Strummin’ on the old banjo
If I didn’t insist on playing shows, I don’t know if I would be as motivated to lose any of this lingering pregnancy pudge. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s still a good idea health-wise, but there is nothing like booking a show to put a skip in my step towards the gym. Maybe it’s the physically demanding two hours of strumming and singing. Or maybe being publicly seen and watched on stage.
My last show was on Oct. 23rd of last year. Over a year ago, yes. Since then, there was a falling out between band members, some of which has been mended, some of which is still hopeless on the ground. Then there was a moment when I seriously considered (err, actually booked) playing an acoustic show while six months pregnant, but freaked out and called it off. Then my hand swelling got so bad I couldn’t feel my fingers. Then RR was born. Then the swelling took two months to go down and I could finally play my guitar again. Naturally, I didn’t waste anytime booking the show I gracefully canceled back in April. Naturally, those two guys in my band still aren’t talking, which takes the pressure off of booking a full band show.
So here I am, staring down a month-long countdown until the first Saturday in December. My guitarist is coming down this weekend to practice up, as he’ll be joining me on stage for the two hours of acoustic jams. He’s yet to meet RR, so I’m anxious to see how she feels about this very large, bearded, tattooed man with the loud and booming deep voice. While I spend my days trying to remember all of the lyrics to the SONGS THAT I WROTE, I’ll be trying to get down to a less-embarrassing-on-stage weight. Then, of course, the holidays can come and kick my ass with gin and tonics and toffee, but whatever! At least I can eat something this holiday season! I’m looking at YOU, morning sickness.
In sort of related news, I’m finding that all children’s songs are the same three chords. But maybe more importantly, WHO exactly is in the kitchen with Dinah?