Once a week for the past month or so, I’ve been kissing my son and husband goodbye and heading to another part of town to sing with people I’ve only recently met. I am not perky at practices, but I do my best to get my part right and generally be a good band member until I beg off at 9 p.m. This is ridiculously early by rock-n-roll standards, but necessary if I’m to get through the next day of parenting with a minimum of zombie brain moments. My band leader is exceedingly gracious about my early departures.
So why do I stay up late and slog myself through the next day? Singing well with a group of people is for me like I imagine hitting the jackpot is for a gambling addict. It’s one of the best feelings I can feel, a happy place I can nestle into and know that I am unquestionably where I belong. I also think it gets me high, though that part is more alchemical than rational.
Also, I get to pet the world’s softest chihuahua:
Further, I’m working on a really cool project — Anne Sexton’s poem Snow White, set to music by Ann Hirschfeld, the latest effort of the St. Louis collective called Poetry Scores. If you live in town and would like to see and hear the fruits of our labor, head to Mad Art on Friday, November 8. Doors at 6, free admission, cash bar, performance at 8, with artworks and food based on the poem out for all to consume. Here’s a link to an eloquent and detailed description of the event.
Hope to see you there.
Mama-Come-Lately 
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