What the hell. One minute you are wearing shoulder pads, tight jeans, stiletto heels and fingerless, crocheted gloves, and the next you only book gigs on weekends and wear awesomely, comfortable shoes. One gig you are psyched about the open bar at the wedding, and the next it's a non-issue (unless it includes a glass from that vintage bottle of Cabernet your hosts purchased from an NPR fundraiser... you know who you are Bernardi family!). Now that we are, you know, on "the back 9" (although nobody in the band knows shit about golf -- except you, Bobby), I worry about the boys' health. In the past year, band mates have lived through some medical scares.
All age-related. Yikes. We are vulnerable. Vulnerable! I worry about everything -- cardiac conditions, cholesterol, stress, diabetes -- and the incomprehensible clusterfuck that is Medicare.
But I digress.
One of the boys recently went through some medical stuff, and -- fingers crossed -- is coming out with a plan and some hope. Still, I worry. I look at Tony Bennett and Aaron Neville and think, pft, maybe 15 or 20 more years? Who am I to dream? Fingers may last forever but voices?
I am a singer. Our longevity seems to be based upon good genes, clean living and a poultry sacrifice.
Forgive my Debbiedownerness. My point -- seriously, I have one -- is that the last two gigs we've played have nearly made me cry with gratitude. These gigs underscored my love for this this hobby that (OMG, incidentally!) happens to pay. We are all either healthy, healthyish or healing, and the transcendent moments when we create something beyond our parts, have blown me away. I am so proud of the boys -- these bandmates who work so hard and dig deep into the sludge of life and create something freaking magical.
It feels like we can do this forever. Or ten more years. Or until one of us gets physically sidelined, maybe for a gig or two. No granteds to be taken! I am always grateful to our employers, who are so kind and supportive. My heart sings when I see friends and followers in the audience.
I am proud to follow this musical road with my bandmates, all of us scarred and a little wiser, wearier, warriored from life. We are a team - we do this for no reason other than... we love it.
Thank you all -- band mates, employers, followers, bardiac parties -- for being part of the fun. Play ON!
