You never know what the day will bring. Apparently I’m now in a band. Well, it’s a group of people who are going to get together to jam. I’m not sure if this band will have a name or not.
It’s my boss who’s learning guitar and two male friends of hers. One is a more experienced guitarist. The other is also learning. They wanted a bass player. As long as they don’t mind my lack of experience, it should be fun.
I was asked if I wanted to, and I said, “sure”. Why the hell not?
I enjoyed playing live, and I especially enjoyed getting together in a group with others to practice music together. That was a blast.
Today was my first live bass playing “performance”. My guitar teacher invited her students to play with her at a fundraiser for the radio station she works for.
I switched to bass (from guitar) at the tale end of last year, and I haven’t regretted my decision. I love playing my bass and take weekly lessons with Deborah Magone, a talented local musician and an awesome and patient teacher. Check her out on iTunes. She’s even more awesome in person.
Today’s show was at the Jetty at the Port of Rochester.
I was nervous, but I played anyway. It was terrifying and fun at the same time. My hubby and two sons were there to support me. I’m glad I did it even if I felt a little silly up on stage. I wish I had smiled more, but I was busy concentrating on not making mistakes. I think I only made two small ones. No one noticed.
Here I am waiting for my turn to play. We did five songs, and I played on the last three.
Here I am almost looking like I knew what I was doing.
A video of us performing Teach Your Children.
It was a stretch, and I had to push myself way past my comfort zone to get there and get through it. Would I do it again? I might even if I am a 60 year old beginner musician. Life should be about challenges and successes. It keeps us young.
I went through my calendar items and my photos for the year. All in all, 2018 wasn’t a great year, but it wasn’t all that bad either. I spent a good third of the year sick, and I’ve lost more weight with my stomach woes. I also spent three-quarters of the year pushing myself and learning.
On the learning side, I was inspired to use a $100 Amazon gift card on a very cheap beginner’s guitar package (a cheap electric guitar and a tiny amplifier). I took lessons as a kid on an acoustic and didn’t stick with it. I’ve always regretted not following through so I decided to pick up the cheap guitar to see if I could still do it. I could. Guitar one became eight guitars and two bass guitars (guitar acquisition syndrome). Daily practice sessions where I pushed myself to learn using DVDs, books and online lessons turned into weekly guitar lessons with a private teacher. She’s going to teach me bass, too, since I’ve been doing those lessons on my own for about a week now.
The sick of it was a series of infections – SIBO (small intestinal bacterial overgrowth), a UTI, an infected tooth and emergency root canal, and a long, drawn-out bout with a c. difficile infection that still hasn’t completely resolved itself. I’ve eaten a lot of bland food, taken lots of medication (thus the c. diff infection) and taken more medication to combat the CDI monster. My house smells like bleach, but I guess it could be worse.
2018 also brought two new tattoos and three rock concerts in five days. Not bad considering I was sick and on an antibiotic the week we attended the concerts, one including a trip out of town for two days.
I have no New Year’s resolutions for 2019. My only goal is to get well again. I’d like to spend some of my free time cleaning up the clutter that has taken over my house, but being sick most of the time, working full-time takes the majority of my energy. When I get home, I expend the last of my reserves on practicing the guitar and then I’m done. I sit with my feet up, a heating pad on my belly and a cat on my lap, and I fall asleep in my recliner.
I find myself this year in less of a holiday mood than usual. As the years have passed and my boys have grown from sweet little guys into big, hulking, hairy men, Christmas has definitely lost some of its magic. I try not to feel that way, but it’s true that Christmas is more fun and way more magical through the eyes of a child. Being sick hasn’t improved my mood any.
As an adult, Thanksgiving was never really all that much fun. It was a lot of hard work. From my very first one as a wife when the turkey wasn’t defrosted and I stood at the sink, running a cold, dead, frozen turkey carcass under the hot water trying to thaw it out and gagging the entire time, and my Gramma, honest to a fault, declaring my very first from scratch pie crust to be “tough” and inedible (yes, and making me cry), it’s always been WORK. I always had my mother and grandmother over, and I rushed around and tried to make it all perfect like it had always been when I was little. After Gramma passed, I had my mother over and the stress there was always wondering if she’d stay or if her social anxiety would get to her and she’d ask to go home as soon as she’d arrived. I understood her issues. Hell, half the time, I shared them. When I’d worked so hard to make it nice for her, and she wouldn’t even sit down and eat with us I was so very hurt. I never told her because that just wasn’t done with my mom. She’d have gotten angry and the solution to her would have been no more visits ever. So I tried every year. I hoped she appreciated the effort. She’s been gone thirteen years so I’ll never know now.
Thanksgiving here this year was me sick as a dog.
I watched the parade on TV – one tradition kept. My hubby and boys were here. I believe my hubby made himself a Hormel microwave turkey and dressing meal.
I had chicken bouillon and toast and slept a lot. I’m not sure what my adult sons fixed themselves. There was no way I was touching food for anyone else to eat. I was nauseous, and I didn’t want to share the bacterial GI infection.
So now I look forward to Christmas. I know I should decorate inside the house (we always have a tree) and outside (I always put up lights). I drove to the grocery store last night. First time I’d driven since November 15 and my first lengthy outing (other than a doctor visit). I walked the entire store. I pushed the cart; my sons did all the fetching and carrying. I finish the antibiotic this Wednesday. I am supposed to return to work on Thursday if the blood work I go for Monday or Tuesday is clear and shows no infection/inflammation.
So, yeah, Christmas. Maybe our fake tree this year, but who cares about outside. Right? It’s the people inside who count. I’ll work on psyching myself up.