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February 29 SmoothI was meeting some friends last night to celebrate Dewayne's birthday. In my typical fashion, I was about 10 minutes late. Typically, when I meet this gang of friends, I just look for my friend Penny's beautiful blond hair. Penny is gorgeous herself, but her hair is a pure shade of blond that stands out and so she's usually easy to spot.
I walked into the dim restaurant, glanced around, and saw the blond hair at a table with a large group in the back. I very confidently made my way to table where the waitress was already standing. She saw me, I smiled. As I approached her and the table, I realize in a moment of horror that the head of blond hair belongs to someone I don't know. I don't know any of these people. And, yet, I'm standing by the waitress now with this big goofy 'hi-I-don't-know-you-and-I-don't-know-how-to-get-out-of-this' grin.
So, I whisper to the waitress, "Pretend I'm telling you something very important, but the truth is I thought these people were the friends I'm meeting and I've never seen any of them before, so I'm trying to get out of it gracefully."
God bless her. She looked at me and said, "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. I'll let him know. It's good to see you again."
Then, she followed me around the corner where both had a good laugh...and I spotted the correct head of blond hair at the FRONT of the restaurant, and so I joined my friends.
I'm just brilliant.
-b
February 28 Not Because I Feel Like ItI'm checking in because I need to, but honestly, not because I feel like it.
I've got a lot hanging over my head right now and I'm just really, really tired of worrying. Do you ever wish there was a switch you could flip to stop your mind from spinning? Sometimes I wonder what just 5 minutes of mental quiet would actually feel like...but the constant noise in my head is likely what makes me uniquely and unequivocally me.
Also, my Grandmother, who I've mentioned to you recently, has taken a turn for the worse and we're just not sure how much longer we've got with her. Not long, it seems, today.
Life is just so complicated, isn't it? You have only so much time and you hope you spend it wisely and, of course, you're going to squander some of it, but I suppose you just won't know if you got it generally right until you hit the end...and who even knows when that will be...
...yeah...count on me...Debbie Downer...for your daily dose of gloom.
 It's a journey, gang, and we'll hit some lows here and there, but we'll get through it.-b February 26 On fire...I wrote two songs today...alone. One is definitely cuttable, the other may or may not be. I wrote it for me...so maybe I'll cut it.
I like when I'm in the zone. I worry less.
-b February 25 as far as I knowThe red headed man who plays the lead on CSI: Miami is, quite frankly, a terrible actor. Watching him is excruciating. And still I do.
I'm not proud to tell you this, but I've watched "Dexter" the past two weeks. I realize it's been dumbed-down for network TV, and I also admit that even with that, I have to turn my head away from lots of it, but I think it's also fair to tell you that I'll watch again next week. "Dexter" is about this guy who works in forensics for police and who is also a serial killer. He kills 'bad' people, though, so I guess we're supposed to kind of be okay with it--well, not 'okay,' but I guess Dexter is supposed to at least be humanized to us. He's not just this monster. But, every time his girlfriend kisses him, I want to barf.
Part of why I'm accidentally obsessed with "Dexter" is that he's a dead ringer for my friend Tim. Seriously. And, now, I'm a little frightened of Tim, and this doesn't seem fair since Tim is really a good guy...as far as I know. But, then, all of Dexter's friends think he's a good guy, too...
-b
February 23 You WinHim: 'you limpin'?
Me: Probably.
Him: Why 'you limpin'?
Me: Long story from a long time ago.
Him: See my limp?
Me: Yeah, you got a pretty bad one there.
Him: My mother-in-law ran over me with her car. 
...I may adopt his story, but substitute "mother-in-law" with "Joel," "Sue," "Tony," or "Jim," depending on my mood...
That's so much more interesting.
-b February 21 EclipseThis was the view from my backyard last night. Photo by Jim...who is much better at taking pictures than I.
-b February 20 Things in No Particular Order...againJohn took four inches off my hair yesterday. I keep flipping my head today because it feels strangely light.
I'm finally reading the book I keep buying and giving away. I've started it four times and then met up with someone I thought would like it and given it to them. I'm not going to tell you what the book is because you'll take it as an endorsement, and those kinds of things make me nervous. But, I am looking forward to the ending. (Don't tell me, Wayne.)
I'm going to a Zumba class tomorrow evening. I already feel self-conscious.
When I listened to Jewel's new country single yesterday, it made my front teeth hurt.
Joel really did take me to the Dove Awards with him one year and beforehand, he took me to McDonalds to eat. He was in a nice suit, I was in a long sparkly dress. We ate inside.
Can you develop ADD later in life? I think I am.
And, if you take the new FDA approved over-the-counter diet drug, Alli, and they refer to "treatment effects," let me break it down for you: if you eat too much fat in your meal, you're going to poo in your pants. My poor, poor, poor dear anonymous (for obvious reasons) friend has found this out the hard way. It is so tragic. Sooooo tragic.
-b
EricHello Eric.
Eric is my friend for many reasons. One of his most endearing qualities to me is that he hates to talk on the phone as much as I do. So, the fact that he left me a message last night filled with nice wishes is huge. He ran the risk of my actually answering...and then we would've had a purely social phone conversation. And, honestly, had I heard the phone ring, Eric's call is one I most definitely would have answered. Eric braved all that for me.
A gesture so large deserves to be reciprocated with a random shout on the world wide web.
So, again, hello Eric.
-b
February 19 Positioning and What You Make of ItWe went to WV over the weekend. No internet...not even dial-up anymore. So, that's why I haven't checked in with you. Thanks for all the nice notes you've sent. You all needn't be so kind to me or I'll get used to it. ...or I'll just post about dinner table breast feeding again. ha!
So, anyway, Jim had never been to WV. He seemed to take it well, and he became quite the superstar when he jumped in and fixed the hole in Mom's bathroom wall (she'd had a leak in it so they'd had to cut out some of the wall.) He's such a suck-up.
We were on the way back to Tennessee, maybe 60 miles from Mom and Dad's, when Jim got out his GPS (Global Positioning System) gadget. The GPS is strictly for fun, allowing us to follow the route we travel on the screen, to see exactly how far we have left to go, etc. We are nerds and this type of information seems to entertain us. He'd forgotten to mark their house on the GPS and so he asked me where we'd just come from. However, being the non-GPS person I am, I understood the question to be, "Where did we just come from?" as in, "Belinda, could you just re-create the route we've taken to get to where we are?" Honestly, it was a painful explanation while he tried to follow along on the tiny screen on the GPS.
 It went something like this:
Me: Where are you now?
Him: Mt. Alto?
Me: Okay, follow along the river.
Him: Millwood?
Me: No, you're going the wrong way.
Him: Okay, Flatrock?
Me: No...well...wait...yeah, that should be right.
Him: Pt. Pleasant?
Me: Yeah, now turn left.
Him: Left?
Me: Unless you want to go into the river.
Him: Are you sure?
This type of back and forth went on for maybe ten minutes until I painstakingly directed him down the path we'd just taken to about 20 miles from where we were currently. Then in a moment of realization and complete exasperation he stops, puts the GPS down, looks over at me in pure disbelief and says, "Did you just direct me to where we are?"
This is the moment when I realized that wasn't our goal.
"Belinda, I HAVE A GPS! IT WILL TELL ME WHERE WE ARE!!!! I was trying to figure out where we WERE!"
Oops.
That does make more sense when you think about it...considering it is a Global Positioning System.
-b February 15 Dove AwardsI don't keep up. Sometimes I wish I did, but I just don't. I had no idea the Dove nominations were coming out yesterday...not that I ever do. So, after I read Joel's blog yesterday, I still hadn't listened to the nice message he had already left me, but I did send him a text congratulating him on his nominations. I LOVE, "Orphans of God," that he and Twila wrote and I'm glad that song keeps going.
Then I went on about my business. I was sure several of my friends had nominations and I would check on that later and send the appropriate joyousness their ways. Yesterday was such a busy day for me.
Then, hours and hours later, I finally listened to the message Joel left me...the one congratulating ME on MY nomination.
Next I texted Joel the following: Just got ur msg. Could you come pick me up off the floor?
I always feel extremely awkward talking about awards and stuff, but on the flip side, I never want to seem ungrateful. The affirmations are always welcomed, and honestly, sometimes starved for. Songwriting can seem to be a thankless job at times so it is nice to be acknowledged.
Nicer still is being acknowledged with Sue Smith. Back when I was still pretty new to the 'scene,' Sue took a chance on writing with me. We wrote a truckload of songs that never got cut, but I remember us having the conversation that we weren't going to stop writing together because we had too much fun. That was probably nine years and lots of cuts ago. However, sharing this particular #1 and Dove Nomination with Sue...well, let's just say that I'm really glad she and I didn't quit. She's still one of my favorite human beings and so I'd like to thank her for sticking with me all through it all.
Also, congrats to everyone who did get a nomination this year and to everyone who may not have been acknowledged in this particular arena, but who felt affirmed otherwise. We made it through another year!
-b February 14 TapeI haven't mentioned it to you, but I've always liked to do wall finishes. I finally went ahead and got a professional license (I guess that's what it is) and I've trained with some experts in high end finishing. I did this toward the end of 07 and then I basically spent the the months after that either sick or recovering so that kind of put a damper on my attempts to get any jobs.
Well, this past week I think I got my first one. It's a huge job in a home that will sell for more than a half-million, so it's a great place to start. I'll be doing a bedroom finish, an entry way and then, the funny one...a 300 square foot "brick" wall. The bricks will actually be in a textured finish so they'll feel real. Very cool. Well, the designer wants the bricks to be the size of Roman bricks--12" x 2". Jim did the math and he estimates that I'll be taping off around 1400 bricks and using nearly a half mile of tape (including my mistakes that I'll have to tear down redo). I know! Doesn't that sound hilarious? It sounds overwhelming to me so all I can do is laugh. I won't be starting this particular job till March so I'm still amused by the notion. Come March, however, you'll probably see me with 1/4 inch tape in my hair...if not just accidentally taped to this wall. It's going to take days to get this tape on right. 
I'm pricing tape this afternoon and it occurred to me that this is probably something else you'd never considered. ...pricing 1/2 mile of tape. I'm here for you...here to simply go where no one would dare (or be dumb enough to) go!
Onward--
-b February 13 SuperpowersI was writing with James yesterday at Universal and in honor of Simon, he spoke in a very intelligent British accent throughout the session. We determined that everything sounds smarter with a British accent. My Britist accent is really too bad to put on people.
After the session, we were leaving and James finds that all his windows were down and the sun-roof was wide open--and it was pouring the rain. 
Someone was using his superpowers against James. ...Simon?
-b February 11 7th Row...the Rest of the StoryNaming my publishing company was easy. I grew up attending a small church pastored by my Grandpa, Mr. Russel G. Burch. He built the church himself on his property...poured the foundation, built the frame, hammered the nails and he preached there until he lost his battle with cancer in the 1990's.
My grandpa was the first to ever put me on stage to sing. That was even before I could play the piano for myself. I just stood up and sang without any accompaniment. Eventually, I got better and better till finally I became the church piano player when the other girl left. That was not the most fun job for a kid. I could NEVER miss because if I did, the whole congregation had to sing a cappella. Or, if we were late and my Grandpa wasn't in an especially patient mood, he'd make them start without me. I'd walk in and they'd be singing with no piano and I'd have to go up and just start in the middle of the song...meaning I also had to find what key they were in and just transpose the song in my head as I went. That's hard-core training, gang, and now that I'm older, it kind of makes me giggle that my Grandpa would do that. He was probably so mad at Mom for being late with me on those days, and it never occurred to me.
Anyway, there were seven rows in our church. I sat in the seventh row, far right corner. (This was my seat until I was finally driven out by the adults who were too chicken to sit up close. Then, I moved to the second row, far right, where I was never in danger of being crowded out.) I started writing songs in church when my Grandpa was preaching. Once he'd say something clever, I'd spend the rest of the sermon turning it into a song that I would eventually sing in church. I knew I had a good one when I could get my Grandpa to say, "Amen," out loud to it. That was my whole goal--the "audible amen" from my Grandpa. If instead he got out his Bible and started reading while I was singing, I knew I had a stinker and I didn't sing it again. It's hard to tell how many songs fell by the wayside because Grandpa was reading his Bible. It's kind of funny when I think of it that way.
I bought the piano from the church when it was closed and it's in my living room. I'm still writing gospel songs on that Wurlitzer today. It's not the fanciest thing, but it tunes up nicely and that's good enough. It wouldn't matter, though. It's priceless to me. I play my songs on it even now and try to decide if they would get an "Amen" from him. Some songs would, some likely wouldn't, but it's nice to have the piano to remind me of how it all started in the first place.
So, for all of you who wondered, "Why '7th Row,' Belinda?" there you go. It's because that's all the rows there were. -b
February 10 Saturday nightHeading out in just a second. Thought I'd check in. Went to two parties last night. The first was a retirement dinner for a friend. It's fun to watch people who aren't 'in' on the work lingo try to pretend they get the jokes. Awkward excellence.
The second was for my friend Michael who has been in the hospital/rehab center since September. Yesteray was the first time he had left a medical facility since starting out in ICU five months ago. They let him leave around 3 PM and he didn't have to be back till 10 PM. After dinner (which I couldn't make due to the other party), they took him to his house. I got there in time to see him sit in a normal chair for the first time since September. Wow, the things we take for granted. Surrounded by friends, Michael told us it was the best night of his life. I know I've said it before, but friends can be family...and I thank God for my entire family. Everybody matters in their own important way.
Here's to us.
-b February 07 Twenty Years AgoMy hometown newspaper apparently has a section in it with some flashbacks. I was included in one this week. I guess I made All-State Chorus twenty years ago this week. 
-b February 06 ...just so you knowWhen I was in NYC a few weeks ago, my brother and I were walking down the street in SoHo talking about the current state of the music business and the songwriter's plight. I said something like, "I'm not trying to be dramatic, but it really is scary when you consider the worst case scenarios."
In 2007 alone, I know of three very talented people I personally worked with, one who had just gotten his first major country cut, who threw in the towel and moved home. It wasn't a matter of not loving the writing of songs and it wasn't a matter of not truly having what it takes to get the big cuts. It was, plain and simple, a matter of eating. My friend who had just gotten his first major cut still didn't have a staff writing deal on the table. A big cut isn't necessarily enough for that these days. Another friend was negotiating a deal with what is one of the hottest publishers in town when he realized, after crunching the numbers, that mathematically he and his wife couldn't pay their bills on what she was making and what he was being offered. There simply wasn't enough coming in for a normal life. He told me that he could do it if he could work a full time job alongside the deal, but, of course, that won't work because as a writer you have to be available for co-writes and demo sessions during the day.
Some of you might say that these people who move home don't want it badly enough. Maybe not, I don't know. I'd like to disagree with you in these particular cases, but how can we ever know someone else's truth. I would say that these guys wanted to live a life which would allow them to marry or have kids, allow them to drive a reasonable car rather than one that can't be trusted to go sixty miles on the interstate, maybe to one day own a small piece of land and a little house, and to take a simple vacation once a year. I'm not talking about extravegances, here. Just your basic middle class life-style. Very few people are satisfied living hand to mouth in a tiny shoebox driving a beat up clunker for their whole lives, and I can't blame them.
I have friends who download everything illegally. People who 'hate the labels' or think 'the artists have enough money' and don't care where the fallout lands, as long as the labels or those artists don't get any more advantage. And, I have friends who wouldn't even consider having something they didn't pay for on their iPod. Then, there are those in the middle. People who believe in fair market use, sharing with their families, and I have some single friends who think they should rightfully be able to share a couple burns because otherwise, it's like single people get discriminated against. "A husband and wife don't have to buy two CDs, but because I choose not marry, I can't share anything with a friend or sibling?"
Wherever you fall in this, I'm posting a letter I've received from several sources at the bottom I'd like for you to take a moment to read. I think you should see the numbers and see why songwriters are so protective of what we have, what little we have. These are issues being decided now and these issues could very well decide whether anyone gets to write full time...and whether lots of really talented people even bother anymore.
All I know is that for me, songwriting has saved my life. It has been my lifeline when nothing else made me want to stick around. It has saved me from bad relationships, from unhealthy associations and I'd like to think, based on all the placements I've gotten, it has made a difference to a few people along the way. I guess writing songs has validated my existence, really. It's why I'm here.
I hope that there are artists everywhere standing up for the people who write their songs. I think the labels should kiss the ground songwriters walk on for being the foundation of the business. I pray the members of the Copyright Royalty Board see that without the songs, there's really no need for any discussion...because there's no music. And, most importantly, I hope we won't look back on these hearings in 2008 as the ones that killed the songwriters. That, my friends, truly would be tragic.
-b
February 05 Dead Animals, Prostitues and BathroomsI went to vote first thing this morning. The parking lot was packed. Just as I was pulling in, I looked over to this light colored thing in the yard of a house across the street from the voting place. It looked to me like a small golden dog that had passed away. It was soaking wet and staring straight at me. It sure didn't look alive, and the owners weren't home. It was a miserable experience. I'm for dogs, gang, and I can't deal well with losing them. It's not all that logical, but it's certainly real, and my heart was broken.
Later, I had to take my car in for some service. Three hours into my wait, I was starving. It was 3:00 PM and I hadn't had lunch. So, I left my laptop with the owner of Larry's Automotive and headed up the street to find some food. About halfway through my journey, I realized that I was being shouted at by random passers-by. Then, it occurred to me that prositutes work this particular road. Nice. I called Jim while I walked. At least I looked like a distracted prostitute.
Four hundred and fifty-one dollars later, I'm writing to you after just having gotten out of the bathroom. I was hunkered down in my back bathroom waiting for the tornadoes to pass. There's another round of storms coming in a few hours, but hopefully I'll be sound asleep by then. For now, I've survived the one inch hail that was beating on my roof (and my car in drive.)
I kind of need this day to be over.
-b Holy Stinking CowFriends passed along the youtube.com video of Tom Cruise on Scientology.
Jim and I have been reading Wikipedia regarding Scientology and its followers. I really didn't know that much about it, but this video gave me a need to educate myself.
All I can say is, "Wow."
Wow, wow, wow.
Yeah, that's all I've got.
wow.
-b
p.s. Just so we're clear, the 'wow' is not a good one. February 04 Big DayI did not know until recently that you could go through the drive through at the bank and request a deposit slip. Typically, when I run out, I order more and then do the deposits. Being that I'm a bit of a procrastinator, I would end up with huge deposits containing months of back checks. I'm sure people hated me.
So, I needed to make a deposit and I was complaining to Jim that I was out of slips. This is when he looked at me in disbelief and said, "Well, why don't you just ask them for one?" I said, "Because I hate to go in and stand in that line just to do it. It's such a pain." And he said, "So, go through the drive through."
This notion has been revolutionary. Today was revolutionary.
My money is now safely in the bank. And to beat it all, she gave me a few extra slips, too. HEAVEN!
My lack of common sense is alarming sometimes.
-b |
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