Month: July, 2015


Vocalists ask me on a weekly basis if there are any vacancies for them on the scheduled roster of gigs I play.


There isn’t.


The songs I play do have words. But in the context of a dinner or brunch service, the lyrics need not be heard. The melodies alone are sufficient for providing the background atmosphere.


Why is it then that when I pray, I feel the need to articulate in detail every petition of my heart’s desire?


There is another kind of spiritual and meditative power without words.


Regardless of the capacity to speak, we can trust and understand that we are already heard.




Lately, I’ve been spending a little more time greasing my wheels.


What this means is that I’m not lifting as heavy as I know I’m capable.


Instead of pushing to failure, some recent studies have shown that neurological and motor neuron pathways can be stimulated to affect greater loads simply by taxing the muscles more frequently.


In other words, strength can be increased over time by actively conditioning the motions used for lifting with lighter weights; as long as this training is scheduled consistently, and often.


So when outside the gym, I caught myself complaining that I felt bored and over it all, I began to rethink all of the underwhelming and unchallenging tasks I’ve had to endure so far this summer.


Maybe my squeaky wheel of an attitude could get a little greasing if I begin treat those tasks with a little more importance.


They could be leading up to bigger gains.


I’ve been given a lot of musical direction lately.


For example, Night & Day should be faster in tempo, “with a little more snap.”


Also, someone else told me the way I played Unchained Melody was more “flow-y” than the Righteous Brothers would have taken it.


Finally, in MacArthur’s Park, the part where “someone leaves the cake out in the rain” just needs to be “way more forceful and dramatic.”




In a social space where tweets, likes and comments are deemed appropriate discursive channels, having an opinion is becoming about more than just having an asshole.


Not because everyone has one, but nowadays, everyone is simply dying to show you how badly theirs stinks.


The only opinions that truly matter to me these days are the ones that I hold in my heart.


Mainly, that I fought the battles meant to be fought and left good enough alone where it wasn’t my business to interfere.



I didn’t know why it upset me so much when a lady put her red shoes in my face.


She took them off her feet and held them inches from my nose as she went into rapturous detail about how fabulous it was to walk around in heels completely emblazoned with tiny, sparkly, rhinestones.


Then it clicked home.


Dorothy, you have to be careful about what you think is super awesome, and consequently, how you represent.


Because, gurrrrl, you may just end up coming off looking cheap and ugly to other people.


Like those damn shoes.