February 01, 2006

11:01 a.m.

Thursday, Jan. 19th, 6:52pm
Tampa, FL

We arrived without incident, after a short night's sleep and some conundrums involving packing. We'd forgotten to send CDs ahead to our first gig, so we'll be getting them next week; meanwhile we had to pack enough for this weekend. They had to find spaces in between everything else, rather than go in their own box; Delta Song no longer allows three checked bags. We also discovered there's a new FAA rule that says NO instruments of any kind are allowed on a plane. We check our full size guitars, keyboard and bass, but C&C bring the mandolin and mini guitar on board. No one stopped them; the flight attendants were sympathetic and told Chris, if anyone asks in future, to tell them he's carrying a tennis racket. We were Zone 7 to board, but Chris, as usual, sneaked on during the Zone 4 boarding without being discovered. Carol and I didn't fare so well, and had to wait! (This is typical Chris karma... he has this invisibility cloak... got front row at a James Taylor concert once without even paying to get in.)

Last night at their house I realized I was coming down with something again. This is quite atypical, for me to get sick twice in succession, but there it is. I told my body, it won't do any good; you still have to go, and being sick will just make it worse. So get over the scratchy throat and sinuses. The flight was better than it might have been, although I awoke from a fitful nap at our lodging this afternoon with a horrible sore throat. After I'd been up awhile and had some tea, it was better.

I also picked up some echinacea/goldenseal from the local Walgreens, and I have plenty of C with me, so that's about all I can do.

We're staying at a bungalow owned by a fan who has never actually seen us perform. I think someone gave her a CD a few years ago or something, and she emailed us offering lodging if we were ever in Tampa. So here we are. She lives in a bigger house across town now, and has been planning to enlarge & renovate this place (called "The Teacup") for some time. She's put in a cot and an airbed for us, stocked the fridge with water and coffee drinks and V-8, and made us a gift bag with nuts and chocolate and twizzlers. She has a huge backyard with several citrus trees; we went out and picked oranges for snacks. We'd gotten in with a key she hid under a flower pot. Isn't it amazing? We've never even met, and yet we can go into her house and sleep there, look in the fridge. Later she came back from Orlando and we had a nice rotisserie chicken dinner together. She has an enormous Great Dane named Emma, who is serene and sweet. She'll try to come to a show this weekend before we head to the other coast.

So we'll get up early tomorrow for the radio show, then drive to Floral City for an evening gig. Tomorrow, a house concert, and Sunday we have to leave at 7:15am for a five-hour drive to another radio show. Agh! But then we get to rest for a few days. I'll sleep off what's left of my cold. If there's anything left of it.

I recall that last year when we did this tour, I was talking on the phone at one point with Steve in a very intimate way. We were both under covers -- I under blankets in my guest room, he under a sleeping bag on his sofa in Massachusetts. It was the only way I could say some of the things I had to say. I was very concerned that we'd had sex too soon. I still think we did. In the long run, it probably didn't affect the outcome of the relationship. I don't think it ruined anything, but it didn't enhance either. I don't want to rush into that again, ever -- and what I mean by that is, I won't let someone talk me into it if I feel ambivalent.

C&C have now gone to a nearby LensCrafters to fix Carol's glasses, which she stepped on slightly on the plane. I'm alone in the bungalow. It's a nice, quiet space, and during the day the local Catholic church rings out the hours from its steeple. Occasionally a train goes by in the distance, whistling its yearning to be there. I hope I can sleep tonight, on the little cot with the lumpy, flattish pillow.

Friday night, the 20th

I found a different pillow in the other bedroom, switched the lumpy one to the between-the-knees pillow, and had a surprisingly decent night's sleep. Relative, of course; I didn't sleep deeply, and woke often, but by morning the sore throat had abated and I was ready to face the day. Which was today... hard to believe. We started with a one-hour radio show in Tampa, in their new refurbished studios. We love this show -- the DJ is great and lots of people tune in. As we were packing up the van afterwards, a guy came walking up to us in the parking lot and asked us if we were the band who had just played. He'd left what he was doing and driven half an hour to catch us before we left town. He said he was a carpenter/songwriter, and had had an on/off relationship with his guitar for many years, but that we'd inspired him to pick it up again. We chatted for a bit; he wanted to know where we were playing Saturday, and said he'd like to come. We told him to call soon, as they were filling up. He then said he wanted to get back into the scene, and would it be possible to play a couple of songs between our sets? We said that no, we didn't do that, for various reasons (Chris handled this part very diplomatically), and he said he understood, but no harm in asking, right? Then he said he'd call the house concert and reserve a couple of seats.

We then went out to a late breakfast with the DJ. I'm glad Florida has an indoor smoking ban now; my throat wouldn't be able to tolerate any smoke this week. Anyway, we then drove here and let ourselves into our new hosts' house, as they were at work. We've stayed here a few times before, so we knew where everything was. I set up the airbed in the office, and we were all grateful for long naps.

After singing another gig I'm plenty tired. A fan gave us lots of oranges from his yard (yessir, yessir, three bags full), so we had some tonight and played with our hosts' new kitty. This little cat was discovered to be under the hood of a friend's car -- AFTER she'd driven 30 miles. The poor thing was covered with grease, and scared to death. It was only 4 weeks old. After much bottle feeding and a few attempts to find it a home, our friends have pretty much decided to keep it. It's a beautiful calico, with a long body and extra long tail. It's not the warmest and fuzziest personality I've seen, but considering the start it got in life, it's amazing it will interact at all. It sleeps between them on the bed, stretched out on its back.

I was going to try to call Dar when we got back here, but now it's late and I'd have to go outside for a signal. I left him a message earlier anyway, saying I was feeling better.

We had a smaller crowd tonight than last year. Carol wondered if we'd "overstayed our welcome." Our host is taking a break from putting on concerts now; I think he just didn't promote this one as heavily. People get tired; it's a lot of work, and it's all volunteer.

Tomorrow we can sleep in. I hope I sleep better tonight; the moment I lie down, my sinuses decide to start streaming. Would be nice to just close my eyes and drift off. Everyone else is in the living room right now, listening to music, so that might go on for a little while. I shall put my scratchy throat to bed.

Saturday

Hard to imagine I'll be singing tonight. I'll take a lot of tea and hope for the best. We just took a long walk on a labyrinthine trail across the street at neighbor Peggy's house. She has many orange trees which she says give tartish fruit. Good for marinades and fish sauces. It's rather hot today. The water is soft here and smells of sulphur. It's a "different hair day."

So far we've seen fire ants and big-headed ants. The big-headed ants don't bite, or eat fruit, but they're omnipresent. A few big hawks were calling up in the heavens as we went out for our walk. We tried not to look like rabbits.

Sunday, 8:40pm
Stuart, FL

Thank the Goddess I made it this far. Last night was an unexpected blowout success. A couple fit 65 people into their living room which held 54, and we had one of the nicest house concerts we've ever had. Last year we played a large UU church there, and this year because the minister wasn't going to be around this month they didn't want to book a concert. We were disappointed, but a number of people from that show came to this house concert and said they'd been waiting ALL YEAR to hear us again. I took it a little easy in my low register, because it was getting weak, and the upper was okay. I think we could have sung like Louis Armstrong and they'd still have loved it. (No offense to Louis -- it just doesn't sound as good coming out of a girl.)

The lady who owns The Teacup also came, which was nice.

And, yes, our parking lot friend showed up with a lady friend and sat in the front row. It was very sweet. There was a poignant and awkward moment (in which we were not involved) when he arrived; when he'd called for directions, the daughter of the house, Amanda, told him that a lot of times people brought food, because there would be things to eat before and during intermission, but that it wasn't mandatory. So when he showed up he handed her a bag with a few things in it, saying, "I brought the canned food!" She started to take stuff out of it, but was nonplussed to find things like cream of mushroom soup -- and realized he thought it was a food bank donation, not a pot luck. Well, you know, a lot of people haven't been to house concerts, and they're not familiar with the routine... and he seems the sort of person who would get involved with charitable organizations. So it was an honest mistake. Though perhaps a little embarrassing.

Later our host said this man had been eager to "audition" for his series. This is a little funny, too -- mostly you don't audition for gigs, like for a play, but you send a press kit and try to get them to come see you somewhere so they'll know how you are with an audience. Anyway, he indicated interested in coming to another gig next weekend, where they have an open mic before the feature act. That's where people can sign up and do usually two songs, for exposure and chops-development. I hope he doesn't suck; who'd know what to say?

Anyway, God bless him for finding the music in his soul.

After that concert I had approximately six hours between going to bed and having to get up so we could leave early for our radio gig in Miami. I slept approximately, oh, I'd say fifteen minutes of those six hours. The rest of the time I lay there, coughing, drowning in PND (yes, that's post nasal drip) and feeling like I was on a bus that never left the station. I arose as usual before my mates, showered in my own bathroom, and was about to plug in the hair dryer when the light went off and I heard a distant pop. A few minutes later our host came up the stairs with flashlights. Apparently a transformer had blown somewhere in the neighborhood. He and his wife were in the middle of making promised omelettes downstairs. I noted that, as my hair is short and unruly, this would be the first time in years that I hadn't used a blow dryer to style it. I fluffed it with a little gel and packed up my stuff.

Meanwhile, Host had come up with the brilliant idea of cooking the omelettes on the skillet portion of the outdoor grill. It worked beautifully, and we ate out on the back patio as the sun came up. We also had the everpresent Floral City oranges, and toward the end of it all the electricity came back on. We got on the road more or less on time.

It was five hours to Miami, and I lay tipped back in the back seat in an uncomfortable pseudo-doze most of the way. Chris got stopped near the station for going the wrong way down a one way street, but we were just a little lost, and the cop redirected us. We learned to our delight that our friends F&J, with whom we split a few gigs in November, were on after us. F is from California and J is from Nashville; imagine meeting in a radio studio in Miami like that? They've been in Florida a while, and are going back tomorrow.

I sang very little today; we played one of my cuts from the CD and Carol fronted everything else. My voice is trashed. I'm coughing a lot and my lungs feel a bit funky. Down time, just in time. After the radio we met two friends for an early dinner in Ft. Lauderdale, and then drove the hour and a half to Carol's parents' place, where we picked up the key to this condo, and some credit card swiper slips from CD Baby that we had sent here. Once ensconced here I scarfed two oranges and half an oat bar, and am now headed to the bathtub for a long, hot soak. We have four whole days of rest.

Second half of Florida tour, coming up.