: Bourbon Jacks Honky Tonk Grill, Orient Express, Renton Eagles

• Total collected: 1,200+ pounds of food (≈ 900 meals)

• Special support: Chef from Al Lago Restaurant (Lake Tapps)

• Promotion: phone calls, flyers, and word of mouth (the original social network) 😊