Musician's Widow

Believe it or not, for the last few years, I’ve worked for a little “hot dog stand” in a bar downtown Nashville part-time. I’d make hot dogs, hamburgers, sandwiches, nachos, Frito-chili pies, and other snack items. I’d sell chips, gum, candy, cigarettes and canned sodas. I did this once or twice a week for about three years.

This year, though, I’ve gone to being a back-up employee, filling in when the owner needs to go out of town or has something come up. I made this choice to allow me to focus more on writing and other career goals. However, I have to admit that I HAVE missed many elements of working there regularly.

Saturday night, I filled in while the owner went out of town for the weekend. It was my first time back in the stand in over two months, and I was actually a little nervous! Did I still have the skills to handle a busy Saturday night? (I usually worked the slower week nights.)

You may be wondering: what kind of skills do you really need to make hot dogs? You need several, and they are skills I credit my time at the stand for teaching me.

1. The most basic of people skills. You can’t be a wall flower and work in any sort of a service industry. You have to be able to talk to people.
2. Figure out how to read people in an instant. Are they drunk? What are they wearing that might tip you off as something to strike up a conversation? Do they have an accent that might help you know they “aren’t from around here?” Are they mad at the world? Are they shy or cocky or open and welcoming to conversation?
3. Learn how to BS. Frankly, this isn’t anything I didn’t already know how to do. Having a journalism degree, I always used to joke that I had my BS in BS. This job just taught me how to turn the volume up on it a little. Example: Have I been to NYC? No, but I have friends who have been. Is there anything they told me at some point that I can use to chat up this business man from the Big Apple?
4. Counting change back. Face it, these days, most places have a machine that tells someone how much change to give back. In this stand, I had to do it all in my head. Math is not my strong point, so I had to learn fast how to count change back and how to figure a tab on the fly.
5. Be the center of attention. When the band promotes the hot dog stand between songs, wave, and smile and maybe make some sort of smart comment to the lead singer to make people laugh. When a customer gets hungry, they’re going to remember you faster that way and, hopefully, feel inclined to come see you.
6. Time management and juggling multiple orders at a time. I still struggle with this if my heads not fully in the game. Luckily, last night, I was on my toes and I was able to fill multiple orders at a time and not get a single one wrong. GO ME!
7. Tipping is good.Tipping is wise. Tip karma will bite you in the butt.

I made a lot of friends working there, and it was always really nice to be a part of the fabric that makes that bar run. I’m still part of the family, but sometimes when I go back I feel a little disconnected now. But I remind myself it was a choice I made to step back from it.

Sadly, there was a big festival in Nashville on Saturday that I think cut into our customers that night. That along with rain made the Saturday night more like a really good week night. A bummer for the stand because sales were down and a bummer for me because my tip jar just didn’t do as well as sometimes.

But I enjoyed myself and was grateful. I was  reminded of things I didn’t miss: sore feet, super late hours, the homeless coming to ask for free food (it kills me to say no…), and coming home smelling like cigarettes and french fries. These things,though, are all minor compared to the fun (c’mon, I get to listen to great music all night and have been known to bust out dancing when things are slow) and satisfaction I have when I do work there.

Last week, when I flew from Austin to Nashville, I was treated to an overbooked flight full of small children. I was even that lucky passenger who ended up with the screaming child who kicked the back of my seat the entire flight. I figured I dare not complain, because it’ll be my luck it’ll be MY child screaming and kicking in a few years. I hoped deep down my lack of (visible) irritation might earn me some good karma points for the future.

Prior to boarding, it was pretty impossible to miss the gate crawling with children. I groaned, but soon one family caught my attention. I was afforded some wonderful little-people-watching.

I watched as a dad lead three kids to the windows so they could watch the planes come and go. His brood consisted of two boys, approximately ages 6 and 5, and a little girl who had to be shooting for 2 years old. The mom was no where to be seen for a long time, and I was filled with admiration at the dad’s patience. He was the picture of calm! The two boys were pretty self-sufficient. The little girl, though, was this whirlwind bundle of energy. Dad was constantly trying to let her be free without letting her get away.

At one point, though, things were a bit calmer around the gate, and Dad let the little girl run a little further. Her eyes shined bright and her smile was wide as this big expanse of carpet opened in front of her. Without hesitation, she threw her tiny body in the direction of “freedom” only to quickly get tangled up in her own feet. Down she went.

I waited for the tears to start, but instead this look of shock came over her face. Her mouth going from a smile to a shocked,  “Oh!” She blinked as if she were confused by her fall. Soon, two strong arms scooped her back up to her feet, as Dad lifted her up, set her down, and without hesitation she was off again without fear. This time, she got all the way across the open area.

Right away, I was struck by this realization. Even today, at 29, I’m still that little girl. We all are from time to time.

Life opens up a door, and we look out across this open area. And with bright shining eyes, we run towards it only to get tripped up — often by our feet. We haven’t fully prepared for this opportunity, or perhaps some mistake from the past sneaks up to bite us. Maybe we actually suddenly second-guess our own abilities.

Out of no where, strong arms come to scoop us up. Those arms could literally be a hug (or a bit of advice, or even a loan) from a parent. Perhaps its an encouraging word from a friend. Maybe its even as simple as a smile from a stranger that gives us a boost in our attitude.

However, its in that instant that we have a choice. We can give up and decide instead to ask someone to carry us. Perhaps we can just sit down where we are and give up.  Or we can decide to run. To take that encouragement and aid and decide to run towards our goal and opportunity in our life at full speed, un-afraid of falling again.

I was left sitting for the whole flight chewing on this revelation. How many times have I opted to give up? How many times have I taken the lift up and continued to run? And will I have the nerve to run again and again towards my goals?

I hope any time I think about sitting down and giving up I’ll think about that bright eyed little girl with no fear of falling. Who after falling down, getting up and running across the room continued to be adventurous. Who tripped over luggage and her own feet, only to get up and try again. Who only cried at the top of her lungs when she was strapped back in her stroller, because all she wanted to do was keep going. She was determined to not be stopped.

I want to have that little girl’s energy and ambition.

I will have it.

Read the fine print. We’ve all heard that advice time and time again, but I’m willing to bet we are ALL guilty of not doing it now and then. Most of the time, I read the fine print when something seems too good to be true, and I want to prove to myself I am right. It’s the times I want to believe “too good to be true” IS true that I don’t read it. That, or when I think I already know the fine print.

Within the last few weeks I’ve run into cases where I failed to read the fine print. The first case came out fine, and I think I ultimately ended up making a better decision for my situation than I would have otherwise. The second case… Well…

My husband and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary this week. We celebrated it in the Smoky Mountains area of Tennessee. We’ve made many trips to the Gatlinburg area, and I think its safe to say that its our favorite vacation location.

This past summer, we got signed up for a three day/two night trip to Pigeon Forge through this time share resort company. Go on our trip, sit through their presentation, and receive gift cards to Bass Pro Shops whether we sign up for the timeshare or not. It was that easy.

Too good to be true, right? We should have thought so, but somehow it all made sense. And somehow we missed the “minimum income required” in the fine print.

Fast forward about six months to this week. Excited for our trip, we’d not been out that direction in over a year, and after a stressful few months we figured a pre-paid vacation would be the thing to clear our minds. We arrived at the check-in location, and it was at that time we were given a “questionnaire” and the one that stumped us was “yearly income.”

See, in both of our careers, nailing down a yearly income is a struggle. We both have income from multiple sources through the year, and usually we don’t know how we came out until we file our tax return. It usually ends up being the surprise that we are never really happy with. So, we opted to go fairly middle of the road in our answer. Enough to live comfortably, but low enough to show we’re not exactly able to have that many “fun times and toys.”

Page two comes. First requirement, a minimum income. One check box above the one we’d checked. We looked at each other with alarm, but I ultimately shrugged it off. Its not like we were drastically below that minimum (Literally could have been less than $100 less given the span of income choices) and we WERE starting a whole new year. Surely this wouldn’t be an issue. The final requirement would be that we both attend the presentation, lest our deal be voided and we’d be charged full price for our room instead of the discounted rate. (After all of the events of our trip, I read the fine print and discovered all of this in there. So they did cover their butt there. Its in the fine print, why should they tell you this from the get-go? Right?)

Our room was very nice. It reminded me of a small apartment, and with a full (small) kitchen we were able to avoid eating out that night. I had brought food along to cook, and we spent the whole evening inside from the cold.

The next morning — our actual anniversary — we headed over to the presentation. We checked in, and before long were called to the front desk. “You don’t make the minimum requirement, you can’t take the presentation. We can’t change the original answer you gave. Call this number for more details.”

We wouldn’t be ALLOWED to sit through the presentation? What did this mean for the room rate?

We found out fast it voided everything. No gift cards and the room price went immediately back to full price. AND we were minutes after check-out time. In other words, “You don’t make enough money so we are going to screw you over and charge you more money.” Kind of like credit cards these days.  Can’t pay your bill? OK! We’ll just charge you  MORE MONEY because that just makes the most logical sense. Right?

Married 3 Years!

I’ll never be a millionaire because I have too much logic going on in my brain. I can’t think of these ways to make people who can’t afford things to pay more for those same things that I’ll give to a rich man for free. But I digress…

Luckily, at the actual resort, the front desk woman was incredibly sweet and checked us out immediately and assured us we wouldn’t be charged for a second night after all. If more people were as kind as this woman, the world would be a far kinder and happier place.

I’ve carefully left out the name of this resort company all along, and I’ll continue to do so from here on out. However, I will add a link to “Pissed Consumers” page regarding the company… Reading this page made me realize that they probably did us a huge favor in the end. It is also in reading this page that I wish I’d done my homework sooner and known better what kind of company we were dealing with.

My husband and I refused to let it ruin our Anniversary, and in the end we made our way home a day early. Snow and ice that fell over night made us very grateful we HAD decided to come on home, and everything came out all right. We had a wonderful and memorable day. Made it home safely. And didn’t have to sit though some stuffy 90 – 120 minute presentation on our special day.

Oh and the lesson to read the fine print was nailed down even harder.

If I had time and ability to write a blog entry every time one came to me, this blog would be updated about five times a day versus once a week at best. This realization truly frustrates me and makes me realize that I need to MAKE time to write more often.

Time is money they say.

Words are cheap others say.

These opposing ideals are what seem to be holding me back. And this must change.

Recent topic ideas: new discoveries in my city (I finally visiting the Bluebird Cafe and fell in love with it just as I feared I would), family coming to visit (my brother will never know how much it meant to me to have him and his family come up this summer), roots and wings, and anniversaries of important events.

Perhaps I will go back and revisit some of these topics at another time. But for tonight, I lament the fact that I’ve let these words expire as time flew past. And I realize once again that the dreams I dream mean I need to marry those two old cliches.

Time is money. Words take time. And in my case. Words are money. And every word I write. Every sentence I compose. They all lead me down the path to my dreams of writing for a living.

hack: verb [...] 4 a: to write computer programs for enjoyment b: to gain access to a computer illegally

Or in my case, to access my Facebook account and proceed to tell everyone that I was in London and needed money to get home. Amusing considering that I don’t even have a passport to get over there if I wanted to in the first place! A friend passed along part of her exchange with “me.”

10:46 “Me” — Am stuck in London. I was mugged at a gun point last night
10:46 My friend –  what?
10:46 “Me” –  All cash credit card and cell was stolen off me
10:46 My friend — did you call the bank?
10:46 “Me” — It was scary and terrible am just happy i was not hurt
10:47 My friend — definetely

10:48 My friend — wait…where are you?
10:49 “Me” — Am in a local library
10:49 My friend –  where’s craig?
10:49 “Me” — Is not in Town

10:52 “Me” –  Can you help me with some money to settle my hotel bills and also get a cab to the airport….so as to catch up with my flight
10:52 My friend — what flight, where are you goin
10:52 “Me” — I will def refund it back to you as soon as i get back home. Am coming back home. I promise i will def refund it. I don’t to miss my flight. Are you there with me?

11:02 My friend — call your parents :):) you know i have no money…
11:03 “Me” — They went to Fiji Island on holiday. It just a little money. I will def refund it back to you i promise
11:04 My friend — and how do you suggest i give you the money (that i don’t have…)..?
11:04 “Me” — Cos i don’t want to miss my flight now that the embassy has agreed to help me with a refurn flight back home. You have your credit card with you
11:04 My friend — no
11:05 “Me” — why not go to your bank
11:05 My friend — i have no bank
11:05 “Me” — and get some money
11:05 My friend — i want to know where exactly you are
11:05 “Me” — ok
11:06 My friend — tell me your exact location, hon  i know! why don’t you call your brother?
11:07 “Me” — 626 Chiswick High Road, Chiswick, London W4 5RY  he went with dad and mom to Fiji Island
11:08 My friend — right. tough luck, dude
11:08 “Me”– It just a little money $590 Any luck?
11:08 My friend — no

I don’t even know where to begin! Fiji Island? On holiday? REALLY???

I’m originally from Texas. Holiday to me is Christmas. Not a vacation. And my friend they chatted with here is in another country… which makes the whole request for money to “come back home” all the more amusing.

While I laugh now, at the time I was angry and frustrated. This person or spambot had hacked into my profile, added a different email address to my account and then changed my password. And as I went in to change my password so I could regain access… as soon as I changed it, the spambot would change it again! This went on for a good half hour before I was able to regain control of my own profile.

I am SO grateful to the friends who alerted me of this happening, and I apologize profusely at the same time… as they had to deal with this impostor and its attempts to get money from them.

Facebook security has been notified of the incidence, as has the email host of the email address that hacked my account. I have gone through and changed almost ALL of my passwords to various sites. A friend sent me the link to an article giving advice on ways to create more secure passwords. Now, I just hope I can remember the new passwords!

The irony of this situation is the fact that I am diligent in spyware and virus scanning, with scans set to run multiple times a week while I sleep. But I also have to acknowledge that in this day and age, even doing that does not guarantee that one is safe. Sometimes, its just a random thing, which is what I really think this case was. I was target of the day.

I’m left feeling a little like someone broke into my house, snooped around, did a little rearranging (as some of my links were deleted!), and then ultimately stole a gallon of milk out of my refrigerator. I feel violated and frustrated, and yet I have to also laugh about it. Because the scenario painted by the spammer was so far out there…

Spammers… smart in how they are able to access your account. But not too bright in pulling the wool over people’s eyes.

Well.

At least in this case.

By the way, to anyone curious, that address is a legitimate hotel address: Chiswick Moran Hotel.

We’re in the thick of tour season, which means artists and their bands and crews are hitting the blacktop hard, traveling all over the country and the world. My Facebook friends feed and my Twitter feeds are full of musicians home for a few hours then off to wherever. And its also full of us wives/husbands going, “I’d sure like to have my spouse home for more than 24 hours… I miss them.”

I am one of those saying that.

Usually, this whole touring thing doesn’t phase me much. After we got married, my husband was home for about a day and then he was off on a two week run with the group he was with at that time. However, recently, I’ve found myself missing him more and more as he leaves on another run to Canada or Ohio or Florida or wherever.

Now, keep in mind, I am SO thankful he has a full schedule. It means money stresses are a LOT less right now, and I know that he does so love the road and the music. And its so good to see him doing what he loves to do. Its what we all aspire to do for a living: what we love.

However, I do miss him, and its in that I am also thankful. Because all this time apart has made me more thankful of the time we have together. It’s made me really bring what is most important to me into focus. Those few precious hours or, if we’re lucky a few days, I don’t worry about the bills or if the house is in great shape. I just want to spend my time with him. I want to treasure that time. I want to put it in a bottle to keep forever.

See, for a long time, we’ve been letting life lead us, versus us living life. Bills must be paid. We have responsibilities to handle. And while we aren’t turning our backs on our responsibilities, we’re also prioritizing a lot more carefully and stubbornly. Living in the moment for sure.

Mass tonight was, ironically, about the need to get away for a vacation. Craig and I are hoping to get away ourselves for a couple days coming up. However, it was a poem at the end of the sermon that really rocked me back on my heels. It left me fighting tears. I want to share it…

But You Didn’t
by Anonymous

Remember the day I borrowed your brand
new car and dented it?
I thought you’d kill me, but you didn’t.

And remember the time I dragged you to the beach,
and you said it would rain, and it did?
I thought you’d say, “I told you so.” But you didn’t.

Do you remember the time I flirted with all
the guys to make you jealous, and you were?
I thought you’d leave, but you didn’t.

Do you remember the time I spilled strawberry pie
all over your car rug?
I thought you’d hit me, but you didn’t.

And remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance
was formal and you showed up in jeans?
I thought you’d drop me, but you didn’t.

Yes, there were lots of things you didn’t do.
But you put up with me, and loved me, and protected me.

There were lots of things I wanted to make up to you
when you returned from Vietnam.

But you didn’t.
Copy and pasted from here.

We don’t know how much time we have with our loved ones. I attempt to cherish the time I have with mine. It’s why I make sure to at LEAST text my parents a good night message every night. It’s why my husband and I make time for each other every single day he’s on the road. It’s why I hate that I’ve not talked to my brother in about a month, and I seriously need to change that soon.

Live in the moment and make every one of them count… especially those moments spent with the ones we love.

Me and Mrs. Baker

Mrs. Baker lived across the street from my parents when I was born in 1980. I’ve literally known her my whole life. And while my family long ago moved from that small town, and I’ve since moved to another state, Mrs. Baker is still in her house at the end of the cul de sac in that small town where I was born.

Now here is the kicker of it all: Mrs. Baker is 92-years-old and still just as sharp as a tack. Further, she is one of the most positive people I know.

My parents and I went to visit Mrs. Baker on Sunday, and when I left her house I had to marvel at how many lessons this woman has been teaching me through the years — most specifically the last few years — and how I really want to take those lessons and put them into action.

Lessons I’ve learned, or am trying to learn, from Mrs. Baker:

1. Everyone has problems. When I think I’ve got problems, I need to take a step back and realize I am not unique in those problems.

Every time I get a letter from Mrs. Baker — whose letters are one of the few items of mail that are opened immediately — she will mention that her rhumatoid arthritis is bothering her, or perhaps she’s come down with a cold. But it never fails that she follows that statement with something about having nothing to complain about and that there are others worse off than she is. When we go to visit her, she’ll in passing mention how she broke her shoulder earlier this year, but its not to complain that it happened. No, it’s to tell us about something that happened on the day she came home from the hospital. It’s never a complaint. And when someone comes to her to complain or whine about something, she’ll just reply, “Everyone has problems.”

Words of wisdom from a 92-year-old.

2. I have many blessings. Going hand in hand with not complaining comes the reminder that I have many more blessings than hardships. So I have a few bills that are late. Instead of moping about that, I should instead be grateful I have a job to make the money to pay those bills… even if they are late.

As we left, Mrs. Baker commented that she doesn’t go anywhere any more. She long ago gave up driving. And she only leaves to go to the doctor occasionally. She has a woman who comes to help her six days a week with chores around the house, and a neighbor keeps her lawn in shape. She is homebound, but instead of moping around the house she marvels at how blessed she is to still live at home and not in a rest home.

There’s a way of looking at any issue and instead of focusing on the negative aspects of it, to instead count ones blessings.

3. Friends are a priceless entity. It’s impossible to go visit Mrs. Baker and her phone not ring countless times in a couple of hours time. I truly believe her friends are what keep her going.

It makes me smile how she has a certain time she calls certain friends each day. And she knows that they will call her at certain times as well. The conversation may not last but a minute, but its that voice on the other end of the line that makes her smile and laugh. We need human contact to bring joy to our lives. Friends are not only a blessing, but an important part of a long, happy, healthy life.

4. Put your mind to it. We had a long conversation today about how many things in life can be accomplished simply by putting your mind to it.

There are thousands of self help books that promote the success of positive thinking. If you think it, you can do it. If you want it bad enough, you can make it happen. How one thinks affects everything in their life. So much of our life is really in our power and up to us to just choose to do or have. All too often we left outside forces make up our minds for us. Don’t. Be yourself. Take your life in your own hands and make it what you want.

5. The power of prayer. Mrs. Baker long ago had to stop going to church when she gave up driving. However, she is just as devout of a Christian as ever and just as active in church as before. She’s chairwoman of the prayer chain. Its up to her to let others know of anything that happens to a member of the church in which they need prayers. Be it illness or injury or any number of needs. She prays for many others, and they in turn pray for her.

I think we could all learn so much from one another, if we’d only just pay attention.

I know there are countless more lessons I could learn from Mrs. Baker, as well as from others. I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface. And I, for one, never want to stop learning.