Ebola has arrived in the U.S. and for the past few weeks, ever since Thomas Duncan was admitted to that Dallas hospital, we’ve been barraged with increasingly histrionic, 24-hour Ebola coverage. As more people become infected, a sense of unease intensifies. The media is slobbering all over this one, accentuating each report with pictures of people in hazmat suits and the little graphic of the virus under microscope. It’s creepy for sure. But should we be alarmed? I have no clue. I only know…
A month or so ago, I made the decision to take a brief hiatus from music. For the most part, it was a purely practical move. I’ve been slamming on a couple of big writing projects. I’ve also been putting in extra muscle on this beautiful new website. Both of these have exacted an inordinate amount of time. Throw in practice, gigs and the daily demands of parenting and what you have is one frazzled chick. There are only so many hours in a day…
A year or so ago, I was chatting it up with a fellow vocalist. We were chortling, snorting and swapping stories, when at one point in the conversation, she told me that she doesn’t practice. (Screeching brakes, crashing plates) “Huh? Say what?” I sputtered back. She said it again, “I don’t practice.” In that moment, I was completely incapable of hiding my disbelief. My face contorted just like Curly’s does right before he falls over and spins around on the floor. Part of me…
