I mean, come on!
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, February 26, 2010
She's like a little, tiny person.
Ahhh! I can't stop digging on this rapidly growing, yet still very little girl.
I mean, come on!
-- Post From My iPhone
I mean, come on!
-- Post From My iPhone
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Cute Baby Video
While cleaning up the blog today, I realized I promised a ways back to embed this video, and I never did. It's so cute that I feel the need to show it y'all again.
What a guy! What a baby!
Cute Baby!
What a guy! What a baby!
Cute Baby!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
With You All the Way
Music is a basically selfish endeavor. It all starts with a musicians love of music, specifically making music. I've talked about the whole music=magic thing before. Having the ability to make a beautiful noise is a truly magical thing. And so we practice, and we practice. And we get together with our friends and just play. All so we can hear ourselves and enjoy the transcendental exeperience that comes from syncing up with other people on a basic pre-verbal level.
Sometimes we play for audiences. And we share the fruits of the years of practice and playing with them. But even though we play for them, we don't really play for them. Because we'd play even if no one ever heard us again, we'd still play. We play for us.
We record for us. We write for us.
I told you we were a selfish lot.
Once in while though, we get a chance to be of use our gift for service, rather than just selfishness. Which is what happened last week when I got a call from Carl Theil, wanting to know if I'd sing on a record he was making. I'll admit, I took the gig before I fully knew what the deal was. I mean, someone asks me to sing, I say yes. Because it gives me a chance to hear the sound of my own voice.
What can I say? I'm selfish.
It wasn't until a few phone calls later that I learned what I would be singing.
You see, Carl has teamed up with a children's book author names Trevor Romain. Trevor has been commissioned to write two books for the USO: one about how to deal with a parents deployment and one to about parents who come back from the war with injuries. For every book they do, they also have a theme song. The song they wanted me to sing was the theme song for the book about parents being deployed called "With You All the Way."
It's crazy to think we've been at war for eight years. Some of the soldiers have been deployed as many as five times. These deployments can last up to 15 months. 15 months without seeing your kids. 15 months without seeing your partner. 15 months without seeing your mom or dad.
I truly cannot imagine.
Especially now that I'm a parent.
I know everyone has their opinions about the wars. But I think we can all agree that trying to help the children of service women and men is a good thing.
The song is all about staying connected to each other throughout the abscence. When I was learning the song, I just kept thinking about what it could mean to a little boy or girl whose parent was away in a war zone. I know when I was a kid I latched onto songs, singing them so many times that I still remember them on a cellular level. I believed in these songs. I created elaborate dance routines. And it was through these songs that I explored a lot of early emotion.
And I realized that this song could potentially give kids the same experience. The song could be of service to other people. To other children.
So thanks to Carl and Trevor. Many, many thanks. For giving me the chance to get outside of myself.
And I'll let y'all know when you can hear the song.
Sometimes we play for audiences. And we share the fruits of the years of practice and playing with them. But even though we play for them, we don't really play for them. Because we'd play even if no one ever heard us again, we'd still play. We play for us.
We record for us. We write for us.
I told you we were a selfish lot.
Once in while though, we get a chance to be of use our gift for service, rather than just selfishness. Which is what happened last week when I got a call from Carl Theil, wanting to know if I'd sing on a record he was making. I'll admit, I took the gig before I fully knew what the deal was. I mean, someone asks me to sing, I say yes. Because it gives me a chance to hear the sound of my own voice.
What can I say? I'm selfish.
It wasn't until a few phone calls later that I learned what I would be singing.
You see, Carl has teamed up with a children's book author names Trevor Romain. Trevor has been commissioned to write two books for the USO: one about how to deal with a parents deployment and one to about parents who come back from the war with injuries. For every book they do, they also have a theme song. The song they wanted me to sing was the theme song for the book about parents being deployed called "With You All the Way."
It's crazy to think we've been at war for eight years. Some of the soldiers have been deployed as many as five times. These deployments can last up to 15 months. 15 months without seeing your kids. 15 months without seeing your partner. 15 months without seeing your mom or dad.
I truly cannot imagine.
Especially now that I'm a parent.
I know everyone has their opinions about the wars. But I think we can all agree that trying to help the children of service women and men is a good thing.
The song is all about staying connected to each other throughout the abscence. When I was learning the song, I just kept thinking about what it could mean to a little boy or girl whose parent was away in a war zone. I know when I was a kid I latched onto songs, singing them so many times that I still remember them on a cellular level. I believed in these songs. I created elaborate dance routines. And it was through these songs that I explored a lot of early emotion.
And I realized that this song could potentially give kids the same experience. The song could be of service to other people. To other children.
So thanks to Carl and Trevor. Many, many thanks. For giving me the chance to get outside of myself.
And I'll let y'all know when you can hear the song.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Yes it Snowed, Yes it Snowed, Yes it Snowed
It was baby's first snow. I mean, we've been a couple of snowy places on the road, but this was the first time she ever saw snow falling from the sky.
Of course, she dug it, in a "what the heck is this, I think it's tres cool," kind of way. Then we took a picture in it, and she dug it less. I dug it less too, despite my super cheesy smile. I mean, it was snow mixed with sleet and sprinkled with rain. I call it "ick."
Less than idyllic.
But I'll take it!
The bad weather (or should I say the threat of bad weather since the temperatures never dropped low enough for road stickage to occur) kind of threw our house into a tizzy. Both Dave and I had to work today and we had planned on taking Lisel to daycare. But we were unsure of what would happen if the conditions outside deteriorated. Would daycare get closed, and if so, who would pick the bean up? And should we even be risking driving on the roads seeing as how Texans lose all sense of ability to drive sanely at the first sign of frozen precipitation?
In the end, my folks came through. They watched her while we worked. Another reason to be thankful I have awesome parents.
And really, the snow day kind of petered out. It turned into a gray, overcast, vaguely damp day. Which I can handle.
I think this was one of the first times in the history of me that I was actually happy that the snow didn't stick to the roads. Perhaps that's on the checklist. You know you've finally grown up when...
Monday, February 22, 2010
Is it really going to snow tomorrow?
I don't believe it.
But the school age kid inside of me has her fingers crossed for a Snow Day!!!!
Not that snow wouldn't totally interfere with my totally adult plans and stuff.
Old habits die hard.
But the school age kid inside of me has her fingers crossed for a Snow Day!!!!
Not that snow wouldn't totally interfere with my totally adult plans and stuff.
Old habits die hard.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Au Revoir, Hot Spicy Chubby
A couple of days ago, Dave and I decided it was time to look for a new minivan.
"Okay," your probably thinking to yourself, "A New Minivan? Seriously? She wants me to read about her new minivan. No way man. Dude, I am not wasting my valuable internet surfing/facebook checking/tweeting time on this."
But wait! I come here not to praise my new minivan (which is sweet, yes) but to bury my old one.
The one, the only, Hot Spicy Chubby. Aka, the Gravitron. Aka, the most raddest minivan that ever there was.
She had but 4 cylinders. She had no power nothing. And yet, she was my first touring vehicle. Chris Miller and I drove her up and down the East Coast as far North as Rhode Island, and then to the West Coast as far North as San Francisco, playing gigs, listening to AM radio. We set up a bed in the back and would take turns driving the long hauls (36 hours was our longest!). Sleep for 6 hours drive for 6 hours.
I took her on tours with a full band...me and three other guys and all of our gear and luggage, driving to Norman, Oklahoma and Jackson, Mississippi and Lafayette, LA (Holla!). On the long drives home, the one where we left right after the gig and booked home 8, maybe 10 hours-- the gigs where I always drove because I was the band leader and I'm not a drinker and it was my car man -- on these drives, the guys would find places to sleep. The lucky one in the passenger seat, reclining as far as he could go without pissing off the guys in the back. The two in the back vying for what little space there was and sometimes even attempting to sleep on the floor in front of that little bench seat. And me, the only one awake, well I'd sip Red Bull and smoke cigarettes and listen to some British murder mystery on tape while I watched the fog settle on the lake under a full moon...I'd just drive and drive.
She was a good car. Simple and reliable. Stronger than you might think. And even after she became too old to take on trips, she was a great around town gig mobile.
Finally though, she just had too many miles on her, and we have a baby. It was time for an upgrade. But I will miss my little minivan. Luckily, we're giving her to my nephew. She'll still be in the family. I can visit her now and then. But still...
She was a good old wagon.
"Okay," your probably thinking to yourself, "A New Minivan? Seriously? She wants me to read about her new minivan. No way man. Dude, I am not wasting my valuable internet surfing/facebook checking/tweeting time on this."
But wait! I come here not to praise my new minivan (which is sweet, yes) but to bury my old one.
The one, the only, Hot Spicy Chubby. Aka, the Gravitron. Aka, the most raddest minivan that ever there was.
She had but 4 cylinders. She had no power nothing. And yet, she was my first touring vehicle. Chris Miller and I drove her up and down the East Coast as far North as Rhode Island, and then to the West Coast as far North as San Francisco, playing gigs, listening to AM radio. We set up a bed in the back and would take turns driving the long hauls (36 hours was our longest!). Sleep for 6 hours drive for 6 hours.
I took her on tours with a full band...me and three other guys and all of our gear and luggage, driving to Norman, Oklahoma and Jackson, Mississippi and Lafayette, LA (Holla!). On the long drives home, the one where we left right after the gig and booked home 8, maybe 10 hours-- the gigs where I always drove because I was the band leader and I'm not a drinker and it was my car man -- on these drives, the guys would find places to sleep. The lucky one in the passenger seat, reclining as far as he could go without pissing off the guys in the back. The two in the back vying for what little space there was and sometimes even attempting to sleep on the floor in front of that little bench seat. And me, the only one awake, well I'd sip Red Bull and smoke cigarettes and listen to some British murder mystery on tape while I watched the fog settle on the lake under a full moon...I'd just drive and drive.
She was a good car. Simple and reliable. Stronger than you might think. And even after she became too old to take on trips, she was a great around town gig mobile.
Finally though, she just had too many miles on her, and we have a baby. It was time for an upgrade. But I will miss my little minivan. Luckily, we're giving her to my nephew. She'll still be in the family. I can visit her now and then. But still...
She was a good old wagon.
Monday, February 15, 2010
I forgot about pictures
I realize I've been all words no pictures lately. This time around, we actually took pictures in the studio. Not many mind you, but some is better than none.
For one day at least, she wuz.
Disregard the serious face. Really man, it was a lot of fun!
No seriously! It was fun. There were inside jokes and sea shanties and inside jokes about sea shanties!
Will was having fun
As was Sam.
There's a smile! See, I told you so.
Any ideas?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Listening to the Roughs
So, the record is done. Well, not totally done, but mostly done. Well, not mostly done...maybe fifty percent done...maybe 59 percent. Anyway, it's much more done than it was four days ago.
It's so done, that I've been listening to the roughs for the last couple of days. By roughs I mean rough mixes, which are slightly mixed versions of what we have now.
And I'm into it man.
For this record, we recorded differently than we have in the past. We put most of the instruments in the same room except for the bass on half the songs, because we were having trouble getting a good bass sound. Oh, and me, I was in my own little booth
And then we learned the songs, did some on the spot arranging, recorded 3 to 6 versions and then picked our favorite one.
No fixes on bad notes. No re-dos on solos. No do overs.
The way most things are recorded today and they way that we've done things on our previous projects makes use of the technology. Every instrument gets is own room and is therefore isolated from every other instrument. And every instrument gets it own track. So if someone makes a mistake, they can just go back and re-record their part.
The studio we recorded at is Bismeaux studios. It's the studio that Asleep at the Wheel records in. They have 128 tracks.
Now 128 tracks basically gives you unlimited...unlimitedness. You could re-record your part all day and all night until you got it perfect. Add that to the fixer-upper tools that are part and parcel of most recording software today -- autotune, the ability to move notes around -- well, the ability to achieve perfection is within your grasp.
But we didn't want perfection. We wanted performance. We wanted the feeling you get when you play live. We wanted to vibe.
And we got it.
I knew the guys I was playing with could pull it off. And they did, again and again. I even knocked out a couple of keeper vocals (though I'm no where near the studio singer that the guys are studio players, so I'll have to go back and re-sing some stuff. More on that later).
I love it when a plan comes together.
It's so done, that I've been listening to the roughs for the last couple of days. By roughs I mean rough mixes, which are slightly mixed versions of what we have now.
And I'm into it man.
For this record, we recorded differently than we have in the past. We put most of the instruments in the same room except for the bass on half the songs, because we were having trouble getting a good bass sound. Oh, and me, I was in my own little booth
And then we learned the songs, did some on the spot arranging, recorded 3 to 6 versions and then picked our favorite one.
No fixes on bad notes. No re-dos on solos. No do overs.
The way most things are recorded today and they way that we've done things on our previous projects makes use of the technology. Every instrument gets is own room and is therefore isolated from every other instrument. And every instrument gets it own track. So if someone makes a mistake, they can just go back and re-record their part.
The studio we recorded at is Bismeaux studios. It's the studio that Asleep at the Wheel records in. They have 128 tracks.
Now 128 tracks basically gives you unlimited...unlimitedness. You could re-record your part all day and all night until you got it perfect. Add that to the fixer-upper tools that are part and parcel of most recording software today -- autotune, the ability to move notes around -- well, the ability to achieve perfection is within your grasp.
But we didn't want perfection. We wanted performance. We wanted the feeling you get when you play live. We wanted to vibe.
And we got it.
I knew the guys I was playing with could pull it off. And they did, again and again. I even knocked out a couple of keeper vocals (though I'm no where near the studio singer that the guys are studio players, so I'll have to go back and re-sing some stuff. More on that later).
I love it when a plan comes together.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Another Day in the Studio Another Early Night
And I have to say, leaving the baby with Claire at home, rather than in the no natural light and lots of distractions studio was the best idea ever. We came home to a happy, rested, well fed and well exercised baby.
Lesson definitely learned.
Lesson definitely learned.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I think 8:30 is becoming something of an official bedtime
Not for the baby, but for Dave and I.
And I'm okay with that, which is one of the weirder outcomes of becoming a parent. I mean, it's not an original situation. "Parent Exhausted! Goes to bed Super Early! News at 11!" In fact, it's like this huge commonality among those responsible for younger lives.
It just took over a year for the delight in the early bedtime to finally set in. I'm not just okay with the fact that as soon as I hit the publish button, that my and my husbands asses will both settlle into our Queen Size for the night, I'm ecstatic.
I've been looking forward to it all day.
Not that it wasn't another stellar day in the studio. One of the joys of working with this particular group of guys is how much genuine fun is being had. That's not always the case with recording. In fact, putting people together in a recording environment is often a recipe for bad vibes and hurt feelings. It's can be very hard to communicate what you want to a musician, especially if you're in separate rooms communicating via microphones and headphones. Crossed wires are just par for the course. Even harder, is telling someone that you're just not that into what they're playing ("I like what you're trying to do, but maybe you could...") or that they're just playing it wrong ("Hey, can you hear yourself alright in the mix?") And the moment someone gets their hackels up...well, lets just say things can go downhill pretty quick.
And suddenly, you and everyone around you is either fuming, being fumed at, or trying like hell to ignore the ick in the windowless room.
Which kind of inhibits creativity, you know.
But these guys...these guys are just the bomb-diddly-om, for lack of a better word (which I'm sure exists, but dude, I'm tired). No egos, not left handed compliments or biting sarcasm. No pouting, which is huge. Lot's of ridiculously good input, ridiculously good playing and patience. Sweet patience.
I mean, not that there haven't been disagreements, or even hiccups. But there was never any vibe killing, passive aggressive meltdowns. Not even close.
Just jokes. Lots and lots of jokes.
Dude, it's getting near my bedtime. I've got to go.
Good night (She said with a huge smile on her face)
And I'm okay with that, which is one of the weirder outcomes of becoming a parent. I mean, it's not an original situation. "Parent Exhausted! Goes to bed Super Early! News at 11!" In fact, it's like this huge commonality among those responsible for younger lives.
It just took over a year for the delight in the early bedtime to finally set in. I'm not just okay with the fact that as soon as I hit the publish button, that my and my husbands asses will both settlle into our Queen Size for the night, I'm ecstatic.
I've been looking forward to it all day.
Not that it wasn't another stellar day in the studio. One of the joys of working with this particular group of guys is how much genuine fun is being had. That's not always the case with recording. In fact, putting people together in a recording environment is often a recipe for bad vibes and hurt feelings. It's can be very hard to communicate what you want to a musician, especially if you're in separate rooms communicating via microphones and headphones. Crossed wires are just par for the course. Even harder, is telling someone that you're just not that into what they're playing ("I like what you're trying to do, but maybe you could...") or that they're just playing it wrong ("Hey, can you hear yourself alright in the mix?") And the moment someone gets their hackels up...well, lets just say things can go downhill pretty quick.
And suddenly, you and everyone around you is either fuming, being fumed at, or trying like hell to ignore the ick in the windowless room.
Which kind of inhibits creativity, you know.
But these guys...these guys are just the bomb-diddly-om, for lack of a better word (which I'm sure exists, but dude, I'm tired). No egos, not left handed compliments or biting sarcasm. No pouting, which is huge. Lot's of ridiculously good input, ridiculously good playing and patience. Sweet patience.
I mean, not that there haven't been disagreements, or even hiccups. But there was never any vibe killing, passive aggressive meltdowns. Not even close.
Just jokes. Lots and lots of jokes.
Dude, it's getting near my bedtime. I've got to go.
Good night (She said with a huge smile on her face)
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
In the Studio...Again
We've just gotten home from another day in the studio.
Note to all parents of 11 month-olds...If you're thinking of bringing your baby into the studio, then do it. A pack and play, a good friend/nanny and some toys will get you through an 8 hour day. At least it worked for us back in November when we recorded the first 6 songs for the new Elizabeth McQueen record. It was actually pretty fun.
Note to all parents of 13 month-olds...If you're thinking of bringing the baby to the studio, think again. I don't know if it's just because Lisel was older and wiser, or maybe she was just having one of those days, but she was not having the "separated from mommy by only a door, " deal. It was the same set up as last time. Claire, toys, a pack n play. And yet, this time, there were tears. Lots of tears.
I think the bean is getting much smarter. Out of sight, out of mind is no longer working.
And tomorrow, I think the bean shall not be coming to the studio. No need to make her hang out all day in a windowless, dude-intensive environment.
Once again, I'm in awe of the guys who are playing on this record. John Doyle, Lindsay Greene, Andrew Nafziger, Floyd Domino and my own sweet Dave Sanger...they are very, very good players. And the engineers, Sam and Will..they are very good too.
I want to tell you all about the session. About how the first song I chose was a song called "Love"-- a song I learned from Lena Horne -- and how it was such a bear, with key changes and ridiculous chord progressions that it took three people just to chart that sucker out. And how we played it through so many times that Dave started to think of its title as "Hate" rather than "Love." And then after a couple of hours, the arrangement went from kind of an amorphous jingle jangle to something that we all dug.
And how the next song I chose was one that I'd written, and I'm always terribly embarrassed to play songs I've written for people other than family members, especially good musician types like the ones I was with today. And how my friends didn't laugh at me, but listened to the song and took it in and how by the first take the arrangement had coalesced into this really perfect and sweet song. And how even though we recorded it three more times, we all agreed that that first take was the one.
Or how about at the very end of the day, John and Lindsay and Andrew and I took a shot at the Magnetic Fields song "You're My Only Home," a song I've loved since before I loved Dave, and how within a half hour we had it.
I want to tell you how a good day in the studio, a day like today, is fairly magical. At least it is for me. Because what is magic if not the act of creating something from nothing.
I want to tell you all about it, but I am pooped and scooped, and like any good parent of a 13 month-old who has to go to work tomorrow, I'm going to bed.
But we'll talk about this later, I promise.
Note to all parents of 11 month-olds...If you're thinking of bringing your baby into the studio, then do it. A pack and play, a good friend/nanny and some toys will get you through an 8 hour day. At least it worked for us back in November when we recorded the first 6 songs for the new Elizabeth McQueen record. It was actually pretty fun.
Note to all parents of 13 month-olds...If you're thinking of bringing the baby to the studio, think again. I don't know if it's just because Lisel was older and wiser, or maybe she was just having one of those days, but she was not having the "separated from mommy by only a door, " deal. It was the same set up as last time. Claire, toys, a pack n play. And yet, this time, there were tears. Lots of tears.
I think the bean is getting much smarter. Out of sight, out of mind is no longer working.
And tomorrow, I think the bean shall not be coming to the studio. No need to make her hang out all day in a windowless, dude-intensive environment.
Once again, I'm in awe of the guys who are playing on this record. John Doyle, Lindsay Greene, Andrew Nafziger, Floyd Domino and my own sweet Dave Sanger...they are very, very good players. And the engineers, Sam and Will..they are very good too.
I want to tell you all about the session. About how the first song I chose was a song called "Love"-- a song I learned from Lena Horne -- and how it was such a bear, with key changes and ridiculous chord progressions that it took three people just to chart that sucker out. And how we played it through so many times that Dave started to think of its title as "Hate" rather than "Love." And then after a couple of hours, the arrangement went from kind of an amorphous jingle jangle to something that we all dug.
And how the next song I chose was one that I'd written, and I'm always terribly embarrassed to play songs I've written for people other than family members, especially good musician types like the ones I was with today. And how my friends didn't laugh at me, but listened to the song and took it in and how by the first take the arrangement had coalesced into this really perfect and sweet song. And how even though we recorded it three more times, we all agreed that that first take was the one.
Or how about at the very end of the day, John and Lindsay and Andrew and I took a shot at the Magnetic Fields song "You're My Only Home," a song I've loved since before I loved Dave, and how within a half hour we had it.
I want to tell you how a good day in the studio, a day like today, is fairly magical. At least it is for me. Because what is magic if not the act of creating something from nothing.
I want to tell you all about it, but I am pooped and scooped, and like any good parent of a 13 month-old who has to go to work tomorrow, I'm going to bed.
But we'll talk about this later, I promise.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Another day at the office
I really do love what I do for a living. It's a pinch me because I have to be dreaming kind of job. Like today, I got to record my part of a duet of "Alright, Okay, You Win" with Leon Rausch. Yes, that's former Texas Playboy and badass crooner Leon Rausch. He's one of my favorite singers. And I get to sing with him.
Cool.
-- Post From My iPhone
Cool.
-- Post From My iPhone
My Dress at the Grammys, A poem
It started at as little tear
Right below the zipper
We fixed it with a safety pin
And it looked no less hipper
And then during pre-telecast I felt a little ripper
So I hurried to the bathroom fast
Sent a "help me" text and Blast!
My mom and little sister
Were there with sewing kit and all
I undressed in the bathroom stall
While mom sewed up my blue dress
Then I was chipper
Then to the telecast we went
Gaga and Elton
Beyonce Pink
Black Eyed peas
The drummer from Blink (187)
Ovations came and went and came
Stand up sit down stand up
Down and up and down and then
I felt my backside
And felt my heart slide
Because the rip had growed and growed
But what the hell I had my coat!
We laughed about it then
We laugh about it now and sigh
Just take a look, and you'll see why
A big old rip and a little heartbreak
Does a funny story make
Joke note...
When I said "Ack! And I'm wearing my Granny panties!" (a polka dot of which you can see in the photo) Lynn replied...
"You should have worn your Grammy panties!"
-- Post From My iPhone
Right below the zipper
We fixed it with a safety pin
And it looked no less hipper
And then during pre-telecast I felt a little ripper
So I hurried to the bathroom fast
Sent a "help me" text and Blast!
My mom and little sister
Were there with sewing kit and all
I undressed in the bathroom stall
While mom sewed up my blue dress
Then I was chipper
Then to the telecast we went
Gaga and Elton
Beyonce Pink
Black Eyed peas
The drummer from Blink (187)
Ovations came and went and came
Stand up sit down stand up
Down and up and down and then
I felt my backside
And felt my heart slide
Because the rip had growed and growed
But what the hell I had my coat!
We laughed about it then
We laugh about it now and sigh
Just take a look, and you'll see why
A big old rip and a little heartbreak
Does a funny story make
Joke note...
When I said "Ack! And I'm wearing my Granny panties!" (a polka dot of which you can see in the photo) Lynn replied...
"You should have worn your Grammy panties!"
-- Post From My iPhone
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Grammys
Highlights included:
1.Walking down the red carpet...or should I say the non-famous part of the red carpet. They directed us to the roped off, left hand lane of the red carpet where we were able to watch the various media outlets get their interview stations ready. Somewhere out there, maybe on Lynn's camera, is a sneaky picture we took there!
2.Waiting with my family to see if we won a Grammy. We were the 47th category to be announced. Around the 20th, perhaps is was "Best Tejano record" we started getting nervous. Around number 30, perhaps it was "Best Gospel Record," our heartsbegan to pound. And by 46, I think it was "Best Large Ensemble jazz record," We were a collective wreck.
"We could win this," I thought. "I mean, we have a one in five chance, right?" I started to imagine what t would be like to hear our names called, to stand up, male our way to the podium...
"And the Grammy goes to...Levon Helm" said Mick Fleetwood. Or was it Cobie CallIait.
And in an instant all of the jitters dissapated. I mean, none of us were actually upset. The Band is my all time favorite band of all time, so losing to fellow Arkansas boy Levon Helm...well it was the next best thing to winning. I mean, I lost to one of my heroes.
Rad.
3. Sharing the day with my husband, my parents, my sister and my brother in law. Talk about lucky. Having then all there, gtting a dressed up and creating this incredible shared memory...amazing.
4. Seeing famous people up close. Those who know me know that when it comes to famous people I have not an ounce of coolness in me. I just get all giddy and giggly. Getting to stargaze with my family was the best! Sighting include Ringo Starr ( Dave yelled "I love you Ringo!" and Ringo waved back), Lady Gaga (she was robbed!), Adam Lambert (very sparkly jacket), Nicole Kidman (she really is that beautiful), Andy Samberg (Ras Trent I love thee!) and Queen Latifah who sat two rows in front of us and who is gorgeous!
5. Watching the Show. It was particularly good this year. Beyonce blew me away! And Pink! Sigh!
Soon, the tale of my dress...
-- Post From My iPhone
1.Walking down the red carpet...or should I say the non-famous part of the red carpet. They directed us to the roped off, left hand lane of the red carpet where we were able to watch the various media outlets get their interview stations ready. Somewhere out there, maybe on Lynn's camera, is a sneaky picture we took there!
2.Waiting with my family to see if we won a Grammy. We were the 47th category to be announced. Around the 20th, perhaps is was "Best Tejano record" we started getting nervous. Around number 30, perhaps it was "Best Gospel Record," our heartsbegan to pound. And by 46, I think it was "Best Large Ensemble jazz record," We were a collective wreck.
"We could win this," I thought. "I mean, we have a one in five chance, right?" I started to imagine what t would be like to hear our names called, to stand up, male our way to the podium...
"And the Grammy goes to...Levon Helm" said Mick Fleetwood. Or was it Cobie CallIait.
And in an instant all of the jitters dissapated. I mean, none of us were actually upset. The Band is my all time favorite band of all time, so losing to fellow Arkansas boy Levon Helm...well it was the next best thing to winning. I mean, I lost to one of my heroes.
Rad.
3. Sharing the day with my husband, my parents, my sister and my brother in law. Talk about lucky. Having then all there, gtting a dressed up and creating this incredible shared memory...amazing.
4. Seeing famous people up close. Those who know me know that when it comes to famous people I have not an ounce of coolness in me. I just get all giddy and giggly. Getting to stargaze with my family was the best! Sighting include Ringo Starr ( Dave yelled "I love you Ringo!" and Ringo waved back), Lady Gaga (she was robbed!), Adam Lambert (very sparkly jacket), Nicole Kidman (she really is that beautiful), Andy Samberg (Ras Trent I love thee!) and Queen Latifah who sat two rows in front of us and who is gorgeous!
5. Watching the Show. It was particularly good this year. Beyonce blew me away! And Pink! Sigh!
Soon, the tale of my dress...
-- Post From My iPhone
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
One sick baby
So, a couple days before we left on this trip,Lisel I met some friends of mine and their kids at the park. At one point, my friend Joyce and I had a conversation that went a little something like this.
Joyce ,"So, how do you deal with Lisel getting sick on the road. I mean, you guys must be really used to that by now."
Me, "Actually, we've been lucky. She's never been really sick during a trip."
Of course, I immediately regretted those words. Not because they weren't true -- our first year was wonderfully free of infant illness. But you don't say stuff like that right before a trip, because Fate is always listening and lying in wait, ready to pounce at the slightest temptation.
And of course, on the second day of our trip Lisel got sick.
Now, this wasn't runny nose and kind of crabby cold stuff. This was blazing fever, extremely upset, waking up ever hour or so during the night, sleeping all day sick.
Such a poor baby!
Like I said, none of us had experienced sickness on the road before. I was ill prepared (pardon my pun, but we've been watching a lot of Sesame Street aka the Street, where puns reign supreme!) I has actually been looking forward to the nights on this trip, because over the break Dave and I finally got Lisel to sleep through the night. Uninterrupted sleep on the road seemed within reach.
But I tempted fate and we all paid the price.
The road is a different experience when one is sleep deprived, surounded by similarly sleep deprived people who are all trying to get to the next destination while caring for a poor little feverish baby. And by different, I mean I may not have had some of my finest moments. There was much snappery and bitchiness of my part. And complaining. And did I mention bitchiness.
I was not at my best.
Mostly though, I felt sorry for Lisel who was not only having to suffer through the sicky, but who had to suffer while traveling from hotel room to gig to hotel room. It was times like these that make me rethink this whole baby on the road business. It seems like this will be a more common scenario as she gets bigger and starts hanging out with more kids. They say It's part of the natural process of her building her immune system.
But this was a relatively mild case of the icks. What about when she picks up something really nasty?
She's quite the trooper. And I guess we'll be doing what we've always done, and play it all by ear.
In Phoenix, we took her to an urgent care facility, where the doctor confirmed that she was sick with a throat infection that was (fortunately) not strep. So we knew it was a virus that just had to run it's course. And for 3 days we kept her hydrated, kept her fever down with Tylenol, and tried to keep her as comfortable as possible.
While we were at the Grammys, she and Claire hung in the hotel all day playing and eating and sleeping. It was a blessed day without travel or gigs for the bean. And last night her fever finally broke. She woke up being her normal, hilarious, Lisel Blossom self. So life is pretty much back to normal.
But I have seen the future. And I'm a little afraid.
The era of sicky is upon us.
-- Post From My iPhone
Joyce ,"So, how do you deal with Lisel getting sick on the road. I mean, you guys must be really used to that by now."
Me, "Actually, we've been lucky. She's never been really sick during a trip."
Of course, I immediately regretted those words. Not because they weren't true -- our first year was wonderfully free of infant illness. But you don't say stuff like that right before a trip, because Fate is always listening and lying in wait, ready to pounce at the slightest temptation.
And of course, on the second day of our trip Lisel got sick.
Now, this wasn't runny nose and kind of crabby cold stuff. This was blazing fever, extremely upset, waking up ever hour or so during the night, sleeping all day sick.
Such a poor baby!
Like I said, none of us had experienced sickness on the road before. I was ill prepared (pardon my pun, but we've been watching a lot of Sesame Street aka the Street, where puns reign supreme!) I has actually been looking forward to the nights on this trip, because over the break Dave and I finally got Lisel to sleep through the night. Uninterrupted sleep on the road seemed within reach.
But I tempted fate and we all paid the price.
The road is a different experience when one is sleep deprived, surounded by similarly sleep deprived people who are all trying to get to the next destination while caring for a poor little feverish baby. And by different, I mean I may not have had some of my finest moments. There was much snappery and bitchiness of my part. And complaining. And did I mention bitchiness.
I was not at my best.
Mostly though, I felt sorry for Lisel who was not only having to suffer through the sicky, but who had to suffer while traveling from hotel room to gig to hotel room. It was times like these that make me rethink this whole baby on the road business. It seems like this will be a more common scenario as she gets bigger and starts hanging out with more kids. They say It's part of the natural process of her building her immune system.
But this was a relatively mild case of the icks. What about when she picks up something really nasty?
She's quite the trooper. And I guess we'll be doing what we've always done, and play it all by ear.
In Phoenix, we took her to an urgent care facility, where the doctor confirmed that she was sick with a throat infection that was (fortunately) not strep. So we knew it was a virus that just had to run it's course. And for 3 days we kept her hydrated, kept her fever down with Tylenol, and tried to keep her as comfortable as possible.
While we were at the Grammys, she and Claire hung in the hotel all day playing and eating and sleeping. It was a blessed day without travel or gigs for the bean. And last night her fever finally broke. She woke up being her normal, hilarious, Lisel Blossom self. So life is pretty much back to normal.
But I have seen the future. And I'm a little afraid.
The era of sicky is upon us.
-- Post From My iPhone
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