My Fifteen Minutes (okay maybe forty)

I finally have time to write down the saga....

Wednesday night we were interviewed by Channel 6 news and met Karl the awesome videographer (found out he is a musician too). I wanted to decline the interview, but instead found myself listening to, "Okay don't look at the camera, just look at me, what is your name and how do you spell it?" I still haven't seen the tape but my sister says I actually spoke some coherent words.

The next day we met again to rehearse, have some video taken, and then load up for the Common Ground Music Festival.

After a very strange vehicle procession of three cars trying to stay together, lost parking passes and the assurance that we could "talk ourselves in", we finally made it to the grounds, and unbelievably talked ourselves in! Apparently an SUV filled with amps, guitars and music stands was enough to fool the security guards.

Except...one band member, stranded at the Saginaw gate and not allowed to come in. I have to say that I will take full credit for rescuing him (commandeering a security golf cart and rushing out to get him while fielding frantic phone calls from the stage saying, "where are you? where's Greg? we're doing the sound check NOW!" )

I may also have to take full credit for getting him stuck out there in the first place, but let's not dwell on the negative...

I ended up going onstage, grabbing a crewhand (they were so great) and pointed out my rig, "I have the 1x12, the 2x10, and this amp. I have to go retrieve a lost bandmate, can you just set it up for me?"
He was on it.
I was on it.
I plucked two credentials passes from Thom and dashed off to save the day.

Finally, we were on stage for the sound check, and did all that jazz. I had my camera with me, and decided to forego the cool rockstar persona in favor of waving wildly whenever I saw a friend in the audience and snapping pictures of them, the sound people, the stage, the gathering crowd, the rafters of the hugongous stage...I was a geek. At one point I accidentally stepped on Greg's guitar pedal and something very very bad happened. A very very loud, very very bad sound reverberated through the echoing canyon of a spectator area. I quickly shut it off and made my sad worried face at Greg but he just shrugged and said supportively, "Glad I didn't do that."



I was also texting my yaya and suddenly looked down to see a picture of them on my phone, standing next to the Common Ground sign. The text said, "Do you really think your yaya would miss this??" They came. Diane from Georgia, swooping in and gathering up Joann so that at this very cool moment we could all be together.

Sorta.
I had to get back to the sound stuff and oh yeah I had a set to do!

But first, supper.

We went to this big tent with a huge spread of all sorts of free stuff to eat. I love free food.
I was standing undecidedly by the drink table when this girl comes up to me and says, "Where's the water?" She had a little ponytail, no makeup, jogging shorts, and looked like she really needed some water. I shrugged, "I don't know," I said. She gestured to the igloo container on the table and said, "Is that water?" I said, "No I think that's fruit punch or something."

And thus ends my entire conversation with Sheryl Crow.
Memorable.

Only I didn't know it was Sheryl Crow at the time.
Thus my stunning repartee.

Sheryl Crow has long blond hair in ringlets.
And she's tall and glamorous.
She's not tiny and cute and regular looking.

Only she is.

Keeping in mind that I had no idea who had just asked me for water, I went to sit down with my bandmates in order to poke my salmon, push my sweet potato slices around on my plate, and gnaw on the pineapple upside down cake, feeling slightly ill but in a good, probably-not-going-to-throw-up kind of way.

I glanced over at the table next to us and then whispered to Jon, "Hey, I think that's Sheryl Crow's bassist." I had done my research and checked him out on her website before the gig. "Yeah, probably so," he says, noting that Sheryl Crow is sitting right next to the guy...

Yes, I saw the tiny ponytail girl sitting there, but I didn't connect the dots.

Later in the dressing room Jon would say, "You mean you recognized Sheryl Crow's bassist but you didn't recognize Sheryl Crow?"

Yes, that would be me, over here in the dork corner.


Speaking of the dressing room, oh my goodness there was a dressing room!
More free food. Free snacks!
Just lead me to the tiny Snickers, the cold bottled water and the soda my dahlings...

I was just standing there enjoying the moment, when another band entered the trailer. They had a room on the other side and we shared the common room. Only they weren't hunkered over the free food panting and fanning themselves, they were solely intent on primping.

And primp they did. I looked down at my outfit, which I had thought fairly stylish and watched the girl singer talk about how she needed TWO HOURS to do her hair and makeup. She had a miniskirt and really long boots and really long hair. She had two girlfriends hovering over her with mascara wands and curling irons.

I had fanned my armpits, lined my eyes and dusted my face with powder to get rid of shine.
Yes, stylin.

Anyway, we dashed out the door and they wished us good luck while adding a couple of extra feet to their already amazingly extended eyelashes. I think I felt one brush my back as I tottered out the door in my sensible shoes.

Well I could go on and on.

Anyway, we played the set and it was amazing - the crowd was so great - the drummers played their heads off (pun intended), we all smiled and just enjoyed the vastness of the moment. It was over way way way too quickly.

After the gig it was so great to be able to pull my yaya backstage for a few minutes, and then to just hang out with the band - enjoying some of Sheryl's show, staying too long at IHOP to just wind down (and to get some food, I was suddenly starving, and kept worrying that my platter would not be large enough,) but oh, viva la french toast it was GOOD at 1am!!

Some of the band members...I have no idea why they are holding shorts.


My yaya...



The entire day was so so so good.
One that I will not likely forget very soon.

My favorite part?

All of the well wishes from friends and family, and those amazing people who actually spent their hard-earned money on tickets for this event!

Wow, talk about cool.
Now THAT's cool.

I'm feelin' the love.


peace!

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For more pics, go here
or visit my facebook profile!

The Daily Grind

Things to do today:

Stake the tomatoes
Scrub the upstairs toilet
Open for Sheryl Crow

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Camp

I went through some papers in my cupboard and found
a very old packing list for our annual camping trip.
I figured it could come in handy for the family and posted it on the fridge.

Many overheard giggles later,
I peered over the children's heads to read:

"Water Wings"
and
"Pull-ups"

Ohhh...doesn't seem that long ago.

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Sheryl Crow

Doesn't she look like a nice person?
Wouldn't you just like to have her over for dinner some night?

Or failing to accomplish that, wouldn't it be cool if your band could open for her
on the main stage at the Common Ground Music Festival
at 7pm on Thursday, July 9th?

That's what I thought too.
I really like her.

Check the festival out here.

Or you can check out our band here.

Peace!

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Haven't Posted

Here is something precious.

And Happy 4th of July!

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It Could Be Worse

I was feeling a twinge of guilt tonight,
making supper,
feeding them some instant mashed potatoes instead of the real stuff.

But I felt way better after reading this tasty recipe on the back of the box:


Barbecue Meatballs:

In medium microwaveable casserole,
microwave 1 lb frozen cooked meatballs
on High about 4 min or until hot.
Stir in about 1 cup barbecue sauce.
Cook 1 min longer.


I read it like three times before I realized
that was it.


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Thanks, Man

A special thank you goes out tonight
to the man who said, "G'bye Dan,"
before he walked out the back door of the music store today.

Dan leaned his head out and said, "Hey, aren't you Kulio?"
when I knocked on the repair room doorjamb to
get somebody's attention, and to ask if Chauncey was around.

He remembered my name.

I met him once a long time ago and he did me a big favor by
fixing my speaker cords for free,
and another time he took apart my amp and almost saved it,
apologizing that he couldn't.

Such a nice guy,
stuck back there in the dark workroom,
the kind of guy who doesn't get a lot of praise or recognition for his talent.

And I could not remember his name.

But the man who was just leaving,
he said it aloud, and shook Dan's hand,
with manners and kindness.

Saved.

"Hey Dan,"
I said,
and we chatted for a little while.

Thank you, wherever you are.

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Casual Cool

I keep waiting for somebody to notice the awesome bruise on my shin
so that I can tell them I got it riding my son's skateboard.

I'm pretty sure my son would rather I keep that info to myself.

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Humility

There is nothing more humbling than
a conversation with an honest child.

When twin boy was eight,
he stumbled into the bathroom unexpectedly
and the first words from his mouth were,
"Don't worry, Mom! I won't laugh!"

It's good to know that the first emotion my nakedness produces
is barely suppressed laughter.

And then at times, without warning
I find myself looking down into the large eyes of a small person
who has silently appeared by my side to comment with awe and wonder,

"You ate that really fast."

The truth about my body, my actions,
my private blunders and my humanness
are revealed through the smiling candor of the children around me.

Innocent observations about
wrinkles, moles, white lies,
hidden laundry piles, poor driving skills
and whether or not I had my eyes closed during prayer.

All of that, accepted with blind love and
small hands patting me on the back.

Yesterday twin boy made an important query
on our paddle boat ride in the middle of Lake Lansing.
I saw that he was glancing down at the specifications label
next to the steering rudder,

"Mom,"
he said, reading about the 900 lb limit,

"how much do you weigh?"

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A Special Day

Odd circumstances created a sudden dilemma:
three of the children were destined for Cedar Point,
and one was left out.

I asked boy twin, "Do you want to go too?"

"Or would you like to stay home and have a special day with me?"

He did not hesitate.
Special Day.

Now my idea of a special day would be to wake slowly,
loll in bed, sip coffee and stay in our pajamas for too long.
We would walk the dog downtown to get ice cream.
We would read books companionably, side by side on the couch.
We would inspect the garden together,
eat lunch on the deck, and chat about important things.

My idea was not the same as twin boy's idea.

He made a list.

And this is what we did...

Target cafe, for pb&j, slushy, coffee and a muffin:

Action figure and Hot Wheels browsing.
Water balloons purchase.
IMAX theatre, to see Night at the Museum II.
19 holes of Miniature Golf:

10 tokens spent at an Arcade:



Breakfast at IHOP (3pm).
Lake Lansing Park:







French Fries and Cheerios for supper.
A game of Scrabble (he won).
A walk downtown with the dog for ice cream.

He thinks we should have a Special Day more often.
I think...
that I will sleep well tonight.

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FIFTY

They've been together, fifty years.

And family came, and friends, lots of them,
and we laughed and talked and ate so much.

And we bought too much cheese, and way too many crackers,
and far too much cake and just enough punch
but none of that mattered after all.

I said, "I knew you when you were this tall,"
to a teenager,
and realized suddenly,
that I am an old person now.

But, that was okay too,
because all around me were other old people,
my age,
who didn't look old at all.

So tonight I'm feeling happy
and lucky
with a new understanding of time
and how quickly it passes by.

We would never notice
if it weren't for these moments,
placed strategically along the way
where we observe the milestone,
and stop to consider
the very very breathless pace
of life.



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There Really Is A Hole

Today was the last day of school.
I love reading through their accumulated papers.
Twin boy brought his writings to me,
and this one in particular I will save forever.

It is so sweet and full of childhood innocence,
and yet,
guilelessly sinister.


My Special Place

My special place is my backyard.
It is a big beautiful field.

I have two ackers of green grass.
There are tons of dandelions in the summer.
We have swings that are lots of fun.
We also have a pool that has lots of toys for it.

In my backyard we have a half of an acker of woods.
I like hunting back there.
We have a pond in the woods.
There are lots of trees to play in.

There is a big hole in our back yard.
It is so big that we can bury people in it.
I sail boats in it.
I play cars in the hole.

My backyard is my special place because its big,
there are woods,
and there is a big, deep
hole.

Vegetables

I have a new garden.

It is like a baby -
I check on it,
I worry over it,
I bathe it and
tuck it in.

It is very public,
out in the way back of our property,
the neighbors see me trudging out there
working a wheelbarrow,
me with the soft hands
and sensitive skin.

If these plants die,
if they do not grow...

I will take it personally.

*

Creepy

I need to wash these garden gloves, but I keep putting it off
because every time I look in the bucket where they are soaking
it creeps me out.

Quality Time

Tonight I came into the family room for the last 10 minutes of The Mentalist.

"Tell me, in 5 words or less, what is happening," I said to the Teenager,
who promptly responded,

"Murder,
Camp,
Axeman...
Crazy Guy."

"Got it," I said with my mouth full of raisin bran.

We slumped there together until
my cereal was gone
and the crazy guy confessed to everything.

*

He Let One

Tonight one of my students passed gas,
but his dad was in there with us,
so I couldn't do my normal thing
which is to stand up casually,
walk over to the window and
breathe deeply with my nose pressed to the screen.

I had to just sit there and pretend like I hadn't heard it,
and couldn't smell it,
when in fact I had,
and I could.

I See That

So today I was at a band rehearsal and this time it was at the University
in a really big, old building where they store the marching band equipment
and hold rehearsals among other things.

Well all during the practice, these men in suits kept walking through the big room
where we played. They looked like they were sort of touring the place, pointing up
at the ceiling, opening doors, talking with each other. I hoped we weren't bothering
them because we were pretty loud, but other than that I didn't really think much about it.

Later, one of the men came up to me and said, "Hey, nice bass." I said thanks,
and he asked what kind it was.

Now normally when people come up to me and ask me about my bass, it's because they're curious. My bass is really nice - it's a custom bass made of beautiful wood
and I'm really lucky to own it. Usually, people notice it and come up to ask but sometimes they ask sort of funny questions - it's not their fault, they just don't know anything about basses and want to look at it.

So I adopt an attitude of helpfulness, and I usually try to point out something about the bass that they might not know about. For instance I have a six string bass, and sometimes I'll say, "This bass has six strings instead of the four that you probably usually see."

This time, the man smiled and looked really interested, so I was happy to show him my bass. I held it up for him and said, "It's made by Ken Smith," and he nodded appreciatively. Just to be helpful, I pointed out that it was a fretless bass. He again nodded and this time said, "I see that. It's a very nice instrument." I said, "Well I'm lucky, so I try to take really good care of it," as I wiped it down and again he said, "I see that." Then he went on his way.

I put away my bass and went over to the other band members who had been watching this exchange. One of them said to me, "Do you know who that was?" I shook my head no, and he laughed and said it was Rodney Whitaker. The percussionist said, "I thought you must be really nervous to have one of the best bass players in the world watching you."

No, not nervous. Just mortified that I had kindly pointed out to THE Rodney Whitaker, that, in case he hadn't noticed, this is a fretless bass. Duh.
I'm sure he was really impressed with that bit of info. I wish I could go back and have a do over. I'd say, "Mr. Whitaker! I'm a schmuck!" and he would probably nod kindly and say,

"I see that."

*

Small Town Cool

We pulled up to the high school this morning,
and drove slowly and carefully through the parking lot.

Lots of kids standing around admiring each other's rides.

It was, "Drive Your Tractor To School Day."

I love small town life.

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Saying No

I have been preaching to my girlfriends lately
about saying no, because I have finally figured it out.

You say, "Oh I wish I could!" with a look of deep earnestness
and sorrow for the fact that you are unavailable to do whatever thing
you have just been asked to do.

You do not give a reason -
this I learned from the husband.

He says, "If you give a reason, you sound like you're trying to make an excuse,
and it gives them something to argue with you about, and it always comes out
sounding less important than you thought it would."

So there is this little awkward silence after you say,
"Oh I wish I could!"
while they wait for you to say why you can't.

But your look is so earnest and heartfelt and you smile so apologetically,
that after the awkward moment has passed,
they will either say, "okay, maybe next time," or
they might offer a reason for you, like,
"Oh, you're working that day?"

If they do this, watch out, you don't want to agree,
just keep that smile pasted on your face and ever so slightly nod.

To them, the nod means 'yes', and they feel better.
To you, it means,
"yes, please think whatever you like about my reason for saying no."

All that to say, I now find myself in the position of saying "no"
and it's not as easy as I made it out to be,
when I was preaching to my girlfriends.

I need a kick in the pants.

Peace!

*

Squirmles are Back!

Girl twin saw this at the store and squealed that EVERYONE at school has one,
pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?

The husband gave in this week, with two, eventually,
because there was a mighty squabble and tears over the first one.

A squabble for Squirmles.

Remember?

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Day Four

I can't believe I've held out for this long!
On Tuesday I was thinking that I could not attend rehearsal tonight without shampooing first.

Day 3 (Tuesday) was questionable - my hair felt oily and weird.
But then I read that you should only put the vinegar on the ends of your hair,
and I tried that this morning and it made a huge difference!

This time I sort of made a paste of the baking soda
(just poured a little in my hand, then wet it a little)
and massaged it through my hair, concentrating on the scalp.
I let it set for probably 3 minutes, rinsed, and it squeaked.
Then just a little vinegar on the ends and I was good to go.
No tangles.

An added benefit - after massaging with the baking soda paste,
I did a light scrub of my face with the leftover stuff on my hands. Felt good!

Anyway, I can really see that every person who tries this
needs to adjust the procedure to their own liking.
I'm already forming a plan.

On Friday I have a loooong overdue hair appointment.
This week I thought to myself...she's going to 'poo me!
Beauty salon shampoos are the BOMB and I've decided that
I'm just not going to give it up.
I only get my hair cut like 4 times a year, and that's my favorite part!

So, I think my plan might be that I will use shampoo once a week -
every Friday night -
and the rest of the week use my baking soda solution.
I'm going to try that for an extended time and see if it works for me.
Less chemicals, cheaper and hopefully better health too.

Happy Earth Day!

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Third Day

Does she 'poo?

Well here I am on the 3rd day -
it's Tuesday and I last 'pooed my hair (with real shampoo) on Saturday morning.
I've been washing with baking soda/water, rinsing with vinegar/water since then.

And the verdict is...my hair feels sorta weird.
It looks great in the mirror, but feels slightly oily and it's bugging me a bit.
I'm not sure how long I can hold out.

Here's a cool article from Nature Moms.
Thanks, Joann, for passing that on.

According to the article, it can take several weeks for your head to adjust.
It's used to excess oil production because we strip it every day with 'poo.
My head is supposed to calm down eventually.
Hmmm....

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'Poo Update

Day Two of no 'Poo...

Everything is proceeding nicely - my hair is shiny, soft and manageable (so far).

But more importantly, I've had several questions about recipes and sources, so here are some that I use:

Dishwasher Detergent:
Equal parts Borax and Baking Soda
(I keep mine in a Cool Whip container under the sink and spoon it into the detergent cup of the dishwasher - it sure beats those metal-spout torture devices on regular detergent - and way, way cheaper).

Laundry Detergent:
One bar grated Ivory Soap
One cup Borax
One cup Washing Soda (different from baking soda - found in the laundry section next to the Borax)
Use 2 Tablespoons per load
(Use vinegar in the rinse cup for softer clothes)

Crystal Rock Deodorant Stick
It lasts at least a year (mine fell out of the holder but I still use it, nearing year 2)

Here's a tip from mrc-w over at Good Things In This World
A recipe for "green" dryer sheets:

Fill a bucket or other container with 2 parts water, 1 part fabric softener. Throw a couple of small sponges (regular sponges cut in half) to soak. When you need a "dryer sheet," wring out the excess from one sponge and throw it in the dryer with your clothes.

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No 'Poo

No Poo Ingredients


Water and baking soda for the 'Poo



Vinegar and water for the rinse (plus a little bit of vanilla extract)


Always on the cutting edge of things (ha), I decide to pursue the latest trend in greening:

No More Shampoo

I had to try it, and this afternoon mixed up a batch of what I affectionately call,

"No Poo 'Poo",

jumped into the shower and tried it out.

I was really amazed at how soft my hair was after massaging my scalp with the
No Poo-Poo (I love saying that), and then following with the refreshing vinegar rinse.

I'm going to try it for a time, and see if I like it enough to change my habits.

I successfully gave up commercial laundry detergent several months ago and
haven't used typical anti-perspirant in years. I make my own dishwasher detergent, am growing my first real garden, am getting a Mother's Day gift of my very own compost bin and maybe someday we'll have chickens...

But back to the hair.

My biggest concern was how my hair would smell after rinsing with vinegar,
and walked around for the last half hour asking people to smell my wet hair.
Every single one of them said that it smelled really really good, so that part of it is okay.

But is my hair clean??

Stay tuned.

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Stymied

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't seem to bring myself to write.

It seems overwhelming.

Do you ever feel like that?

What to do...
push through or sit back and let the desire come back around again naturally?

Don't know.

Peace.

*

On Vacation

I have...
held hands with a child while we slept,
walked on the beach in the dark,
body-surfed,
walked on the beach in the early morning,
played Marco Polo,
brushed a knot slowly and carefully out of a child's hair,
slathered copious amounts of sunblock onto backs and shoulders,
held a child's chewed gum for a while,
walked on a windy beach, hair whipping everywhere and smiling,
collected shells, mostly baby cradles,
had conversations with children,
visited a best friend,
and had ice cream three times.

So far it's going very well.

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