I went to Thailand for 48 hours to entertain some people. It was completely insane and I loved every bit of it.

It started on Twitter with a series of DM’s (direct messages) from my friend Steve Lawson that I received while standing in a gas station in Monteagle, TN asking if I could be in London Feb 21st-24th to rehearse for a gig in Phuket on March 4th.

Uh…yes please! First, a bit about Steve: renaissance madman is the phrase that comes to mind. He’s a solo bassist, journalist, documentarian, commentarian, master of all things internet, champion of all things indie, husband to Lobelia, daddy to Baby Flapjack, and someone who somehow manages to be exceptionally opinionated and outspoken while simultaneously being extremely accepting and unflappably happy. Quite a remarkable feat of human beingness, just so you know who was driving this wacky bus. Long story short: we pitched the band (Steve's idea was to put together a bit of a dream band and luckily for me, I fit the singer bill), they liked us, we worked out the details, and off I headed to London to rehearse with some British dudes I’d never met, save for Steve. The guys were absolutely wonderful and welcomed my goofy American R&B ass with open arms. I got ninja points for going straight from the airport to a 6-hour rehearsal after flying to London from Memphis where I’d been at Folk Alliance all weekend. (I impressed myself with that, truthfully.) Three more intense rehearsal days followed in a groovy facility in Putney. Requisite R&B vibe was provided by the train that rumbled directly over head every few minutes, the sound of which we got used to and managed to hang a really nice groove in spite of.

The band consisted of:

Me on lead vocals and keys

Steve Lawson on bass – you met him earlier

Miles Bould on drums – utter sweetheart of a guy, married to a hot chick bass player, 3 gorgeous kids, SO funky

Mike Outram on guitar and bgv’s – lulls you into feeling safe with his gentle manner then melts your face with his guitar-playing.

Ben Castle on sax and bgv’s – brilliant saxophonist, hilarious human, fascinating life.

Ben Walker on keys & bgv’s – excruciatingly clever fellow, lovely player, quite tall.

In addition to being top notch pro musicians with a crazy list of credits between them, every one of them is a truly delightful and lovely human being. (Steve told me that “being not only awesome but also lovely” was a big factor in who he called for this gig.) It was a real joy getting to know these guys, musically and personally.

Then it was off to Thailand! We all arrived at Heathrow airport with the same giddy sense of “holy shit I can’t believe we’re pulling this off!” It was palpable and quite cute. Joining the party for the first time were Lucy Windmill (production assistant) and Trevor Learoyd (sound man/tech extraordinaire.) We got on an enormous plane and were greeted by Thai ladies in full length traditional dresses bowing and saying “Sawadee Ka” as we walked in. (Interior monologue: “Dang – this DEFINITELY ain’t Southwest Airlines...”) We left London at 11:50 am Wed March 2 and arrived in Bankgkok at 6:10am Thursday March 3, flight was about 11 ½ hours. Since that was 11:10pm Wednesday London time, we were quite confused by our compulsion to have coffee. But it was morning where we were and we didn’t know what else to do. When in Bangkok…

Flight from Bangkok to Phuket was only about an hour and a half and we were at our hotel by about 11am. They only had 4 of our 8 rooms ready so we just dumped our stuff in the available ones and went off on our merry ways. Lucy and I headed straight for the beach because it was there. I don’t know about you but I sure as hell had never heard of the Andaman Sea before - let alone swum in it - and I wasn’t about to wait. After a lovely dip, we chilled under some beach umbrellas, drank a few Tsinga beers, and tried to snooze a little. We didn’t manage to get into our rooms until 4:30. That’s a long story, primarily involving well-intentioned band members and Thai ladies who were far sweeter than they were helpful. See Ben Walker’s blog post here for variations on that theme.

Seeing as how we were meeting to go see the client at 5 and hadn’t slept, eaten or showered, I was not exactly in the best of spirits. I did my best to rally as we toured the resort where the gig was (the GORGEOUS Indigo Pearl), had cocktails with lovely Tuyen who was putting the whole shindig together, and waited for dinner plans to materialize. Plan was to meet up with about 30 other people for dinner. We walked across half the resort to join them, then moseyed off to another spot to pile into vans headed for an even more spectacular resort (which I did not think was possible). By this point I was beyond exhausted, seeing stars, and my gut was telling me I did NOT need to get into a van and be stuck off on this 3-hour dinner-for-40 extravaganza. But my desire to experience as much of this place as I could in 48 hours coupled with my neurotic compulsion not to rock the boat had me climb into the van...where I promptly passed out. 20 minutes later I stumbled out to behold a breathtaking scene: water, fountains, beautiful lighting, bridges, flowers…it was stunning. But all I could think about was which direction to fall if I passed out. After walking 10 minutes to the dinner spot only to be detoured to bar to wait for cocktails on the beach I finally hit TILT. What unfolded was a meltdown that resembled that of an overtired toddler who obviously needs something but has no idea what. Steve, Lucy, and Trevor did their level best to tend to me but when I finally mumbled “I wanna go home” and burst into tears it became quickly apparent that the only solution was for me to go back to our hotel and crash. At this point, Tuyen went into triage mode. (I can only imagine her inner dialogue just then: “Great – flew this loopy American over here to sing and she’s having a meltdown – how special.”) I was golf-carted back to a van and shepherded back to my own room. I realized that I was not only in dire need of food and sleep, but also of a little space to myself. After several deep breaths in the solace of my room I went down to the beach alone for a beer and a pizza, the latter of which I shared with one of the many stray dogs I’d seen wandering about that day. Soul and stomach fed, I crashed HARD and slept for 9 hours.

Next day I met some of my fellow #Phunket (brilliant Twitter hashtag Steve came up with) folk at breakfast, apologized for my implosion, and assured them I was in much better shape for the gig that night. Then I headed off to see the massage ladies. For 900 baht (about $30) I got a massage and a pedicure as I laid on a table next to the beach. Not a bad way to spend 2 hours. The ladies were super-cute too. When they found out that I was singing at a party later, one of them said “You test now!” and motioned for me to sing something for them. I did and they giggled and applauded. Adorable moments like that redeem so much...

Since it was hotter than 40 hells outside, I decided to sneak a dip in the ocean before heading to sound check, which I did in my bikini and sarong. (That was a first.) Did I mention that our gig (and sound check) was in a tent outside? Where it was hotter than 40 hells? Right. By the end of sound check the guys had sweat so much they looked as if they’d been in the ocean too. We worked out what we needed to and then went to the restaurant for dinner. We had just finished eating and were awaiting coffee when there was a power outage. Ruh-roh…  Our initial panic was calmed by sound guru Trevor informing us that all the power for the gig was on it’s own generator…but we didn't get any coffee. Eh…OK. The power was quickly restored at Indigo Pearl where the gig was, but not so at our hotel next door, where we all had to get changed and ready for the gig. I showered (rinsed?) by the light of my iPhone and dressed by the light of my MacBook. Steve Jobs FTW. Power came back on just in time for me to attempt to dry my unwashed sea & sweat-soaked hair (a mission that was quickly aborted in favor of the much-beloved ponytail), schmear on some make-up and hit the stage. This train was departing, whether any of us smelled OK or not.

The party: oh my heavens, was it extravagant! There was even a baby elephant, which I didn’t get to see because I was wrestling with my fishnet tights and new boots in the fricking dark. FAIL. The guys played a mellow set of totally improvised music – quite masterfully, I might add (listen here!) – and I came up to do two songs before we took a break. Then it was time for the main event - the dance set – which, for me, was a sweat-soaked blur. We’d done our best to craft a set of danceable and recognizable tunes with a few of my originals peppered in and the crowd seemed to like everything we did. We'd been asked to try and get the kids involved in addition to getting the adults up to dance. Well…the kids were up in a heartbeat and we had a harder time getting them off the stage than anything else. Hilarious. Before I knew it we were rocking the encore and I was playing the intro clav part of “Superstition” with one hand while trying to keep the conga line that had infiltrated the stage from overturning my water and my keyboard with the other. (Somewhere in there I also managed to split my lip when I pulled the mic out of the humidity-soaked clip straight into my face – charming.) Suddenly and remarkably we were done, sans spillage of any water, blood or keyboards.

Ben Castle then lead the party to the beach Pied Piper style on solo sax (bless him) – while the rest of the band caught their breath and I went to find ice for my rapidly swelling lip (what a goober.) We debriefed briefly (heh! sorry…) then changed clothes and made our way to the beach to finally let loose. The party was easy to find by following either the sound of the French DJ or the dozens of fire lanterns that were being sent off into the night sky – gorgeous! There were fire dancers too, but I missed them in favor of changing clothes. Worth it, trust me. I got to release a few fire lanterns myself, which look like big paper lamp shades that you light at the bottom to create a hot air balloon effect. I wished as I let the last one go that my life would always be filled with magic…hard not to have that thought while standing in the Andaman Sea in the moonlight.

When the band all found each other again amid the revelry on the beach there was another palpable shared feeling of excitement – but it was much rowdier this time: as we celebrated the fact that we’d done what we'd come to do and it went off spectacularly. It was at this point that I witnessed something I had never seen in all my years: the entire band…on the dance floor…actually dancing. And I don’t mean standing there kinda leaning back and forth in rhythm – this band was throwing DOWN! I can’t remember the last time I squealed with such joyous delight. After about 30 minutes Miles decided he couldn’t come all this way without jumping into the ocean at least once. Since I rarely pass up an opportunity to jump in some water (whether I’m conveniently dressed for it like I was that night or not) I offered to join him in a moonlight swim. Delicious.

Some of us used the last few hours between beach party and airport call to sleep, others decided to stay up and watch the sunrise. We were a ragged but happy bunch in the airport. Who flies to Thailand for 48 hours and does all that? “It’s completely mad!” as Steve would (and did) say. But we did it. Something was wonky about Trevor’s reservation so he was pushed to a later flight. He went straight back to the beach to join Lucy, who’d booked herself some extra days there on holiday. Lucky bastards... The rest of us saddled up for the 13-hour flight from Bangkok back to London. That was the longest flight I’ve ever endured and the broken sound system (no movies!) didn’t help. Thankfully, I made friends with the gal next to me, who’d been at the party with her husband. “Oh you’re the singer! I didn’t recognize you without your fishnet tights and boots….oops…I probably shouldn’t have said that so loud. Sorry!” Hah! We shared pictures and stories while the pretty Thai Airways people kept the free wine coming. Once we got back to Heathrow the boys and I shared one more celebratory drink before they saw me off to my hotel and they all went home.

Sunday: Heathrow to Dulles to Nashville – almost home. Had an insanely delicious breakfast with some of the best huevos rancheros ever (Heathrow – who knew??), stopped at Duty Free for extra-special whiskeys, and I was on my way back to America. I felt great and stayed awake through the bulk of the long flight but got really exhausted just as it was about to land. Total timing fail, since clearing customs at Dulles is a long, exhausting, hot, stinky process. By the time I went through all the lines, rode at least 40 escalators (WTF??) and walked the mile and a half to my last gate I was completely knackered. Only a few more hours and surely I can nap through them, right? Wrong.

Rain poured as we walked outside to board the tiny Nashville-bound plane. I climbed into my seat ready to crash, but the dude behind me had struck up a lively conversation with the gal next to him in a rather loud voice. He wasn’t saying anything offensive, he was just in networky-chatty-guy mode and he. would. NOT. SHUT! UP!!?*! I put in earplugs - still heard him. I tied my sweatshirt around my head twice – but it still didn’t drown him out. I tried headphones with music – no dice. It would have been perfectly acceptable for me to turn around, explain that I’d been traveling for two days straight and really needed to sleep, and ask if he’d mind keeping his voice down a bit. But I was approaching toddler meltdown state again: WAY too exhausted and emotionally frazzled to say anything but “waaaahhhhh.” So I just sat in my seat and cried while he jabbered happily on behind me. As soon as the seat belt sign went off (even in that state I am a serial rule follower) I moved to the empty row in front of me and put the tunes back in my ears. The existential crisis I was experiencing deserved a soundtrack. Just about then the lone flight attendant asked if I wanted anything to drink. Here’s what happened next…

Me: “I'll have water, unless you’ve got something stronger.”

Her: “What do you want?”

Me: “What do you got?”

Her: “What do you want?” OK….

Me: “Got any beer?”

Her: “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s cold.”

Me: “Got any whiskey?”

Her: “Yeah, I think so. What kind do you want?”

Me: “What kind do you got?”

Her: “Jack Daniels, Jim Beam…”

Me: “Jim Beam.”

Her: “OK. You got any cash?”

Me: “Nope.”

Her: “Sorry, hon. I know the other flight only took credit but we only take cash.”

Me: “I guess I’ll have water then.

She pours water.

Me: “I got about 50 Thai baht if that will buy me anything…”

Her, looking around first: “What do you want with that whiskey?”

Me: “Really? Ginger ale.”

Her, winking: “Be right back.”

Me, tearfully: “Oh bless you.”

I sat back, closed my eyes, and let Donny Hathaway, Sam Cooke & Jim Beam sooth my soul, crying all the while. My tears of despair were soon cried out and were replaced by tears of joyful gratitude. Enormously redeeming moment, existential crisis averted. Amazing how that turn can happen.

If there were a moral to this rambling, crazy story it would be this: if you’re good at what you do, are an enjoyable person to be around and not an asshole, and you stick around…opportunities like this one WILL come your way from time to time. All of us have done thousands of crap gigs in crap venues for crap money and crap people. To be properly paid for a job well done - by and for lovely people - AND to have such a magical experience in the process was a nice slice of karmic reward. Hard to argue with that combination. More please….

-   Get “I Will Raise My Voice” to Oprah

First I wrote down that I wanted one of my songs to be used by major media to empower, inspire and encourage people. I still want that. But that was just a fancy way of saying I. Want. To. Sing. That. Song. On. Oprah.

When the seed for my song “I Will Raise My Voice” first planted itself in me and began to germinate, I said to myself: “I want to write something Oprah-worthy – something she would have on her show.” Sometimes I even fantasized about it being her theme song. Oprah’s all about living your best life, feeding your soul, and expressing your authentic self, right? And who doesn’t have to walk through some fear to get to those places? (Anybody who says “me” right here is lying…or actually Buddha.) Well, my song is about exactly that – walking through fear and raising your voice to express your truest self. 

It’s also about being a candle in the darkness. “If I don’t sing no one can sing along…so I will sing.” Many of you have shared how much that song has touched or inspired you. Everywhere I sing it, people are really moved by it. And nothing moves me more than knowing that, feeling that. We all have a song to sing, at least metaphorically speaking. I don’t have a tragic tale to tell, didn’t struggle through great adversity…I’m just an average white girl from the Midwest. I had a modest but more than comfortable upbringing where my creativity and individuality was always encouraged. I went to an arts high school and a music college and excelled in both. I’ve been singing for a living for years. To top it off, I’m pretty and relatively thin. All of that positive reinforcement and I’m still afraid to speak. I still have to mount up tremendous courage to speak my peace and sing my song. Sometimes I think all I have going for me somehow diminishes my right to speak out. Who am I to say anything? What have I overcome compared to so many others? It’s utterly ridiculous, I know. As someone who believes in the inherent dignity and worth of every human being you’d think I’d stumble upon my own a bit sooner than my late 30’s. All this rambling to say….logic would dictate that if I need to hear this song there are bound to be some others who could benefit from it as well.

Which is why I want Oprah to hear it…so ERRYbody can hear it. Here’s my plan:

1. find an appropriate address to send things to the Oprah camp.


2. find 20, 30, 40 people who are passionate enough about that song to send a letter to Oprah about it and enclose a CD (which I’ll provide, of course). The more copies that penetrate that giant machine the better chance it has of getting noticed. (Props to my new friend and beautifully gifted voice-raiser Joe Jencks for this brilliant idea.)

This is where you come in, my dear friends:

   * Does that song inspire you enough to tell Oprah about it?

   * Do you have an “in” to the Oprah world that you could share with me or use to further this endeavor? Like Gayle’s mobile number or something…?

I would love to hear from you if this moves you in any way or you have any ideas for me about this.

In case you’re unfamiliar or just need a fix, this is the album version of “I Will Raise My Voice” in all its organ-kissed, choir-blessed glory:

"I Will Raise My Voice" album version

And here is a video of me singing this at the FARM (Folk Alliance Region Midwest) conference last October. It’s not a perfect performance but I love the energy and spirit of it. Mostly I love that people are singing along. Amen.

"I Will Raise My Voice" live at FARM

Thank you for reading this. I wish you Oprah.

I took a crapton of pictures but so much was impossible to capture. I do love Twitter & Facebook for giving me the ability to shout “OMG did you see that??!?” to a bunch of people all at once, even if it’s only digitally. (Related: I really gotta get me one of those new iPhones with video so I can enhance that experience….oy - I shudder to think!) If you follow me on either site you’ve seen plenty of updates and photos already. As soon as we get one done the Tour Picture Album will be linked right here. I know some of you are just not into social media and I get that. But until I get better about blogging in real time, you can always sneak a peek at my Twitter feed on the front page of my website if you want some real time update action.

Another reason I felt the need to go through each day was the fear of forgetting anyone I wanted to thank. I’m sure I’ll wish I’d written something more eloquent and reflective but right now I just don’t want to forget anything so I’m carrying on like Halle Berry at the Oscars. Also, I can’t not acknowledge that I have utterly failed in my “blog once a week” intention. I’m not gonna be mad at myself cuz that would be stupid. But I had an insight about it that perhaps I’ll share once I recover from writing this.

OK. Disclaimers over, here’s my ship’s log-style blog. Oh great. It’s a shblog. Perfect. I'm going to stop talking now and post the bloody behemoth of a thing. Right. Here you go….You might want to make yourself a sandwich.

Thursday 10/14 - Nashville, TN to Plano, TX (TRAVEL DAY) - After the familiar 10-hour drive from Nashville to Dallas I’d done dozens of times, we arrived at the lovely home of our first house concert hosts, Brian & Michelle, who welcomed us in with hugs even though we’d never met in person. (This would continue to happen throughout the tour) Our friend Steve Lawson connected us and vouched for us loudly, all via Twitter. Their 3 cute Shih Tzus were the first of many dogs we met on this tour.

Friday 10/15 – Plano, TX (HOUSE CONCERT) - 0 shows down, 22 to go. Jog, dip in the pool, then house concert with lights, fog and cameras (Brian and his pals shot a gorgeous video of us!) Thank you Brian and Michelle and Brian’s video buddies. Hilarious side note: Brian produces Governor Mike Huckabee’s radio show. Huckabee is a bassist. Hubby Bryan writes for Bass Player Magazine and is also a political junkie. The “ding” that happened when he connected those two dots was audible for blocks. Long story short – Bryan interviewed Huckabee mid-tour and they were both totally stoked. Thank you, Governor.

Saturday 10/16 – Plano,TX to Austin, TX (HOUSE CONCERT) - 1 show down, 21 to go. As Bryan opens the back hatch of the van to load all our stuff in, the handle breaks. Luckily it was with the door open. So we load in all the gear, and while my suitcase enjoys the view from the front seat, I ride in the back of the van holding the door mostly closed (tweeting all the way of course) while we gingerly follow Brian ½ mile to the Toyota place. There, a nice employee named Alex had the tool required to remove the panel so we could access the latch to open the door again (we hadn’t closed it yet since there’s no inside handle…and loading all the gear in and out of the side doors would have really sucked). That was enough to get us on the road to Austin for the show that night at my friend Chris’s house. Thank you, Alex! As we drove, we found a replacement door handle in AZ where we’d be on Monday and called my Dad (who happened to be in AZ for the weekend) and sent him up to fetch said replacement handle. When we got to Austin, as Bryan set up the gear for the show, I went to work in the van with some rope and my brain and rigged the door all MacGuyver-style so we could open it by pulling a rope in the front. Very R&B, with B standing for Beverly Hillbillies in this case. We then played a fabulous house concert to an enthusiastic crowd. Side note: Chris had the coolest deck in town that night with all his living room furniture outside and rented chairs inside. Thank you, Chris! I love my Austin. They tend to love me back, which feels really good. Thank you, my Austin.

Sunday 10/17 – Austin, TX to Deming, NM (TRAVEL DAY) - Woke up at my friend Linda’s house (after sleeping like rocks) to homemade migas. YUMS!! Thank you, Linda. Drove to happy little hotel near AZ/NM border for the night, stopping for two 20-minute mini-vacations on the way: drive through LBJ Ranch (first for both of us) and beer & chili in Luckenbach, TX (first for Yankee Jewdle but my name’s carved on bathroom wall someplace). First of many happy little detours. Thank you, Texas.

Monday 10/18 – Deming, NM to Casa Grande, AZ (HOUSE CONCERT) - 2 shows down, 20 to go. Jog down long, straight, mostly empty highway. Love the Southwest for that. Thank you, the Southwest. Arrive in Casa Grande, AZ where we’re greeted by Aunt Holly, Grandma, Dad, Tuxx the cat and replacement van door handle. Thank you, Dad. After setting up gear in record time we went to work on the door handle, which we proudly fixed ourselves with the help of my uncle’s vast tool collection. I kinda missed the rope but I’m weird like that. Had fabulous, cozy, intimate show. Thank you, Aunt Holly.  Outstanding moments: telling the Bryan-meets-family-for-first-time-and-watches-Paint-Your-Wagon story (that we tell at almost every show) in front of people who were there - absolutely hysterical. And finding out after the show that my uncle’s son (who I hadn’t had many conversations with before) is a big fan of old-school R&B and soul music and loved what we did. I sure didn’t see that one coming. I love being surprised like that – it teaches me to never assume anything. Thank you, Billy.

Tuesday 10/19 – Casa Grande, AZ to Escondido, CA (TRAVEL DAY) -  Bryan and I got married on 10/19/08. That was also the day we lost my Uncle Steve, Holly’s husband. Seeing as how we will always share that anniversary it felt very right to be together that day. Among many other passions, Steve was a serious audiophile. Holly had offered us his ridiculously awesome stereo system and we’d decided it should live at our friend Griff’s house in Escondido since Griff shared that passion and had room for it, unlike us. [When Bryan moved from L.A. to Nashville in 2006, Griff accompanied him on the drive. Their first stop was Steve & Holly’s….and that music room.] Though it required some serious car Tetris on top of all our other gear (mad props to hubby), we got those big speakers and 20 other odd components plus a few boxes of records into the van and headed for Griff’s. We were about 400 feet across the CA line when it started to rain. Hard. Dodging rockslides in the mountains on I-8 in an extra-fully-loaded van in the pouring rain at night was probably one of my least favorite tour moments. (Holy #%^&!!!!) But we made it and were greeted by Griff, his adorably pregnant wife and a bottle of Lagavulin. Ahhhh….peace. Thank you Griff & Vanessa. Thank you people of Islay, Scotland for making Lagavulin. Thank you, Steve - rock on.

Wednesday 10/20 – Escondido to San Diego (LESTAT’s) to Los Angeles - 3 shows down, 19 to go. Bright spots: yummy tacos and soup from some Mexican place in Escondido; finding chiropractor and massage therapist who both passed the I’ve-had-a-bad-back-my-whole-life test; watching Griff experience his own private Christmas morning as he gleefully unwrapped box after box of stereo stuff. Not so bright spots: Bryan spending 2 hours dealing with a simple oil change gone stupid; the fact that rain scares lots of people in Southern California into staying home. Only 8 people came to our show at Lestat’s in San Diego but those were 8 awesome folks and we gave ‘em the best show we could before heading up to L.A. for the night. Thank you Louis at Lestat’s and the San Diego 8.

Thursday 10/21 – Los Angeles, CA (BAKED POTATO) - 4 shows down, 18 to go. Greeted warmly in wee hours of the morning by Brendon no-he’s-not-my-brother Small and Ernie The Dog (just like it says on his tag). After sleeps, Brendon (Dethklok’s fearless leader and creator) and Bryan head into the studio to work on Brendon’s solo record while I hang out with Ernie. Thank you Brendon & Ernie. Jog around reservoir, then off to Baked Potato for gig with pals Doug Johns & Chris Ceja from Cleveland and Roy Vogt from Nashville. Very cool post-gig hang. Thank you Justin at The Baked Potato. Outstanding moment: finding myself standing between two friends who are both total bad ass guitar playing chicks who’ve been in all-girl bands and saying, “Do you guys know each other? Cuz holy crap you really should” I think they were still talking when we left. Epic!

Friday 10/22 – Los Angeles, CA (HOUSE CONCERT) - 5 shows down, 17 to go. More jogging, more metal bass tracking, more conversations with Ernie The Dog. I even went shopping. All by myself. In Los Angeles. For clothes. And I actually bought clothes. That I actually wore that night. This is nothing short of miraculous for my fashion-challenged, so-not-girly ass. [My last clothes-shopping attempt in Nashville lasted 3 hours and resulted in the purchase of 2 candles...one of which I dropped and broke before I made it into my house. Yeah. Miraculous.] With me in new shiny clothes, we played a wicked cool house concert in Chatsworth area hosted by folks from Wisconsin. Cheese! Sausage!! My people!!! Thank you Jen, Chris and Annalese. Spent night at our friend Rick Musallam’s place, welcomed by hugs from Ricky and kisses from Eleanor the cockapoo. Thank you Rick, Lee & Eleanor.

Saturday 10/23 – Los Angeles, CA – Irvine, CA (HOUSE CONCERT) - 6 shows down, 16 to go. First we had to make an appearance at Bass Player Live – convention put on by Bass Player Magazine. Hubby known by everyone in room, of course. Convention bass amp din surely heard by everyone on planet. Thank you, dude who invented earplugs. Saw lots of pals and met a few new ones. Then off to Irvine for house concert at Bryan’s Aunt Ronnie’s house. Greeted by Ronnie, cousins Sam & Cory, and Tiffany the pit bull. I think Bryan actually fell in love with the dog. I’d been telling him it was only a matter of time before the canine cupid got to him…squee! Super-fun, intimate show, highlighted by 16-yr old Cory sitting in on guitar on “Sugar Man” and kicking total ass. Weird small world moment: one of the guests turned out to be the uncle (cousin?) of guitarist I used to work with rather closely but haven’t spoken to in years. The guy was a total card and had us in stitches. Random quote we’re still laughing over: “He’ll be walking like a penguin cuz I’ll rip his arms off!” Topping it all off,  Ronnie made us the cutest “Happy Anniversary” cake. Thank you Ronnie, Cory, Sam, and Tiffany. Made our way to northern-most part of L.A. for sleeps. Delish hotel. Thank you, Priceline.

Sunday 10/24 – Valencia, CA to Redwood City, CA (HOUSE CONCERT) – 7 shows down, 15 to go. It rained almost the whole time we were in CA, which I found quite rude. This super-fun-awesome weather party raged on during our 5 hour drive up to the Bay Area. (Yes, Jane – for the record, it DID stop raining when we got to your house.) But our house concert that night was sold out so our spirits were sunny. Plus when we drove through Gilroy - the town that smells like garlic - I forgot all my troubles. How do you spell the sound of someone drooling? Oh. My. Gaaaaaaahhhhh!!! We were greeted with whoops and hugs by hosts Jane & Deani and a few helpers, including the first of several IRL Tweep meetings: Miss Julie! Ta-da! (WARNING – TWITTER WORMHOLE INQUIRY: So…when you meet a tweep is that like a “meep” or something?? Please tell me it’s not. I’ve clearly been sitting here typing too long. Yipes.) Deani’s cat The Precious greeted us by staring up in horror when we peeked under the blanket she was hiding beneath. Jane’s birds Axl & Dmitri were more up for the hi-nice-to-meet-you game. Or maybe we just looked like trees. Concert was PACKED and wicked awesome. After the guests had gone, we gathered around the TV to watch the Metalocalype season 3 finale like it was the fricking Waltons before conking out for the night. Aww. Thank you Jane & Deani & Julie & Axl & Dmitri. OK you too The Precious.

Monday 10/25 – Redwood City, CA to Napa, CA (DAY OFF) - Hubby interviews Huckabee in one room while Deani and I enjoy Jane-cooked grilled cheese sandwiches and try to be quiet in the next. After a stupid 2-hour adventure chasing down a technical problem we head for Napa to have dinner with family. Stopped in Vallejo long enough to see little brother’s new place there, have quick taste of yummy soup his girlfriend Claire made, and watch their new cat Mortimer acrobat his way across the kitchen, leaving a broken shot glass in his dust. Awesome. Toasted their new place with Lagavulin from Griff & Vanesssa in remaining non-broken glassware. Caravanned up to Napa for delicious home-cooked dinner at cousin Connie & husband Jim’s. They have like 4 different wine cellars….we were all pretty warm and smiley by night’s end. Thank you, Connie & Jim. Thank you Napa & Sonoma Valley wine makers.

Tuesday 10/26 – Napa, CA to Arcata, CA (MOSGO’s) – 8 shows down, 14 to go. We are now in territory I’ve never been in and I am SO excited. First we get to see Napa and Sonoma in the daylight. Holy crap that’s pretty. Then long, windy drive up 101 through redwoods. Wow. We hit a deer somewhere on that drive – just grazed him, thank God. Left us with only a tiny scratch. Hopefully same goes for the deer. Show at cute coffee shop in Arcata was sparsely populated, even though we’d had a nice write-up in the paper. Thank you, Kevin Hoover of the Arcata Eye. It was a Tuesday and we were passing through anyway. We weren’t upset. Local singer-songwriter stuck her head in out of curiosity and stayed for awhile out of genuine interest. She and her 11-yr old daughter have been playing “I Will Raise My Voice” every morning since on the way to school. Ladies and gents: This Is Why I Do What I Do – stuff like that. Thank you, Joanne and daughter. Thank you Mosgo’s. Spent night at home of a friend’s mom whom we met only that day. Greeted by said mom and her two dogs. She sent us downstairs to our guest apartment (!) with a plate of cheese and crackers and fruit. ADORABLE! Thank you, Judy (and Rachel – you have a cool mom).

Wednesday 10/27 – Arcata, CA to Gold Beach, OR – (DAY OFF) –   Woke up to discover the splendor of the redwoods around us. After sorting out our indie-musician business at the bank we had a crazy yummy breakfast made even yummier by my favorite Sam Cooke CD playing in the background. Thank you, Sam Cooke. Then we were off to Gold Beach, OR where we’d rented a rustic cottage on the coast complete with fireplace and nearby deck with 2 hot tubs. This was our declared “anniversary celebration day” since the 19^th had been filled with other stuff. Turns out Dylan and Claire had stayed at the exact place a month earlier. Since we’d booked it online 2 months earlier it seemed pretty astounding. But upon reflection, its not surprising that “Ireland’s Rustic Lodges” caught the eye of both the McConaghy siblings. After some time in the hot tub we went to a tiny restaurant Dylan & Claire had recommended for a memorable meal cooked by a hilarious man. Then back to the cottage where we built a fire and opened the bottle of wine Jim & Connie snuck into our bag before we left Napa. In my mind, heaven smells like a log cabin with a fireplace by the ocean. Thank you, Ireland’s Rustic Lodges and the cavedude who discovered fire.

Thursday 10/28 – Gold Beach, OR to Portland, OR (CAMELLIA LOUNGE) – 9 shows down, 13 to go. Since this was my first time in Oregon, I was positively agog at the sight of it. It’s stunning – both on the coast and inland. We had the best damn fish & chips we’d ever eaten in tiny Port Orford after instinctively followed the signs for a place called Griff’s On the Dock. “Griff” was not joking when he named this joint. Literally down on the end of the dock past the industrial buildings and boats sits this glorified fishing shanty about 40 feet from the water. Of course it’s precious inside – about 6 tables, souvenirs, even a “museum” of stuff hauled up from nearby waters. We couldn’t believe we were sitting there. Definitely one of those “my kingdom for a head cam” moments. With happy bellies we made our way to Portland for a great show in a great room. More yummy foods and lovely people – including my dad again, who was working in Portland for a few weeks. We accused him of stalking our tour and invited him to please continue. Dads are especially kind to the donation bucket in my experience. Thank you, Dad. Again. Thank you Camellia Lounge. Lodging for the evening was an arranged-on-Facebook-in-10-minutes-friend-of-a-friend scenario that could not have been lovelier. For opening your home to traveling musicians and kitties who need fostering while they get over a cold, a very hearty Thank you, Chris.

Friday 10/29 – Portland, OR to Seattle, WA (HOUSE CONCERT) – 10 shows down, 12 to go. This house concert was particularly unique in that it was co-hosted by two musicians, Harry Wirth & Andrew Vait. Harry did all the organizing and his friend Andrew provided the house and opening set. Harry ended up getting a gig the night of the show (yay gig!) so he had to leave before we started (boo gig). Despite being in a tight space up a bunch of stairs, the vibe was awesome and the show was too. This was also probably the most eclectic collection of audience members. Neat mix of old friends of both of ours (including one I hadn’t seen since high school) and new ones (Tweep #2 – The lovely Sarah!) Thank you Andrew Vait for an epic opening set (complete with Beller-joined Pink Floyd song) and Harry Wirth for hosting action above and beyond the call without the benefit of seeing the show. We owe you one. Memorable moment: we’re loading our gear out at the end of the night when one of Andrew’s housemates emerges from the attic where she’d been for the last 6 hours – including when Andrew phoned her to ask about something in the house. We don’t know why she never came down for the show but she will heretofore be known as “Attic Troll”.

Saturday 10/30 – Bellevue, WA (BASS CLINIC @ ROBERT’S MUSIC INSTITUTE) to Aberdeen, WA (HOUSE CONCERT) – 11 shows down, 11 to go. Oy – doubleheader! First up: the first of several bass instructional clinics Bryan did on the tour. This one was sponsored by Mike Lull Custom Basses, the brand that Bryan lovingly plays and endorses and whose custom shop is across the street from where the clinic took place. Thank you, Mike & Paul at Mike Lull. Bryan never fails to impress when he’s in a clinic setting. I never fail to impress with my MacGuyver-wife skills, which I employed here by using drum sticks and duct tape to prop up the Mike Lull banner behind him. We all have our gifts. 12 shows down, 10 to go. After a great clinic, we raced out of there and drove through the rain to Aberdeen for a house concert style show at a local music store. Our host, Bill, had been concerned about turn-out so imagine our surprise when 30 people showed up in the rain for a stranding room only show. One couple even came in after they saw all the cars and wondered what was happening. Yeah!! FABULOUS show, complete with spontaneous rendition of “Love Will Keep Us Together” after a few Captain & Tenille references. Rather hate that there’s no video of that, that we know of at least. Hotel was awesome and only ½ mile down the street. We collapsed into bed and didn’t move for about 10 hours. Aberdeen FTW. Thank you Bill and Les at Les Blues Music. You guys rule.

Sunday 10/31 – Aberdeen, WA to Missoula, MT (TRAVEL DAY) –  Since we didn’t often have the luxury, we couldn’t be budged from our room until the last possible second before check-out time. We needed the rest but it did put much of our scenic drive in the dark. Oops. That plus a leisurely lunch in Puyallup where I got a hilarious picture of a pumpkin carved to look like it was puking. We did see this wild horse monument thing in western Washington somewhere that we scampered up to investigate near dusk…but after Spokane it was dark all the way to Missoula. We hated missing that scenery but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to move any faster. Thank you, Puking Pumpkin at the Pumphouse in Puyallup.

Monday 11/1 – Missoula, MT to Bozeman, MT (BASS CLINIC @ MUSIC VILLA) – 13 shows down, 9 to go. Really cool clinic in super-cool music store with most excellent tee-shirt selection! They gave us a few each and I think I had one or the other on at least every other day for the rest of the tour. What made Bozeman special for me – besides being Bozeman and being glorious – is that one of my very best girlfriends lives there and she and Bryan had not met yet. That was a hug that was a long time coming. She fed us a delicious dinner and we conked out in her son’s bedroom after a cuddle with the most mellow golden retriever ever created. Thank you, Antoinette and Hawika.

Tuesday 11/2 – Bozeman, MT to Glendive, MT (TRAVEL DAY) –  After a leisurely day of visiting we went for a dip in the nearby hot springs – a first for both me and Bryan. Oooo I loved it!! Hot/cold/hot/cold….my body was very happy. After homemade enchiladas and oil change #2 of the tour, we were on our way. We landed at a seriously janky-looking motel but it was our only option for the night. We ended up resting better there than we had in awhile. Who knew…

Wednesday 11/3 – Glendive, MT to Bismarck, ND (BASS CLINIC @ ECKROTH MUSIC) to Jamestown, ND – 14 shows down, 8 to go. My morning jog took me behind the restaurant next to the hotel and something smelled pretty good. We hadn’t had a sit-down breakfast yet on the tour so we decided to go for it. As is our custom when traveling, we asked our waitress what we HAD to have. Worked like crazy with the fish & chips. She admitted to being the only vegan in a 300-mile radius but she’d heard the sausage and the bacon were particularly good. So we both ordered some sort of country breakfast and OhMyGodInHeavenItWasIncredibleTimesFifty!! Bryan has mentioned it every day since and probably will for a good long while. Thank you, vegan waitress – whatever floats your boat but you’re missing out on some ridonkulously good pork products. Just sayin’. My shoulder had tweaked out on the drive the day before so Bryan called Eckroth Music just to ask if they might know of a massage place nearby. “Across the hall? Yeah that’ll do fine.” Forrealz??!? Sweet! So while Bryan got his clinic started, I got my shoulder de-knotted. Thank you nice massage lady whose name I’ve forgotten. Rest of the clinic went great. Thank you Bob & everyone at Eckroth, and thank you D’Addario Strings for sponsoring the clinic. Quick 100-mile drive and we bedded down in Jamestown, ND for the night at another suspicious-looking but somehow extremely restful motel. Whatever.

Thursday 11/4 – Jamestown, ND to Minneapolis, MN (HOUSE CONCERT) – 15 shows down, 7 to go. Ever since we left Aberdeen, WA and headed back east the weather had been clear and gorgeous. (The Midwest totally kicked California’s ass in the weather department on this tour…she said proudly in her Wisconsin accent…Thank you, The Midwest) This day was no exception as we drove across Minnesota. We arrived at the beautiful home of a 15-year old cat named Kittywampus – who greeted us with a sniff, glare, hiss, and retreat. This was also the home of Tom & Sue, and their son Daniel. A student at McNally Smith College of Music, Daniel had been to Bryan’s bass clinic there last year and was eager to find a way to host us. He talked his folks into it and in turn, won them over to the house concert concept. Their friends, his friends and a few of our friends in the area followed suit, including parents of one of our friends from Berklee days as well as girlfriend of mine I hadn’t seen since my first wedding. Whoa. WONDERFUL show. Kudos to Daniel for pulling it off and managing it so well – you’re hired, dude. Perhaps the coolest part was the hang afterward with gang from McNally Smith. Bryan and I still feel like those 20-year old music school kids with wide eyes and huge dreams while realizing we are now the grown-up pros they’re looking to for tales from the real world. Cosmic. Thank you Tom, Sue, Daniel, all the McNally Smith kids, and Kittywampus.

Friday 11/5 – Minneapolis, MN to Marshfield, WI (WILDWOOD PARK PAVILION) – 16 shows down, 6 to go. Tying for “coolest part” of previous night’s concert was Grace – age 11 I think – whose uber-cool parents allowed her to stay up past her bedtime on a school night to see the show because it was inspiring her. So awesome. Miss Grace (aka The Chicken Whisperer) brought fresh eggs from her hens to the concert that we had for breakfast. SO yummy! Thank you, Grace...thank you, hens. That got us on our way to Marshfield, WI where we played as part of Brian Sauer’s Vox Concert Series. This was my third time playing the series and I have to hand it to Brian for being a force for original live music in that town for at least 5 years now. Thank you, Brian. We played a fun show to a small but lively crowd and then hastened off to the best burger joint in town: a bar called (swear to God) “Nutz Deep”. We can’t make these things up. In a happy beer & burger coma, we retreated to the hotel.

Saturday 11/6 – Marshfield, WI to Madison, WI (HOUSE CONCERT) – 17 shows down, 5 to go. I spent most of this drive like the day before – snapping pictures of the red and white barns (and black & white cows) that for some reason always help me know I’m home. There was one of each just down the road from where I grew up – maybe that’s it. Needless to say, lovely drive into Madison. We arrived first at our host’s mother’s condo, where we were staying the night, to find no ordinary crash pad…and no ordinary mother. Stunning 9^th floor unit 2 blocks from Capitol Square overlooking Lake Monona (with view of Lake Mendota too) filled floor to ceiling with books and pictures and souvenirs from Miss Irma’s 80 plus years of living adventurously. A former Executive Director of the Washington D.C. ACLU (think I got that right) who has traveled all over the world, she was packing for her annual winter move to Puerto Vallarta when we arrived but had stopped to make us some soup. Go on with your bad self, Irma. You’re officially added to my list of people I want to be when I grow up. Concert was hosted by Irma’s son Arthur and his wife Dori, whom I’ve known since I was a teenager through the Unitarian Church I grew up in. The concert - which was originally scheduled for Irma’s place before her “Screw you, Wisconsin winter! I’m going to Mexico” departure date changed – was held in a sweet little Unitarian church that felt more like a house than anything else. While there was plenty of food and drink for the body, my soul was warmed and fed by a sign close to me on the sanctuary wall which read “We believe all people need a voice.” I was struck into uncharacteristic stillness by how connected I felt in that moment to the tradition in which I was raised. It seems to be the nature of human existence to come full circle again and again, don’t you think? I sang from my heart to a charming crowd of friendly faces old and new – including a long-time fan/friend of Bryan’s, a woman whose kids I babysat in the church nursery as a 12-year-old and hadn’t seen since, and the pianist from one of my classes at the Berklee summer program I taught in July – Neara from Wisconsin and Kira from Wisconsin – destined to be pals. Awesome sidebar: Neara’s dad (who came to the concert too) after reading Bryan’s post about how much we adore our touring vehicle, went out and bought a Toyota Sienna for himself…leaving his previous car to Neara for her upcoming move to L.A. This just gets a big ol’ YAY. Thank you, Dori & Arthur, thank you Irma, thank you Prairie Unitarian Universalist Society, and thank you to our Toyota Sienna.

Sunday 11/7 – Madison, WI to Chicago, IL (TIKI TERRACE) – 18 shows down, 4 to go. Daylight savings time – fall back – oh thank you thank you thank you!!!! Hubby and I travel really well together but we were each ready for a little time on our own. All he wanted to do was sit in one place with his computer, undisturbed by the ADD kid he married who was dying to go outside and run around with no plan heading in whatever direction caught her fancy. (He calls this tendency of mine "boinging".) This was the morning we FINALLY had a few hours to indulge ourselves. Thank you Daylight Savings Time. We zipped down to Chicago – both enormously refreshed by our separate experiences – and arrived at the Tiki Terrace in Des Plaines. I’d been hearing about this place for a while, as it’s the favorite haunt of our friends and hosts for the evening, Bob & Tita. It totally lived up to its reputation. Hawaiian-themed throughout, the walls were covered with hand-carved statues and there were giant Easter Island statue dudes on the stage behind us that I affectionately dubbed Frik & Frak. Adding to the awesomesauce was the appearance of The Wienermobile outside before the show. Its drivers had dinner at Tiki and left before the show, but not before at least a dozen people took at least 100 pictures because who can resist a giant hot dog on wheels with a license plate that says “Oh I Wish”? I mean, really… This was one of several shows along the tour where our hosts experienced what we’ve been though before – the chasm between all the folks who say they’d “love to come to that and will totally be there” and those who actually make it through the door. But we haven’t had a show yet where someone didn’t say “Oh my God this was so good. If I’d known, I would have had more people here.” One show at a time, one person at a time. Tell your friends, folks. Thank you Bob & Tita. Thank you Tiki Terrace. Thank you Wienermobile and Frik & Frak.

Monday 11/8 – Chicago, IL to Newton, IA (TRAVEL DAY) –  Jog around Bob & Tita’s Mt. Prospect neighborhood, where folks were watering their lawns…WTF?? It was close to 70 degrees but it was still November in Chicago and that’s just wrong somehow. Leisurely drive to Newton, IA where we are ecstatic to be in the motel room by 8pm. Confirmed 12pm check-out time with clerk and headed inside to do nothing but get in the bed and watch Conan O’Brian be more hilarious than ever on the debut of his new show. Happy happy joy joy.

Tuesday 11/9 – Newton, IA to Omaha, NE (HOUSE CONCERT) – 19 shows down, 3 to go. Dear morning dude at Super 8 in Newton, IA: FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE-FACED GUY WHO KNOCKED UP YOUR MOM. Remember that confirmed 12pm check-out time we were so happy about? Apparently morning dude didn’t get the same memo as evening dude. We take our check-out times very seriously since we have precious little time in hotels where we get to stand still and not be "on". After waking early, Bryan was attempting to sneak in a 45-minute nap before we left for Omaha. Dude called at 11:10 and rudely told us to get out because “you are the last room and my housekeeper is waiting for you”. Me: “we were told check out was 12”. Dude, “No it is 11. You have 10 minutes to get out.” Me: “We’re not ready to go” Dude “You need to be out by 11:30 or you will be charged for another night.” I hung up just as Bryan was waking up and reaching for the phone with HULK SMASH written all over his face. Let’s just say the next 15 minutes were not pretty. We made it out before 11:30, and Bryan managed to, uh, encourage an apology out of this douchebag, but it took awhile to shake that buzz kill. We did manage to improve our moods by the time we landed in Omaha and were greeted by hosts Ryan & Tonya, their little dogs Ziggy & Foxy (I think?) and Bryan’s friend Heather who’d put the whole thing together. Show was lots of fun, especially with local metal-cover-playing-banjo duo Banjo Loco opening up for us. Hilarious! Thank you Ryan & Tonya and Banjo Loco. Camp for the night was Heather & Drew’s place across town, where Heather fed us late-night lasagna. Thank you Heather & Drew.

Wedneday 11/10 – Omaha, NE to Kansas City, MO (HOUSE CONCERT) – 20 shows down, 2 to go. After sleeping for like 2 hours, Heather got up and worked her 4am shift at UPS. She came home just as we were waking up and used her box-throwing Linda Hamilton-in-The-Terminator-looking arms to whip us up a quiche. She really is every woman. Remind me never to piss her off or try to out-cook her. All quiched up, we headed for Kansas City for the last duo show of the tour. Our host for the evening, “Kansas City Dave”, a long-time Beller friend and supporter, was one of the very first to respond to our who-wants-to-host-a-show call. Our poster on the door let us know we were at the right house. Inside, Dave and his dear wife Kelli were hard at work preparing the house for our arrival. Kelli had all the Christmas decorations out (whee!) and was preparing munchies while Dave showed me the special refrigerator stocked with several kinds of dark beer-snob approved beer. The crowd was bountiful, super-attentive and very enthusiastic, even though some of them ended up in audience jail. (You’ll have to see the pictures) We couldn’t have ended on a higher note. Thank you Dave and Kelli, and thanks also to Seth & Zach for rearranging yourselves for a night so we had a room to sleep in.

Thursday 11/11 – Kansas City, MO to St. Louis, MO (BASS CLINIC @ GUITAR CENTER) - 21 shows down, 1 to go. Veteran’s Day. In the morning we said hi to Kelli’s dad, a WWII vet, and got to meet the yellow labs who’d been at the kennel for the evening. (We’ve sent our share of dogs to doggie overnight camp – sorry, pals!!) At Starbucks on the way out of town I left $10 to buy a few veterans some coffee. I hope it worked. It was a tiny thing but it was something I could do, better than nothing. Nothing can ever say “Thank you, Veterans” enough. I was already reeling a bit from the duo portion of our tour being over but Bryan still had a clinic to do so I did my best to get over myself. We decided to set up the keyboard and end the clinic with an original song as opposed to the bass/vocal version of “Ain’t No Sunshine” we usually close clinics with. Set up was a bit rough but attendance was the best of all the clinic tours. Kansas City Dave drove over with a friend, some of my family was there (my aunt bopping along to Dethklok was too priceless) and we met two more Tweeps – Amy and Joe – also known as Clatter. They’re another musical couple who drove over 2 hours each way to see Bryan’s clinic. So awesome! As if the universe had been conspiring to bring us together, we found out that we had inadvertently gotten off at their exit earlier in the drive in search of wifi at the McDonalds. Fast friends for sure. Thank you Clatter! Local bassist friend David Karns brought friends to the clinic and then moved the party to one of those friend’s family restaurant where we had a splendid dinner. On them. Thank you, David and Neil – most generous of you both. Then we made our way back to the nice hotel we’d splurged on for the end of the tour and passed out. Thank you, nice hotel.

Friday 11/12 – St. Louis, MO to Nashville, TN – El-done-o! Actually we weren’t quite el-done-o yet….we still had a radio show to tape. Like the marketing geniuses we are, we did a promotional radio thing after the tour was over. Alright! High five, team! After we availed ourselves of all the hotel had to offer…hot tub (not to be missed at any point in a month-long van tour)…eggs benedict (my craving for these when I wake up in a nice hotel is downright Pavlovian)…and the glorious check-out time of 1pm…we made our way to the KDHX studios. Greeted by a smiling Dan Kinney, we recorded several songs and an interview segment for his show “Smoking Lounge”. Even though the tour was over (we couldn’t have recorded the segment in time for any of the shows on this tour anyway) he wanted to help us promote future bookings and the house concert concept in particular. It ended up being a really cool way to document the progress we’d made on the tour.  We played really well, were super-relaxed and had the mojo of a month on the road up underneath us. It was actually a really great way to end the tour and we left there smiling and overflowing with gratitude for all the support we’d received along the way. It’s a wonderful combination of humbling and fortifying at the same time. Bottom line is we’re encouraged to keep doing what we do because people keep being moved and inspired by it. I’ll take it. Thank you, Dan Kinney and KDHX. We found a tapas restaurant a few blocks away and had a yummy late lunch before we hit the road for home. Six hours later I broke into tears when we unlocked the door and Lucian jumped right up into my arms. Thank you, Lucian. I missed you too, baby.

I’m a really lucky girl. And I'm ready to go out again tomorrow.

And now, in the interest of promoting my independent music career, I give you my most recent email about our upcoming tour. Cheating? Who cares. We're going on tour and we busted our asses to put it together. And there is important info I really want folks to know about how house concerts work.

Besides, this is your chance - if you're NOT on my mailing list, to see how hilarious and charming I am. There is also a picture of my cat. He's quite helpful. And by "helpful" I mean "not at all helpful, actually, but obnoxiously cute". Read please:

***sent 9/20/2010***

"My friends -

Holy frijole stromboli Jeff Spiccoli have we got a T-O-U-R coming up!! I'm not even gonna say anything else until I show you this:

KIRA SMALL w/BRYAN BELLER - "RAISE MY VOICE" TOUR 2010

10/15 - Plano, TX - house concert - very limited seating available (almost sold out!)
10/16 - Austin, TX - house concert - seating available
10/18 - Casa Grande, AZ - house concert - very limited seating available
10/20 - San Diego, CA - Lestat's
10/21 - Studio City (L.A.), CA - "The Low Show" @ The Baked Potato (w/Doug Johns & Roy Vogt)
10/22 - Chatsworth, CA - house concert - seating available 
10/23 - Irvine, CA - house concert - very limited seating available
10/24 - Redwood City (SanFran), CA - house concert - seating available
10/26 - Arcata, CA - Mosgo's
10/28 - Portland, OR - The Camellia Lounge @ TeaZone
10/29 - Seattle, WA - house concert - limited seating available
10/30 - Bellevue, WA - BB bass clinic @ Mike Lull Custom Basses (afternoon) (co-sponsored by Bass Northwest)
10/30 - Aberdeen, WA - house concert @ Les Blues Music Company (evening) - seating available 
11/1 - Bozeman, MT - BB bass clinic @ Music Villa (sponsored by D'Addario)
11/3 - Bismarck, ND - BB bass clinic @ Eckroth Music (sponsored by D'Addario)
11/4 - Minneapolis, MN - house concert - very limited seating available
11/5 - Marshfield, WI - Vox Concert Series @ Wildwood Park Pavilion
11/6 - Madison, WI - house concert - limited seating available
11/7 - Des Plains (Chicago), IL - Tiki Terrace
11/9 - Omaha, NE - house concert - very limited seating available
11/10 - Kansas City, MO - house concert - seating available
11/11 - St. Louis, MO - BB bass clinic @ Guitar Center St. Louis (Bridgeton) (sponsored by D'Addario)

WHOA!!?*!%!!!

As Jillian Michaels says repeatedly on my fat-burning workout DVD, "I mean, really...?" Yes, Jillian, REALLY. As you can see, there are some traditional venue shows and Beller bass clinics on this tour, but there are more house concerts than anything else. (squeee!) Here's the thing I want you guys to really get about house concerts, OK, so PAY ATTENTION AND READ THIS PART:

THE DEAL WITH HOUSE CONCERTS IS THIS:  they're all technically private shows. But that does not mean you can't come to them! Because that would be just silly. ("We're doing this great thing! You can't come! Nya-nya-pppffffllltttt!!!" NOT!) They're private in that they're primarily in people's homes. We don't publicize our hosts' addresses out of respect for their privacy. They're private in that all of these events are by reservation only. Since each house has only so much space, we have to know exactly how many people are coming so we know we have room for them. They're private in that there is no "admission" charge - that would cross some home/business boundary lines, which is both a no-no and a buzzkill. Instead, a "suggested donation" amount is collected, going directly to the artists (that's us) which supports their ability to travel around and play for people (that's you).

The bottom line is we want you to come to a house concert! There might not be room at all of them for everyone who wants to come, but if we're coming to a living room near you and you'd like to see us, please send us a note to inquire. We think they're the most fun ever and if you've never experienced one you're missing out.

GRATUITOUS LINK TO OUR CNN.com HOUSE CONCERT STORY RIGHT HERE!

Of course the venue shows are wide open to the public - we want you to come to those too! :) And despite the name, Bryan's bass clinics aren't just for bassists. If you're a fan of his music, any of the folks he's played with (like Steve Vai, Dethklok, Mike Keneally), or just curious about how a guy like him does what he does, come on out. Or if you just want to see us while we're in town and that's the only event on the schedule, come on down. I'll be there too, maybe even singing a song.

Updates and further info about ALL of these shows is available, as always, on the calendar page of my website. Please know that we couldn't do what we do without your support and love - thank you so, so much. See you on the road!!

xo,

Kira

www.kirasmall.com

All communications from kirasmall.com are screened by Lucian the Wondercat, Editor-At-Large:

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Second trip was to Nova Scotia & New Brunswick where we were looking for info about my great-great-great grandfather, Bartholomew McConaghy who landed at St. John when he came over on the boat from Ireland. The lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove was pretty bitching. We didn’t have much luck in the ancestor hunting department but we did discover that “Lyle is Lord”, at least over a particular section of New Brunswick according to several graffiti postings. We of course thought that was almost as hilarious as the fact that all the gas stations were named Irving. Just a few weeks ago I saw that Dad still has at least one Irving hat – awesome! Nothing was as epic, however, as me getting my first migraine in Quebec City. I went from lying on the floor of the place we’d just ordered crepes to puking in the car just as we’d pulled up to the same hotel we’d checked out of an hour earlier. Dad was wishing I could have waited just 30 more seconds until we got into the room before zorking like crazy but it was only fair after he’d had the audacity to take a picture while we were on our way back there. True, there was nowhere we could go, red light and all, but didn’t he know I was dying in the passenger seat and shouldn’t he be calling Le 911 or something and not “taking a picture at a time like this???!?” Horrifying then, but utterly hilarious ever since.

I am reminded of these trips and the others we took as Bryan and I travel around. Am I saying I married my father? Truthfully the jury’s still out as to whether I married my father or Bryan’s father but that’s a whole other blog and I’m so not going there. Bryan definitely married his mother if that counts for anything. I digress – I know – shocking.

Here’s the real reason I’m having road trip flashbacks… the AAA books have been replaced by the iPhone. As Bryan drives I’m googling merrily all the way. Pretty sure it started as we were leaving Fredericksburg, VA one day last year and drove through a bunch of Civil War battlefield sites. I started reading and we were both totally riveted reading about Lee’s “perfect battle” at Chancellorsville while we drove through where it all happened. This past weekend en route to Lynchburg, VA we read up on Appomattox, which was the site of General Lee’s meeting with Lt. General Grant to discuss terms of surrender. We were moved by the humanity, dignity, honor and grace with which the whole experience was handled - on both parts - at least as it was described in what we read. Here’s a link to the page:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Appomattox_Court_House

We were floored by the beauty of a passage written by Brig. General Joshua L. Chamberlain, who was the Union officer selected to lead the formal surrender ceremony. The words he wrote after taking part in that event were elegant and powerful:

The momentous meaning of this occasion impressed me deeply. I resolved to mark it by some token of recognition, which could be no other than a salute of arms. Well aware of the responsibility assumed, and of the criticisms that would follow, as the sequel proved, nothing of that kind could move me in the least. The act could be defended, if needful, by the suggestion that such a salute was not to the cause for which the flag of the Confederacy stood, but to its going down before the flag of the Union. My main reason, however, was one for which I sought no authority nor asked forgiveness. Before us in proud humiliation stood the embodiment of manhood: men whom neither toils and sufferings, nor the fact of death, nor disaster, nor hopelessness could bend from their resolve; standing before us now, thin, worn, and famished, but erect, and with eyes looking level into ours, waking memories that bound us together as no other bond;—was not such manhood to be welcomed back into a Union so tested and assured? Instructions had been given; and when the head of each division column comes opposite our group, our bugle sounds the signal and instantly our whole line from right to left, regiment by regiment in succession, gives the soldier's salutation, from the "order arms" to the old "carry"—the marching salute. Gordon at the head of the column, riding with heavy spirit and downcast face, catches the sound of shifting arms, looks up, and, taking the meaning, wheels superbly, making with himself and his horse one uplifted figure, with profound salutation as he drops the point of his sword to the boot toe; then facing to his own command, gives word for his successive brigades to pass us with the same position of the manual,—honor answering honor. On our part not a sound of trumpet more, nor roll of drum; not a cheer, nor word nor whisper of vain-glorying, nor motion of man standing again at the order, but an awed stillness rather, and breath-holding, as if it were the passing of the dead!

– Joshua L. Chamberlain, Passing of the Armies, pp. 260-61

My great-great grandfather on my mom’s side was a soldier in the Union Army at age 16. His unit (64^th Illinois Sharpshooters) was part of the group that captured Atlanta in 1864. (Um…sorry about that, Atlanta…no hard feelings? We’d still like to play some gigs there if that’s cool…) With brief exception, I’ve lived in the south for a long time now. It’s bizarre to think of my teenaged ancestor shooting the place up.

Why am I talking about all this? I guess just because I felt pulled by the history and my varied and random connections to it. On one hand it seems silly that a couple of hippie musicians rolling between house concerts in a minivan or a teenager and her dad escaping Wisconsin in March in a Saab would be connected to such things…but then I hear Woody Guthrie’s words and it makes perfect sense. It makes me sad to think about how many people in this country haven’t seen even half of it. That could just be the Midwesterner in me defending “flyover country”…but I think there’s more to it.

I think my point may have finally dawned on me! (I know - somebody ring me a fricking bell...What's more impressive is that this post might actually HAVE a point. Make a note in the log.) Here it is: TAKE A ROAD TRIP!! Go somewhere you’ve never been. Better yet, just point the car and drive. Bring a traveling companion (preferably one who can read...no offense, Fluffy...) and a smart phone - or some AAA books – and just go see some stuff. There’s an awful lot out there to see.

The song that’s really hitting people is “I Will Raise My Voice”. When I introduce that song I tell people that for as gregarious as I seem to be I still have to really summon the courage to speak when there’s something on my heart to say. Truth is I have to summon the courage to speak A LOT. I also say I know I’m not the only one that’s true for, but I’m finding out night after night just how many of you feel the same way. That’s a real gift to me because every night, singing that song is scary. I’m afraid it’s too long, too heavy, too preachy, too whiney, too self-indulgent, too much information… But I’m understanding more each day that it’s too important not to sing. Not important like la-dee-frickin-da look at me making relevant social commentary – but important enough that inevitably someone is moved to thank me for it at the end of the night. To me that’s more important than relevant social commentary (and not just because most of that goes over my head).

I have to rip my heart open to sing - that song especially. But that’s when the singing’s really good. I promised myself I would sing that song at every show I play. Because if I don’t, I’m reinforcing the very fear it was written to exorcise.

I will raise my voice – though I may be afraid
I will raise my voice – I will not be ashamed
Mine may only be a simple song but it’s mine to sing
And if I don’t sing no one can sing along so I will sing
Whether in pain or in praise
Until the end of my days
With all my heart I will raise my voice

That goes for every time I’m in a less than pristine listening environment too, like when I’m singing my heart out and someone 10 feet away is talking their head off. I mean for the love of God, people, don’t do that to someone while they’re singing or one of these days one of us is going to go all Steven Slater on your ass. I admit I have fantasies about saying something like “Ma’am I will happily give you your $15 back if you will take your conversation elsewhere so that the people who came to listen to the music can FUCKING HEAR IT.” As gratifying as I imagine that would be, I don’t think I could ever do it. First because I suck at tell-offs and second because I don’t think I could recover from it and keep singing and that would defeat the whole purpose. Damn.

I saw a twitter post recently that said something like “Talking while people are listening to live music is like dancing in front of the TV while someone’s watching a movie.” It’s rude as hell and I have a hard time not getting upset when it happens to me, no matter how many zen thoughts I think. I’ll be the first to admit I have a real hard-on for rudeness (not exactly channeling Ghandi in that regard, I know) but to me that behavior goes beyond rude and crosses over into some other realm. It feels personal. I know it’s not but I can’t help taking it that way sometimes. (Uber-sensitive Pisces heart ripped open in song = big honking magnet for imagined personal affronts.) I’ve been in tears many times after nights like that and thought to myself “That’s it – I can’t do this anymore – it breaks my heart too much. Time to go teach math.” But not singing would break my heart even more – which brings me back to why I wrote “I Will Raise My Voice” and why I will sing it everywhere I go. It’s my touchstone, my lifeline, my calling, my purpose. And I know it’s my gift – the one given to me and the one I have to give. If I don’t sing no one can sing along – so I will sing.

So to every one who’s ever thanked me at the end of the night – thank you. I really needed that.

Know what I’m really good at though? Stubbing my toe. I stubbed it so good yesterday I broke it. My poor little toe! It’s all purple and red and taped to the one next to it. I thought about posting a picture here but my friend Tracy advised against it, apparently from prior experience. Feel free to silently thank her now.

Whenever I’m experiencing a physical symptom I make it a point to inquire into the possible mental cause for that particular malady. Yes, body? What am I trying to tell me? A friend gave me a wonderful book many years ago called You Can Heal Your Life, written by Louise Hay. It’s been a consistent go-to resource for me when in need of self-reflection and inspiration. But the section I go to most is the one where she connects physical symptoms to probable mental causes. That’s some fascinating shit. For example – she says the throat represents our ability to speak up for ourselves and ask for what we want and that when we have throat problems it’s because we don’t feel we have the right to do those things. Or that our creativity is stifled. Whenever I have throat issues I ask myself “What am I not saying? What am I afraid to say?” I’ve had low back pain for years now. Louise says that’s related to fear around money, support, etc. This smells familiar.

Sometimes the suggested “causes” ring true for me and sometimes not, but I always find the inquiry worth doing. So of course I looked up my broken toe. She says breaks and fractures are rebelling against authority. No bells going off there. Then I looked up toes, which she says represent the minor details of the future. *DingDingDing* We have a winner!!!! Bryan and I are in the midst of planning a month-long cross-country duo tour and I have had some stupefyingly mental episodes fretting about how all the pieces are going to fit together. This falls right into my weak spot wheelhouse. I enjoy having lots going on but I have to be careful or my head will start swirling. If left unchecked I can whup up such a whirlwind up there that I am literally paralyzed, unable to take a step for fear I’ll use the wrong foot and there will be dire and irreversible consequences from which I will never recover. Historically, that swirl/fear has kept me from starting things more times than I’d like to admit.

As if there’s an actual, exists-in-the-universe, no shit “right way” to do anything. There’s not. It’s almost guaranteed that I will forget this again. Repeatedly. Hopefully confessing this stuff here will serve as a reminder. Hopefully I won’t need to break another toe.

As I'm sure is the case at most reunions, there was a constant contrapuntal round of “so what have you been up to?” ringing out. Some folks brought their kids, a few of those kids are almost as old as we were when we saw each other last. Some have moved away, many are still nearby. Everyone seemed pretty happy – and genuinely so. That was cool to see. What really struck me was how many people seemed impressed/inspired that I was “still doing it,” as most of them put it. I did my level best to soak up and mentally freeze every single one of those exchanges – especially the parts where they said “good for you – keep going!!” I’ve been on the brink of quitting more than once. “Screw this madness – I’m gonna go have babies and teach math.” [Related back story: I actually lettered in math in high school. The only sport my school had was girls’ tennis. Had there been football players and cheerleaders I likely would have caught a lot more shit than I did for the big nerd patch on my jacket.] I’m feeling wonderful about my chosen life path right now - stronger than ever, in fact. But knowing the volatile nature of my emotions as I do, I plan to stash the memory of those interactions away as an insurance policy to be called upon the next time I have an attack of the “screw this”es. Maybe I’m carrying the torch for some who wonder what it would have been like to be “still doing it”. That’s OK. Plenty of them are carrying the house/kid/normal life torch for me. (We travel so much we can’t even have a dog, let alone a kid.) So we’re living vicariously through each other. Maybe that’s why we have these reunion things – so we can check ourselves against the choices we could have made, the paths we could have traveled. I hope I wasn’t the only one who walked away happy with my chosen path.

I'm not sure how old I was when I first heard Patsy Cline sing "I Fall To Pieces"...probably a teenager. I do know that it gave me that twinge in the gut feeling I always get when something really breaks my heart. And it's done that every time I've heard it - twice as bad when I sing it - since.

When I was 20 I spent a summer singing that song 3-4 times a day - dressed as Patsy Cline in a theme park show. Then I did it again the following summer. I probably sang it hundreds of times on that stage alone. But that wasn't enough. I probably sang it every Thursday in my weekly solo piano gig at Donn's Depot in Austin. I did that for 5 years. When I left I took the song me and have sung it at all kinds of gigs since. It's my Dad's favorite Patsy Cline song. It's perfectly-crafted. In it's brilliant conciseness...16 lines, 116 words - it puts words and music to that twinge. That pain you feel when someone has let you go but never lets you go.

Hank Cochran wrote "I Fall To Pieces" with Harlan Howard in 1961. Harlan died in 2002. Hank died yesterday morning. Along with Patsy - who could probably sing a tax return and make people cry - Harlan and Hank fueled my fire to sing and to write in a huge way. If I never wrote again and only sang songs those guys wrote forevermore I could be satisfied. They're that good. Thank you Patsy. Thank you Harlan. Thank you Hank. Hope you're all sitting around a jukebox somewhere smiling.

Patsy Cline - "I Fall To Pieces"

In the last few months I've released my CD Raise My Voice, got filmed/interviewed by CNN.com for a piece on house concerts, played a show in Austin honoring veterans, played 10 duo shows in 8 different states w/Bryan, taught at Berklee for a weekend, and snuck in a week-long vacation in the Smoky Mountains complete with river-tubing and an 8 hour hike up Mt. LaConte and back. Any one of those things I could have written a blog about. And I wish I had - cuz now it seems too overwhelming to do so, and too far back to remember teeny magical details. And that makes me sad. Silly reason to be sad, and I'll get over it, but I want to notice it now.

And all of this stuff happened since the flood. I could write a book about that. But I know my tendency to over-feel things and if I started writing about that I'd just cry. We were lucky - both our apartment and our storage space are on high ground and escaped damage. But a mile down the road from us was some of the worst devastation in the city. I've gotta stop now - I can feel my survivor's guilt welling up. Next subject. Just know that Nashville is healing as best she can, with much love surrounding her.

Here's what I really want to do with this blog I think: beam moments into your brains. We've had so many lovely little moments. I feel so lucky right now to be doing what I'm doing, out traveling around playing my own music - finally. It's taken me a long time to figure out a sustainable way to do that. It also took me a long time to get out of my own way enough to pull it off. Two years ago I was depressed and paralyzed by fear - a fear that sounded like "I don't know what to do or how to do it" ringing in my ears constantly. I wrote "I Will Raise My Voice" to make sure I didn't silence it out of fear. It was a rope I threw up out of the hole I was in that thankfully snagged on a rock so I could pull myself out. It still is...and I'm so glad that song found it's way to the surface - so I could too.

Whew - OK - I didn't know I was going there. But I promised myself when I started writing this that I wouldn't censor it. I think I censor these things before I even write them - so they never get written. Lame-o-rama. No mas. Here goes:

I promise I will write something here once a week - even if it is short.

That just made me want to throw up. This is a good sign. Speaking of beaming moments to you - before I finished the "once a week" sentence there was a long pause in which my brain went "ok - once a week - really? so like does that mean the same day every week? that might be helpful to make sure i do it. but what if i want to write on a different day? what do i do? oh hush the discipline will probably be good for me. ok which day? today's friday so does that mean i have to stick to that? monday would make more sense after the weekend's gigs. but monday everyone's busy getting back to work. maybe wednesday...but is that too long after the weekend? tuesday mornings i have jazzercise when i'm in town...maybe once a week is too often. will people get bored? do i have anything worthwhile to say or do i just think i'm supposed to do this? is this whole endeavor just about vanity? AAAHHHH! Jesus H. Christmas would you rein it in already, you nut bag?? Just fucking write already."

There's a moment you probably could have done without. But I promised to share, and not just the pretty parts.

Attempting yet again to return to my point...I feel really lucky. And I'm trying to stay conscious of that every day. In the last year as Bryan and I have been out traveling together doing these duo shows we've said hundreds of times: "Look where we are in this moment - this is our work...our life. How lucky are we?" Like in Boston 2 weeks ago: A friend hosted a concert for us on a Friday night. His sister made us some of the yummiest pizza we'd had in a long time. His band opened up for us and their singer became an instant friend and kindred spirit. A friend I hadn't seen in 10 years came to the show and she and Bryan finally got to meet. Some other friends who were there decided they wanted to host us for a house concert next time we're there. After the show our hosts sister and some other folks busted out a boom box so they could do their dance moves while we packed up our gear - AWESOME!! :) We were pooped from the gig and I'd taught at Berklee all day, but the next day we had the pool and hot tub at the Hampton Inn all to ourselves. I distinctly remember us having the "aren't we lucky - dig this moment" conversation in the hot tub.

That's just one. There are so many.....like the next day after I finished my teaching for the day and we hopped in the van to go to Gloucester, MA since Bryan had never seen it. We pulled onto the main road by the shore where the statue is just as some priests were finishing blessing all the vessels that go out on the water. Turns out we arrived during the St. Peter's Fiesta: http://www.stpetersfiesta.org/ Here's a pic from that afternoon....

Here are a few recent twitter posts, just to give you a little taste:

6/22/10 - Sign in Fredericksburg, VA: Friday- poker / Saturday - metal bands. @bryanbeller and I can't breathe from the laughings.

6/23/10 - Driving through D.C. w/@bryanbeller. O hai, the Capitol! O hai, the Pentagon! #neato

6/23/10 - Opened laptop on I-95 to look at calendar and found wi-fi...thanks, MegaBus!! http://yfrog.com/0fofdyj #rollinginterwebs

6/26/10 - Wacky but fun show in Braintree last night w/@bryanbeller. Back to Berklee to teach the kiddoes again.

6/26/10 - Oh yeah - Dear The Hampton Inn with your yummy breakfast and your pool & hot tub...oh how we love thee. #wearytravelers

6/27/10 - Done teaching. Now we're here. Gloucester, MA http://yfrog.com/6cayiuj

6/27/10 - Stumbled into a festival weekend! http://yfrog.com/7e5wucj http://yfrog.com/1rqqgj #wehaveawesomeadventures

6/28/10 - Late lunch in Irish pub in W. Newton, MA w/hubby...and Magner's.... #blesseddayoff

6/28/10 - OMG @bryanbeller just sang to me, post-shepherd's pie: "I ate the shepherd...but I did not eat his deputy....nom nom nom.." #sweartogod

6/29/10 - Having coffee at friend's house. TV on for 4-yr old. Sponge Bob Square Pants Texas episode w/Junior Brown?? Score!! http://juniorbrown.com/

6/29/10 - Snuck a swim at gorgeous but closed swimming area on RI/CT border. Me: "what...are the cops gonna come?" RI Ranger: "you gotta leave." oops

6/30/10 - At Sidewalk Cafe in NYC watching @jonmon deliver the goods. @bryanbeller and I up next. Lotsa friends & family here. #loveourlife

6/30/10 - Pre-show clean-dog-poo-off-shoe ritual was especially cute while wearing "Puppies Aren't Products" tee from @bfas. (Best Friends Animal Sanctuary http://bestfriends.org )

7/1/10 - Drank wine w/mother-in-law while we watched our husbands shoot pool. Then we all retired to terrace w/stunning Manhattan view. #iloveourlife

7/2/10 - Early to meet friends in Inwood. Hubby's on the phone, I'm walking around here: http://yfrog.com/iz9brj #stolenmomentsofbliss

7/2/10 - Manhattan in Manhattan...unusually and exquisitely appropriate. http://yfrog.com/iyjkvij

7/4/10 - Cleanest rest stop ever = WV Welcome Ctr on I-81 S from PA. Raritan club serving hot dogs & lemonade for donations. Welcome indeed!

7/4/10 - Our life on the road: timed out where we'd be at sunset, found fireworks display, arrived in time 4 noms & this: http://yfrog.com/2ol1blj

OK that's WAY more than I thought I would include here but there's still a lot missing...like our outdoor show in Connecticut with perfect weather, enthusiastic crowd and excellent home-brewed beer. Or the other outdoor show in New Jersey with a creek running through the backyard - and the neighbor across the creek who threw a bottle of champagne across intending to share it with us but who christened the wall instead. We also had full lighting that night, courtesy of a friend of our host, complete with laser displays and smoke machine - totally bitchin'. 

I could go on and on about funny things that happened or beautiful things we saw while traveling... But the coolest thing by far are the people we get to be with. Whether they're old friends, family, or new folks we're just getting to know - the privilege of singing for folks and connecting with them that way is such a gift for me. That that happens in between all these other exquisitely beautiful and/or hilarious moments is just unfathomable sometimes - like we're getting away with something naughty. But mostly I choose to say "why shouldn't this be day to day life? Why shouldn't it be good, even when it's wacky?"

Indeed. Hopefully that last statement applies to blogs too...

Enjoy your moments!