Sunday, September 14, 2014

Where Does The Time Go? ...

Some nights ago – I can't remember how many, exactly, which is fitting, given the point of this post – I was watching my beloved Rachel Maddow and she mentioned the botched execution of Clayton Lockett ... in April.

Whoa. My first thought was, "Rachel is wrong."

But Rachel is rarely wrong. (And when she is, she corrects her errors on camera as soon as possible.)

My second thought was, "That can't have happened in April because this is September."

I mentioned this to Doreen. She was in my "Rachel is wrong" camp.

But I looked up the date of Clayton's death and, sure enough, he was executed on April 29.

Which is almost May, but still. That happened in April.

And this is September.

Which means that since that news happened, May, June, July, and August have come and gone.

Holy crap. A third of a year, gone.

Now, May was busy and then my father had a health episode in June which lasted into July, and other life-type things came up and needed tending, but still, it was disconcerting to hear something in September about something that happened in April and not be able to account for much of the time.

But you know what I haven't done in a really long time?

Record. Or sing in front of other people.

The latter is far more scary to me than the former – which is why, though I've done it, I need to do it more often.

My friend Briggetta was over for dinner recently and asked about my singing. As in, was I?

Nope, I said. I've lost touch with my recording connection and I haven't had the means in recent years to plunk down cash for studio time. Not to just play around.

She mentioned that she's told some people about my voice. She compared me to Diana Krall.

Which was very sweet of her. And which made me think, "And she rich and married to Elvis Costello!"

Not that I expect to get rich. And I'm sure she and Elvis are very happy together.

But I need to get back to it. Because I really, really miss it.

So today, I pinged my recording connection. I may not hear from him. Or I may. We shall see.

And I checked out the schedule at Davenport's: Yup, Mondays are still open-mic nights. And yup, George Howe is still the man at the piano on those nights. He's the one I sang with before. And I lived to tell about it. So I feel good about singing with him again.

There's something about fall that brings out my creativity. I wanted to make bread today just to make it. Have no real inclination to eat it. I just want to bake it. (And I would have, if I had enough flour on hand. Any any yeast. I must stock up on baking supplies.)

So here's to singing again, at long last. I'll post songs if I have them to post, on my web site, where you can hear what I've noodled around with in the past.


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