Monday, December 17, 2018

HO! HO! HO!


I think I was talking to myself out loud as I searched the muddy ground below the deck, in the freezing rain, looking for the little cloth squares that had fallen down:

I’m soaking wet... I think I have bird poop all over my hands... If I ever see one more Command strip I might cry... I wonder if these alcohol wipes are biodegradable... These lights are staying up until summer, dammit! My fingers are so cold they don’t work anymore... If those hooks don’t stick because they’re wet, I’ll have to just wrap the damn lights around the deck railing like I might’ve done in the first place. Why didn’t I? It was probably just because THAT would’ve been too easy... No, they would’ve been covered in snow that way... Fine. I need one more of those outdoor plug covers, that it took five Home Depot workers to figure out how to open, and one longer extension cord before I can actually hang the outdoor lights. Maybe tomorrow. I might’ve had it done yesterday, but the toilet clogged and Roto-Rooter had to come because Zach was napping and I threw out the plunger the last time it happened! Actually, come to think of it, I might not have done this at all if I hadn’t needed to go buy a plunger so THAT doesn’t happen again ($255 bucks later). I only managed to get Zach off his bike and into the car yesterday by getting him excited about going out to buy Christmas decorations! Maybe I’ll find that last alcohol wipe in the spring... “So what’s the number? Stomp! Stomp! What’s the number? Stomp! Stomp! What is the numberrr-er-er… ” 

I was intermittently singing because despite all the Christmas carols swirling around in the air, THIS is the song stuck in my head:


Argh! I just realized that if I post this, I will wreck the surprise, that the outdoor lights were going to be, for Russ when he comes home. Oh well.


Zachary woke up, got changed, ate a snack, and “helped” me put batteries in the animated plush toys as my conversation with myself went internal:

I can’t drink any more milk. If we run out, I can’t get to the store before my coat comes out of the dryer. Meanwhile, I hope this gig dress survives the washing machine. (It was supposed to be dry-cleaned). Where’d that nutcracker figurine go? If it’s on the floor, Bentley might eat it. There it is on the trampoline! (It had been on the piano).


“Uh oh. MOMMY! COME!” (OMG What!!??)

It’s ok. It was just that his monster trucks were stuck under the bed where no one can reach them and I had to get the “grabber” to fetch them.

Welcome to my life. 



I really don’t have long. He’s finished with his Cheerios now and has hung up on Daddy, who was FaceTiming, live from the stage, at the show in… (I don’t even know what country). Well, I did manage to eat a couple of cookies before he woke up from his nap anyway – and the hooks are up outside. That’s some accomplishment. 


HO! HO! HO! Here we are at Christmas time again! I have about five minutes at any given point in time to do ANYTHING – as do moms everywhere this week. Here’s wishing you all survival and laughter in this homestretch before Christmas. 
#HereWeGo

Argh!!! He is dumping water all over the couch from his sippy cup. 
Ok Bye. Xoxo

Xoxo (I said that already, didn't I?)

Namaste,
T

Monday, December 10, 2018

"Playing" for a Living

Why is it that we are surprised when things we already know present themselves to us in a new and fresh manner?


I feel like I already knew this one. I did. I swear I did. A lot of people "work" for a living. Musicians "play" a gig. Maybe we should start saying that we work at a gig so that people will understand the amount of effort that goes into it - and that's not even including the literal blood, sweat and tears! Or we could just remember that not everyone will see what we do as "work" at all (the price we pay for making it look easy). This subject has come up repeatedly this week, and from totally different groups of people.

ATTENTION TO THOSE STARTING OUT AS SINGERS/MUSICIANS:


You will have to work harder than almost anyone else you know.

Life is not fair.

You have no sick days.

You don't get paid if you're sick.

You can't get sick.

You don't get weekends or holidays off.

You might not always get to eat.

No, you may not take a bathroom break just because you have to.

You must stay hydrated.

You might not always get to sleep.

You still have to look and act like you are well rested and energized.

You must be kind and friendly to everyone.

Do NOT make any mistakes.

You will constantly be judged.

Your body is part of your instrument. Workouts and health maintenance are not luxuries. They are a requirement.

You must look well put together at all times - even with little or no budget.

Your gig clothing is NOT tax deductible - I don't care HOW much you have to spend on it.

You must keep and keep track of all your receipts.

No one is going to tell you to do your homework.

Your homework MUST be done.

You must act like you know what you are doing even when you have no clue what is going on.

OTHER PEOPLE WILL NOT UNDERSTAND THIS AND THAT DOESN'T MATTER.

People will see your pictures and videos and think you are just having a grand ol' time "playing."

There will be times when you cry.

This is your business.

No one will make you get to the office on time.

You will lose money if you don't get to the office on time.

You must get to the office before and stay later than anyone else.

After your office hours, you will also have to practice.

There is no personal time off.

Personal problems are not allowed.

Other people will not view your work as "important." They will not understand the sacrifices you have to make.

You are exceptionally important.

You are a world leader.

Your success will vary depending on the importance you place on all of these factors. 

Your success will vary anyway.

(This list can go on and on indefinitely.)

I had the privilege of performing with two fantastic bands this weekend! The musicians were all talented and truly wonderful people. It was a lot of work getting to Albany, then Baltimore and back - but it was absolutely worth all the effort. Great fun playing with you all this weekend! xoxo


With Lance (Drums)
With Apollo Joe

Namaste,
T

Monday, December 3, 2018

New Angel

Every once in a while a fantastic and clever blog idea just pops into my head. Then I might get hit in the face with a spoonful of SpaghettiOs and the thought is lost forever. This is one of those weeks. As I sit here trying to recall some long forgotten blog idea, the actual course of events is what comes to mind.

Traveling over 800 miles by car with a toddler was a daunting task to undertake, especially when there was an impending snowstorm and a funeral involved. We made it to my Uncle Ted's service and those closest to him agreed that he would have loved having the children there. Zachary informed some in attendance that Uncle Ted went to "go be an Angel." He doesn't really understand what that means, but he knew beforehand that some people might be sad, that we were going to give them a hug, and that it was mainly because Uncle Ted had gone to be an Angel. We didn't emphasize that we were saying "goodbye" because I didn't want him yelling "Bye Bye Uncle Ted" in the middle of the church service. I wanted to give him a sense of what was happening in a way he could understand without freaking him or anyone else out.

He was very well behaved throughout the services and during the journey itself. He was eager to help me - even when it was late and he was tired. It was heartwarming how he assisted me with the suitcases at hotels. He had a whole host of new experiences and embraced them all, while bringing smiles to the faces of almost everyone we met. For the first time, he walked into an elevator, stayed at a hotel, ate Indian food, and got up close to a very big train. Uncle Ted was exceptionally fond of trains, so it was particularly appropriate that we stopped at a restaurant that was also a train. At the second hotel (on the way home), there was a Christmas tree in the lobby and we noticed the pretty angel on top.





Rest peacefully Uncle Ted. We Love you.

Namaste,
T & Z