Playing for Three

Why on earth would anyone spend three months working on a piece of music and rehearsing a band, only to perform for three kind people and ten drunken fools? What kind of a genuine idiot would waste precious time that could be spent in fruitful labor or endearing relationship, by lugging heavy equipment to a bar where intoxicated buffoons ignore even the slightest semblance of art or intellect? Is there a benefit?
Who are these tiny fools who, in the inimitable words of Lawrence Ferlinghetti are, "Constantly risking absurdity" by performing night after night to utterly empty houses? I really don't know the others, but apparently I am one of them. Would it not have been better to merely perform the work in a salon for the three, rather than a barroom for the thirteen? I'm not sure and certainly these questions are largely rhetorical. I must point out, however, that there is a degree of exhilaration and (dare I say satisfaction?) to be gained from simply performing an outrageously difficult and brilliant work in any public forum. Perhaps that is a large portion of the motivation. Perhaps the response of three special people is sufficient reward. At any rate, my sincere and humble thanks go to you three truly special people for being both a public forum and an intimate circle.