Month: March, 2018


So, I lost the combination lock that I had been using at the gym for the past 5 years.


Which made me incredibly sad because it represented some kind of credibility.


The lock bore the chips, dents, scratches that can only come from a daily and dedicated fitness practice.


My new lock is shiny and doesn’t even turn smoothly.


I guess, over time it will get broken in too.


Some things clearly need fixing and forgiving.


But with some other things, scars don’t have to be necessarily bad.








Since one of my closet and dearest friends mentioned to me this week that the Detroit Jazz Festival presents a Guardian Award to a recipient every year, I’ve been obsessing.


Not on getting the award per se.


Rather, over what exactly I keep guard in my heart.


I’m pretty sure I have a bunch of morals and standards in there that I try to put into practice, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.


A bunch of loved ones who have touched and shaped me, who remind me that I am capable of love in return.


But mostly, I think, there’s a lot of hope and trust in there, which keeps me faithfully guarded against that easy slide into negativity.


I took a screen shot of a lead sheet from the iReal Books app on my cell phone, emailed it to myself, enlarged it in Photoshop, then printed it out to put in my binder for the gig I’m playing tomorrow.


And because management wasn’t co-operating with my advice, I convinced a bride that we move the piano into her room, knowing with absolute certainty that this was the best solution to having multiple musicians work different gigs simultaneously within the same venue.


I’m always just plain grateful when problems get resolved, back-ass-wards or not.


On my first day back at the gym since the cold, my trainer took a new approach to getting my strength and stamina back.


She loaded up a bar and set the timer.


“We’re going to see how long it takes for you to squat one hundred reps and sweat the rest of this cold out of you.”


True enough, at the end of it, I felt better than I had been feeling all week.


So it should be no sweat then to play this Cinderella Tea event next weekend with a singer friend.


All I should have to do is practice with my sheet music at least one hundred times.


Trust that rehearsal goes well.


Pray that the children will be well-behaved, receptive and attentive.


Hope that I won’t have any technical issues with the microphone.


Believe that the singer will be in good voice and arrive on time with no problems.


Depend on management to handle all the other events that day to ensure no other conflicts.


I’m sweating it just a little.


I’m just back from urgent care.

I have a cold.

The sinus pressure started last night in the middle of my first set at work. By the end of the night the post nasal drip was making my throat slightly sore.

Since there isn’t a fever or body aches, and the strep test came back negative, the doctor assured me it was a simple cold and would be gone in 5-10 days.

I have antibiotics to knock out the 20 percent chance that this might be bacterial (versus viral), and a decongestant to help break up the mucus.

I’m well enough to play.

But too under the weather to lift.

And that, even though I know I’m doing the right thing by resting, leaves me cold.