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August 31 duhAllstate insurance put up a new billboard advertisement on a roadway I use daily. It reads, "Misteaks Happen."
I saw the billboard for the first time on Monday and I've been shocked, horrified and amused all in the same that such an established company would actually put up a billboard with such a gross misspelling. How did someone miss such a blatant error. NO ONE spells "mistakes" that way. It's really inexcusable.
Last night, while I was driving and looking at the billboard, however, the light finally came on. Duh.
Misteaks happen. Get it? They spelled mistakes wrong on purpose to further demonstrate the idea that mistakes happen...even misspellings on billboards...get it?
Yeah, you got it all along, didn't you? Just as you should have. Just as everyone else did...except me.
Hasn't been a great week and this kind of hits it on home.
 Later taters-
-b
August 28 Red Wagons and ToastsI think I started taking piano lessons when I was 5. Four or five, I can't remember. Anyway, my teacher, Ms. Heckertt, came to our neighborhood every Saturday and taught at our little community building. To get there, I walked down one hill from our house, up another and around the curve. I'd put all my lesson books in my little red wagon and pull them behind me. I would put the books in a very specific order--the ones I'd practiced most on top all the way down to the ones I hadn't. (Ms. Heckertt didn't tell me till I was in high school that she'd been on to me that whole time. It was a crushing blow.) Anyway, I took 12 years of classical piano before stopping. I still like to get out those classical tunes and play them--Chopin, Mozart, Beethoven. There's something very stress-relieving about playing them. Regardless, I'd never begin to call myself a good pianist. I can do what I need to do and thank Heavens I can play by ear, but I'm certainly nothing to write home about. 
Anyway, I've been working all morning recording. I have to record the piano track and then go back and do the vocal.
So, I do the piano to a song this morning and then I sit back and listen. Here's what I realized: I'm really not a terrible ballad player. No, I'm not on the level of a real studio player. I don't mean that. I think I'm just so used to hearing myself sing that I never really listen to myself play. I was pleasantly surprised today. I think those twelve years of lessons actually count for something! What a nice surprise.
Here's to you, Ms. Heckertt. I raise my glass (of water)!
-b August 27 I Smell a RatMother Theresa had doubts about her faith. -b August 26 CD CoverAugust 24 I'm for DogsI read that Kirstin Dunst had her $13,000 handbag stolen from her hotel room in NYC. It was never stolen. Not as gross, though, as Michael Vick and his buddies who enjoyed electrocuting and hanging dogs for not being good fighters. That's a whole new level of gross. I know it goes on around here now, but I honestly never knew that people did that. WE are the animals sometimes, aren't we? I do hope Michael Vick's football career is over. I hope he never gets to see all the millions he could earn because he can throw a ball and run fast. When people show you who they are, believe them. Gross is gross. -b ***10:41 PM--this just in: NFL suspends 'reprehensible' Vick indefinitely - NFL - MSNBC.com August 23 Walking on WaterMy friend Matthew rented a houseboat for the week on Dale Hollow Lake and then he invited all of us to mooch off of him. So, we did.
This houseboat had six bedrooms, two large bathrooms, a full kitchen, a hot tub and a slide on the top deck which would send you flying into the water. I'd never been to Dale Hollow Lake, but it's really very clean. The water was a lovely color and I could see the fish...and the COPPERHEAD swimming with us.
How fast do you think I could get to the boat from a float in the lake?
Remember when Jesus told Peter to step out on the water and to keep Peter's eyes on Jesus? Okay, now imagine the boat was Jesus...and that I was really, really, really excited to get to Jesus. ...or something like that.
Jim and I canoed. It was very windy and so we (insert "I") got "distracted" more easily and so Jim kind of had to navigate alone a few times. Needless to say, he wasn't as excited about canoeing when we kept being blown to random places on the shore as I stared off into the distance. (The truth is I was so distracted by the possibility of capturing a random copperhead on my paddle and throwing it into the boat that I couldn't really participate. Don't tell Jim.)
-b August 17 The Good Ol' DaysThere was a time when I was the poster child for organization. In college, I was in everything, and president of a lot of it. Not to mention that I was kind of psycho about keeping my grades fairly high--magna cum laude, thank you very much. I thought that my high grades and involvement in activities would make my resume look better, and, in turn, I would be able to land a better job. (I soooo wish I'd known then that I aspired to be a songwriter. I would've been such a great slacker.)
So, I can't really tell you what happened, but I'm now the "anti" poster child for organization. I spend time every morning looking for my shoes, I had to buy a scanner to keep track of my receipts (hat tip, Simon), I usually end up purchasing some stupid new article of clothing each month because I haven't done laundry and have no time to do it, and were it not for online banking, every bill I have would be late. I do tend to blame it on my hyper-excellence in college, though. I just used it all up. 
I'm usually fine with that. I'm very good at forgiving myself. Yesterday, however, I was feeling overwhelmed and buried by things that must be accomplished ASAP. Thank God for Jim. He listens and then he helps me figure it out. He really does have the patience of a saint. I made a list in order of importance. The first thing being FINISH THE CD!!! And, so, I'm writing this on Friday night from the studio. How's that for focus?! And then I went on down this list and assigned a bit of a time line. I feel like I'm 20 again (no comments, please.) I have a plan and I know what I'm doing when I'm doing it.
Perhaps that's why my dreams last night were so amusing. I dreamed that I had been recruited--and persuaded--to be a Navy SEAL.
 I know?! I was as surprised as you are. They want me to be a Navy SEAL. And, after careful consideration, I decided to accept. I mean, they'll get me in the best physical shape of my life AND I'll see places and things I've never seen before. Just before I woke up, I was on the yellow cheesewagon that was taking me to basic training.Of course, today I thought about the whole Navy SEAL thing again and the truth is it's not as high on my list as it was last night. The CD actually remains #1 followed by painting my living room, followed by laying the tile, and then taking that class I signed up for today...and...well...I'll let you know when I start basic training. That might be simpler.
-b
p.s. Best wishes to Leslie in her freshman year at college! You can change the world and don't you every forget that.
August 16 Things I want to tell you in no particular order...Did I mention that Joel had a birthday? I don't think so. I mean, I mentioned it to him, but not to you. I had a silent ban on Joel out of my pure jealousy that he is spending the week in NYC. It's over now, though, so you can stop being nervous. I mean, Joel's still there, but the ban is over. I couldn't handle the stress of it so I ended it early.
If you refer to yesterday's post, you'll know about "the incident." I forgot to tell you that she wasn't homeless, as I'd assumed. She was a "normal" looking thin woman wearing khaki shorts and holding a latte and a W Magazine. The glorious part is that the woman kicked it across the sidewalk with sandled foot (she missed the first time) till it landed under an SUV parked alongside the street. I didn't know that part till last night. You needn't think I can bear that alone, either. My brother doesn't know how to exist in the world now having seen this. I think he should go to therapy. Seriously.
My Mom is going to WAJ in St. Louis this year to hang out. For those of you coming, I'm nothing like her. She's a true extrovert. I'm a faux extrovert. You'll like her. ...and she makes the best mashed potatoes.
I'm still not sure what to do with my laptop.
I was inducted into the Williams' Family Band last night. It was a very important ceremony complete with certificate. Irene and J.P. are the founders. They are two of my favorite people to write with. ...and two people whose approval I covet. I rarely like people like I do them. I worked very hard to earn this.
I have a pez stuck in the head of my Mr. Incredible pez dispenser.
My old neighbor, Keith, who kind of helped me watch out for my stalker back when all that was going on, emailed me. I hadn't heard from him in probably 8 years. He found me on the internet. He is a police officer now. I take full responsibility for his pre-training. Living next to me in that silly apartment should've gotten him excluded from any further training. They should've just shook his hand and given him the badge. Incidentally, Keith was there the night I brought Pete home. He agreed that Pete's name should be Pete...and so it is.
I need to call Don P. back. I don't know why I keep forgetting to do that. He's another person I like a lot. I should call him back.
I think that about sums it up...
-b
August 15 ...in a New York MinuteMy brother just called. He was laughing. This is what he said.
Sometimes, gang, we can't bear our burdens alone.
-b good thingsGot back in town last night. Pete is beyond exhausted. I guess when you take a dog to the country, the endless possibilities of tree trunks to mark is both mentally and physically exhausting. I forget about that. Pete typically runs to the window and barks when someone has the audacity to walk by on the sidewalk. Well, the kids have gone back to school and so Pete would typically be beside himself. This morning, however, he stayed on his appointed spot on the couch...and barked from there. He couldn't even muster the energy to go to the window. Poor little guy...
However, our county has instituded a dress code for public schools. This is the first week of school and the first year for the dress code. So, where last year they would walk by in droopy jeans, bandanas, large gold chains, skimpy tops and short, short skirts, today they all went by in khaki pants and skirts and polo shirts. Gang, it's a good thing. I'm sorry and maybe this makes me officially old, but it was good to see. I hardly recognized the little hoodlums who broke into my car!
-b
August 13 ShowersI'm in West Virginia right now. Have been for a few days. Hence, I have no cell service and my only access to the internet is dial-up. Wow...I'd forgotten how it was in the old days.
Anyway, I spent a couple hours last night with a pillow and blanket laying out front on the sidewalk staring up at the sky. Mom and I had a fight and she told me to get out.
No, really, I was watching the meteor shower. I saw 20 in an hour and a half. I'm not sure that really constitutes a shower, per se, but it was cool, nonetheless. It's hard to imagine that those huge streaks of light across the sky are actually particles that are no bigger than a grain of sand. I can't wrap my head around that.
Just thought I'd check in. I'm going to Wal-Mart now. You're jealous.
-b August 10 changeIt was 109 degrees at my house yesterday.
I've been thinking a lot lately about cutting my hair off. If you saw it in this humidity, you'd understand. Plus, there's just so much of it. So, today I went online to get some ideas about how I could have it cut.
This stood out as a front runner. I'd have to have the same make-up to really make it pop, though, and that feels like too much of a committment.
This one seems a little limiting...
...and I'm not sure this one would work with naturally curly hair...
This whole thing is way more complicated than I'd expected. -b August 09 what now?I bought a laptop over the weekend.
I don't really know what to do with it. I have a great desktop computer which I love. Actually, I have two. I have a PC and a Mac in my office. So, now here I sit with a laptop.
I just keep carrying it around because it is light enough that I can.
Guess I'll write a novel. It seems like that's what you're supposed to do with a laptop. I should go to Starbucks, grab a seat and type in a novel.
-b August 08 Poor, Ignorant SoulRight after I moved to Nashville, within the first six months or so, someone invited me to sing on my very first 'round' with them. It was a country venue, very hard core...The Broken Spoke (before it burned down and recently re-opened.) I was a Christian music writer at that time. Southern Gospel, to be even more specific. I'd moved here to do that and I had no permission within myself to do anything else. However, under the heading of 'Don't Be an Idiot, Belinda,' I thought better of going to the Broken Spoke and singing three gospel songs. I wanted to keep the audience and so I decided to write two country songs (my apologies for those two songs to those who were there) and then throw in a gospel one as my last one.
And, so I did.
I had an office job at the time and three people from the office came to the performance.
In the audience that night was an arrogant Jewish attorney/songwriter (that's his schtick, not me telling you unnecessary details--well, I did insert the 'arrogant') who actually heckled my gospel song. Then, he followed me outside after the set when I was leaving and accosted me. He just lit into me--"Do you really believe that?" I said, "yes," and we were off. I remember that's how it started. I was standing outside. Mike and Chris, the guys from the office, got between us and basically told him to back off. Pat, the lady of our group, still laughs about the whole mess to this day. She and I were even reminded of it last week and we talked about it.
I've seen him on cable access for several years now and I never stop to see what he's talking about. I remember him from that night and I have no interest in hearing another thing he says...or writes. I think he's a jerk.
Last night, my Dad called. "Hey, there's a song I want you to get for me. I just heard it on the radio." It's a comedy song. He told me the title and then he told me the name of the artist. Gang, it's the arrogant Jewish attorney/songwriter. My father, the man who expects me to choose an appropriate nursing home and wipe the drool from his chin in his elder years, asked me to obtain a song from the arrogant Jewish attorney/songwriter.
I said, "Dad, I cannot in good conscience do this for you."
Dad, you know how you're anti-cross bow? Anti gun control? You're pro-NRA? And you wouldn't consider going against those positions?
Yeah, this is one of the crosses I'm willing to die on. I will not get you this song and I will not support this guy. I hold grudges, and I get that from you. This is something I stand for, and I cannot go against every moral fiber of my being.
So then Dad asks if I'll help him get it himself this weekend when I'm home.
I'm currently in the process of gathering unappealing photos of nursing homes for him.
-b August 07 Which one is Cheaper?Well, it's hard to explain why someone would insist on taking you to lunch if they didn't really want to pay for it, isn't it? Let's just say that someone insisted on taking a few of us to lunch yesterday and took us to this nice little soup and sandwich place. She then, of course, stood with each of us at the counter while we ordered so she could pay when we were done. I was last in the group to order, but I've since gathered that my experience was a little different than anybody else's.
When I reached the counter to order, I'd already picked up a small bag of pita chips and then I asked the girl behind the counter for a roast beef sandwich, no mayo. Here's how it went from there:
Paying lady to me (pointing to the menu): I notice that this sandwich is cheaper. Would you want it?
Me: Umm...
Girl taking our order: Well, that' just a small roll, like a half sandwich.
Paying lady to me: Well, will that do? I mean, if you're getting chips...
Girl taking order: It's really small.
Paying lady: But she's getting chips.
Me: I can afford to pay for my own lunch. Why don't I just do that.
Paying lady: No, no. I'm glad to do it.
Girl behind the counter to me: Maybe I could put it on bread instead of the roll so it will be a little bigger.
Girl behind counter to her co-worker: Put it on bread, even though it's only a half.
Girl behind counter to me (trying not to laugh): What do you want to drink?
Me: Diet Coke.
Girl behind counter: Bottle or can?
Paying lady: Which one is cheaper?
Girl behind the counter: The can.
Me: Can
So, as one of the featured performers yesterday, I was awkwardly 'treated' for lunch by someone involved in the festival to a half sandwich, a bag of pita chips and a diet coke in a can.
Darnell and I have been giggling about it ever since.
-b
p.s. And to Tony W., here's a whole sandwich for your birthday.  Hope it was a good one.August 05 ScarySo, I'm heading out to Abdingdon, Virginia, in a few for a performance tomorrow and I thought I'd google the event to see if I could find out what time I'm doing what (I don't know all that much about what I'm doing, which is kind of my personal norm.) Here's the link:
I nearly fell off my chair when I saw that big thoughtful shot of me at the top. Gang, I'm so not the draw here. My cousin Darnell is the big author and these other people seem so accomplished. I'm just singing some stuff I made up...but there's my big hair at the top. I'm sure it was more that my photo matched the others at the top, but it still frightened me. This must be how the Kennedy's feel.
Anyway, I also realized that it's going to take me four hours and forty-six minutes (not including my picking up Darnell) so I need to get going. Stay safe...and sorry for scaring you with the link. ;-)
-b August 03 Number 17A couple in Arkansas welcomes their 17th child.
You're witnessing one of my rare speechless moments.
Within 30 minutes of the birth, they were already talking about child #18. -b Stealing my Brother's Story"I had one of those moments where I believe there can be justice in the world. I went to get food this morning, at my usual place, and as I was walking toward the breakfast sandwich line this Wall Streeter (in a business suit) runs past me so he can get in line before me. Not all Wall Streeters are like this, but there are definitely an entitled few. He's rich, powerful, and pushy. You know, the kind of guy the world generally rewards. Then his friend comes up behind him and asks him to order him a sandwich, too. Now I'm in line, and I have to wait for two sandwiches to be made before mine. It's too hot in the city to fight with people. So, I just dug in an prepared for the wait. Then, in a beautiful blue moment, the guy behind the counter says: sir, and points toward me. He's holding my breakfast sandwich in his hand. Since I go there every day and order the same sandwich, he knew what I was going to order and went ahead and made it for me. I got to walk ahead of Mr. Wall Street and his yet-to-be-made three eggs and swiss on a sesame bagel. I smiled at him when I walked by."
--a August 02 Men are from Mars
The above image is a hair clip. Men with long hair cannot use it--they would look weird. That kind of stinks if you live in Nashville right now with our record breaking heat and humidity. I had this realization last night when two of the men who took the stage after I did had hair longer than mine. I had my hair tied down in a clip so as not to frighten the audience. I realized for the first time that guys really don't have that same option...and so I've decided not to mention the yucky frizz that continued to grow...and grow...and grow... -b p.s. Kim, Christine and Stacey aren't going to mention it, either, right? Thanks for coming. |
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