Ah. Fall in Southern California.
So I've been back home a week, contemplating my latest trip to Nashville. I'm going to share with you all the fun details, but before I get any further, I want to let you know that I have chosen to move forward with a ginormous undertaking...I am making a video for "Go On." And it's going to be a GOOD one! The song was written with a spirit of hopefulness and encouragement and I want the images accompanying it to match that and make an impact on anyone who sees it. I don't want to make a video for the sake of throwing something up there. This one, this song, needs to MEAN something. It needs to SAY something.
As you know, I am an independent artist living in a bankrupt state in the midst of worldwide recession. I am completely, utterly, for the first time in my life, living only on faith and the (usually) unshakeable belief that I am MEANT to be sharing my gifts with others not only as my "ministry" but as my living. I am right where I'm supposed to be and I feel confident in that.
That said, I have learned a lot the last couple years about swallowing my pride and asking for help when I need it. As the oldest of my siblings and all my cousins (save for one who lived far away) this does not come easily because I am used to being the one taking care of everything for everyone else. I have applied this to my career too, with the attitude that I'd be damned to let anyone think I didn't EARN any of my accomplishments. So I spent 20 years fading into the shadows, hoping someone would notice and shine a light on me.
What a moron! God helps those who help themselves, people! Why should I be blessed with opportunity when I'm not willing to even ask opportunity to come my way? When I'm not willing to attempt to make opportunity of my own?
I believe people WANT to be helpful. I believe there are those in this world who believe in my talent and my music. And those who believe in the message of "Go On" and would like to be part of helping me get that message out there on a larger scale. A lovingly-made video could definitely do that. And so, I will ask for YOUR help in completing this vision with me.
CALL TO ACTION:
If every individual on my email list donated just $5 we could make a decent video.
If every individual donated just $10 we could make a REALLY GOOD video.
If every individual donated AND shared the call to action with a friend...well...who knows how awesome it could be!
I know things are tight for everyone right now. This is why I am only asking you to prayerfully consider sacrificing one drive-thru lunch or overpriced latte to be part of spreading a message of hope in a time when the world could certainly use some. Surely we can all manage that, yes? And if the spirit moves you beyond that, then naturally I won't stand in the way of Divine Intervention! And likewise, if you simply cannot spare any cash right now, but would like to volunteer your time and talents to us, we will be most grateful to accept that as well.
To be a part of our vision, click the "Donate" button below. If you don't have a PayPal account, don't worry. Scroll down and click "Don't have a PayPal account?" and follow the instructions using your debit/credit card safely and securely.
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Okay enough of the bleeding heart and such...who wants to hear about Nashvegas???
Quickly, I must be sure that I publicly thank the people who were so instrumental in making everything come together. My sincerest, most heartfelt thanks to:
Jon and Saundra Kimberlain, without whom I would never have gotten there in the first place.
Mary and Robert Green, for the free room, board and pumpkin muffins.
Chris Mitchell, for booking the venue and taking care of local advertising and the like.
Gianna, Janet Kenyon and Chris Mitchell & The Collection for doing the gig with me!
Jeff Rogers, Keith Kenyon, Derek Wolfford, Geoff Koch, Caroline Barry, Tim the sax player, Janet's two guitar players whose names I can't remember (did I miss anyone?) for playing their asses off with us. And Keith and Janet again for letting us rehearse at their place.
The folks at Music Row Bar & Grill, for letting us play there. And for coming up with burgers at the last minute.
James R. Wigginton III for letting me use his VocalEdge Studio to teach lessons for a day and for putting up a last minute house guest at my request. THAT is a good friend, ladies and gents.
Ellen Tift Goebel of Worldwide Groove Corporation for taking care of the live streaming of the show for us and tweeting about it all the while.
Susan Schwab, Chris Mitchell's assistant, who video taped the show and helped out with all sorts of details that I wasn't there to see before we ever arrived.
And of course, everyone who showed up at the shows and for lessons, especially you out-of-staters! You will never know how loved it made us ALL feel to have you there supporting us.
And Pancake Pantry, for still existing.
Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!
So Tuesday the 13th was a travel day. Los Angeles to Atlanta to Nashville. The first leg (four and a half hours) was FIRST CLASS! It was my first time ever and let me tell you...any juicy girl or boy can tell you that being able to comfortably sit on a plane is worth our own weight in gold. I always poo-poo'd it. But I was wrong. Oh so very, very wrong. AND they fed me an acceptably tasty, completely balanced hot breakfast, too. Aw yeah. First class, I love you.
And then we were back in the ghetto on the second leg. No use harping on the details of this part of the story. At least picking up my rental car was quick and easy (thank you Hertz via Priceline!) and the car was cute as a button. I tooled around all week in a little electric blue Honda Accent. Since my beloved Penelope Prizm is on her last leg, I felt REALLY divarific driving a car I didn't have to worry about. Nice.
So my hostess, Mary Green, aka Muffin Mary, is a caretaker. A nurturer. A giver. A mommy. She welcomes me into her home on Tuesday night and literally pulls hot homemade pumpkin muffins out of the oven seconds later. Cuz they're my favorite. I get an entire guest room and bathroom to myself. The bed is huge and poofy with a million pillows. Her husband Robert informs me, "If you go hungry in this house, it's your own damned fault. Eat whatever you want." He also made sure my coffee was ready for the morning when I got up, all I had to do was hit the "start" button. For customer satisfaction, NOTHING beats L'Hôtel du Vert!
Wednesday, I thought, would be rather quiet until I went to meet my guitar player Jeff Rogers (heretofore referred to as J-Jeff) to rehearse for a writer's night we'd be playing later that night. Not so. My keyboard player Geoff Koch (heretofore to be referred to as G-Geoff) and I had a miscommunication about charts and I ended up scrambling to find some for him. Thankfully J-Jeff was able to make copies of his.
We did the hand-off at my old alma mater, Belmont University, where J-Jeff teaches part time and where we'd be rehearsing that night. Which looks NOTHING like it did when I attended! What once was a spacious entertainment-plantation-turned-girls-school-turned-small-private-college is now building after building after partially-constructed building of fancy shmancy specialized schools. Besides Belmont's forte of music and music business programs, apparently now there are considerable art, health science, drama and DANCE degrees, even Asian studies and a brand new school of law (how ya like us NOW, Vandy???). One can no longer drive through campus and get a good look. The roads I used to cut through campus on have buildings covering them now and it wasn't until I was standing on the steps of the School of Music that I could see any grass, the back of the Belmont mansion or the old water tower. It is not my school any longer. The times they are a-changin'...
After running through three songs from my set with J-Jeff in a former storage-closet-turned-spare-teacher's-office, J-Jeff and I headed over to Music Row Bar & Grill in the Vanderbuilt area, where we'd meet my dear old friend Chris Mitchell and be part of their weekly writer's night, "For the Sake of Music." This is where I realized, "Holy shizzle dizzle, this place is TINY!" I was instantly glad I decided not to have three backup singers after all for Saturday night (next time, girls!). But it was quaint and a major improvement over the dusty basement it used to be back when the venue was Guido's Pizza.
But they smoke in there. *cue horrific record scratch effect*
I'm a former habitual smoker. I do not have a problem with people wanting to smoke outside, even if it's right in front of the door of the building I'm walking into. But I am just NOT used to singing in smokey rooms anymore and even though it was only one or two people and the room wasn't crowded, my eyes burned by the time we left. I'm a wuss! I was glad again that we opted to make Saturday's show a non-smoking one...which now that I think about it, probably indicates why a lot of my former BMI co-workers didn't come...hmmmmmm...that makes perfect sense. But if you ever worked at BMI, it would make perfect sense WHY they smoke, too. *shiver*
So we play our three songs around 10-ish and man...there's just something about being onstage with someone who's known you for a bazillion years, who really knows your style...J-Jeff and I locked in and did a little damage to the joint, I think. People were coming downstairs to the play room from upstairs in the bar to check us out, so the room was comfortably full by the time we were done. And Chris doing the sound for us was a bonus, cuz I don't think anyone probably knows my voice as well as I do but for Chris Mitchell, so the mix was great. Till that point, I had not felt like I'd returned "home" at all.
Thursday was a little nuts. I realized the night before that J-Jeff gave G-Geoff his charts, but that did NOT include the charts for the piano/vocal songs G-Geoff would have to play that J-Jeff wouldn't! ACK!!! So I called and said the last thing any player wants to hear the night before rehearsal: "I can't get you what you need. Can you pleasepleaseplease do it yourself?" Ugh. Darci = EPIC FAIL. Fortunately, G-Geoff is a genius. And he's an old friend. So he didn't make a voodoo doll of me and stick it with pins (to my knowledge), he just made the charts.
I also spent the morning on the phone texting about five different people scheduling pickups, drop-offs, lunches, and finding a place for my friend Craig to stay last minute because the family he was SUPPOSED to stay with came down with the icky oodely cruds. It all ended up working out but I was toast by noon!
Gianna flew in from Houston that afternoon and was whisked off to Fisk University for a live radio interview. I jetted over to my friend Jamie's voice studio to get his keys so I could use his facilities that Sunday to teach some lessons. James R. Wigginton III is a crazy motha trucka. And so, so, so generous. We visited briefly till Gigi met us there. YAY HAPPY SCREAMY COLLEGE GIRLS!!! Then...me and Gi went to get our eat on. We went to this cute, cheap little Greek place on the turnabout at the bottom of Music Row, which I cannot remember the name of, but had great food. I've been obsessed with Greek salads since.
That night was rehearsal with the band for Saturday's show. Janet Kenyon, who was also sharing the bill with us, is married to my bass player, Keith. They let us use their place to rehearse (thank you! $0). Derek, our drummer, was sick as a dog, poor thing. I mean SIIIII-HIIIIICK. Like backing away from me saying, "Don't hug me, I'm sick!" sick. And he didn't complain even once the whole night. So we started off with Gi's set, which had a few bumps in the road. She was whittling songs with lots of production and ample brass sections down to just keys, guitar, bass and drums and it took some creativity. She wished she had a sax player at least. I personally thought it sounded fine, but I probably would've been a little stressed, too. We moved on and my stuff went smoothly cuz I'm a meat-n-three kinda girl in ALL aspects of life it appears, including my songwriting. The guys would've had to REALLY try to get something wrong on my tunes.
Friday dawns and I honestly can't remember much about it. I think I just hung out at Mary's in the morning, relaxed and posted promo for the show and my day of lessons online. I met a couple former co-workers for lunch at Olive Garden (of all places - cuz we have NONE of those in California!), zipped over to have Chris trim my hair (he's an excellent stylist), then met my aforementioned friend Craig for dinner at O'Charley's (again - NONE of those in California). We had a lovely heart-to-heart. Craig is one of the dearest people in my life. He's been the one friend who has kept on me like a fly to molasses when I moved out here, always asking what I planned to accomplish that day or week, always checking in, always encouraging me, always shooting it straight and calling me on my crap. He has never stopped. I lurve him.
Saturday...SHOW DAY! I slept in. I lazed around. I made no plans to do much of ANYTHING except warshin' up until I had to show up at the venue for sound check at 5:30. At some point between rehearsal Thursday and soundcheck Saturday Gigi had conjured up a sax player. I had NOT been able to conjur a door guy. So, Gigi and I had to do it. On one hand, we were able to see and hug EVERYONE who came...but we also had the way awkward task of asking for their money. But ya know...considering all the things we COULD have completely forgotten to do, that was quite minor, so I'll live with it. My only real complaint is that the venue asked us to check IDs and put wrist bands on everyone for them cuz "it's easier for you to do it." Ummmmmmm...no it's not. I have a box full of money here. I'm checking names against a guest list. I'm greeting people I haven't seen in years. I'm trying to sell my CD. I'm trying to be available for our friend Ellen who was trying to stream the show live on ustream.tv and Tweet the url while we're doing so. AND Melinda Doolittle decides to show up. I've got a woman with a household name in front of me. Check the damned IDs at the bar when someone wants a drink. Harumph.
At that point, much of the evening became a blur of hugs, laughter, cheering and singing our patooties off. The place was PACKED. Shoulder to shoulder. Some folks had to watch the show on the big plasma screen in the bar upstairs because there was no room for them downstairs in the play room. The sound was killer (EXCELLENT job, Chris!). I didn't get to see Janet or Gigi live because I was at the door, but they sounded and looked amazing from what I caught on the plasma. My set almost couldn't have gone any better, had a couple flubs no one noticed but us. I still managed to get a standing ovation at the end. Later on, Chris Mitchell and the Collection closed out the night (a band I was in for quite a few years when I lived in Nashville) and Chris called me up to sing our old favorite, "People Get Ready," and the room...the room...the room was on fi-yah! Another standing O and joining everyone was the owner of the Nashville Symphony. On his feet for the rocker kids! And Melinda Doolittle came for Janet (cuz they're besties) and stayed WAY longer than she intended to (with a show of her own the next day) cuz she was having such fun. So NONE of that sucked!
The best part though, was an unexpected guest. GuestS, actually. An acquaintance from good ole Johnstown High School just happened to be in Nashville the very same weekend competing in the Sweet Adelines International barbershop chorus competition (that's right...barbershop!). Not only did Miz Carolyn take time out of her busy schedule to come see my show during that intense week full of rehearsals, rehearsals and MORE rehearsals...but she ALSO brought ten or so of her fellow chorus members with her! These lovely ladies had NO IDEA who I was or even if I was any good and they all came out anyway! And ON TOP of it, two of them booked voice lessons with me for the next day! I was absolutely blown away by that. I wished I could've stayed in town one extra day so I could have gone to see them compete (wouldn't YOU want to go see a barbershop competition??? sounds AWESOME to me) but alas, we all know how flying is for anyone lacking a Trumpian bank account. I'm still waiting to hear how they did...
*Edit* THEY FREAKIN' WON!!!!! CONGRATS TO THE SCIOTO VALLEY CHORUS! WOOOO HOOOOOO!!!! http://www.sweetadelineintl.org/scioto.cfm
Are they cute or what??? You can listen to them here: http://www.box.net/shared/yuzyk2pn95
A bunch of us headed over to The Boundry afterward for some food and I ended up parking my booty down with the two chattiest Cathies I know, my darling friends Rina Vartanian Melius and Cyndie Hunter Luke. And Cyndie's hubby, who was a REALLY good sport letting us chickens cluck away about stuff he couldn't follow for two hours. There were people there I wish I'd had more of a chance to visit with, but that of course, is the nature of the beast. At least I knew I'd been able to hug each and every one if nothing else. Btw...get the sliders. Ohmigod soooooooooooo good!
Sunday comes around and I am wiped. out. But alas, no rest for the weary! Today is a work day...I'm coaching starting at 3pm! But first, I forced myself out of bed in time to meet a few Belmontians for lunch at a place called Brick Tops on West End. Bleu Cheeseburger? Deeeeeeeeeelish!!! Even if I had to inhale it and found it sitting like a rock in my stomach the rest of the day. Then I raced off to Jamie's studio and coached four wonderful voice students back to back. Seriously, all four very talented and delightful to teach. I hope they enjoyed it as well. Next I squeezed in some "sibling time" with besties Caroline and (bass player) Keith. The three of us started college together in upstate New York and somehow all ended up in Nashville at some point, till I defected. I am so glad I got some time with them; they are family. THEN I met up with Chris and my friend Matty for some karaoke. Matty and I met at BMI in Nashville (where we both worked) and he came to L.A. before I did. Now he's back in Nashville. And Matty loves to sing. And so does Chris. So does Darci, but Darci sounds like a truck-drivin' tranny at this point. And guess what? SMOKE-FILLED ROOM, YAY! It was still fun, though. I was stunned at how many GREAT singers got up. I mean GREAT. And barely a country song in the bunch! Blue Gene's on Church Street.
Monday...dying. Tried to meet my friend Kim for lunch at Pancake Pantry but I couldn't get my butt moving fast enough, ended up running late and she had to get back to the office (booooooo, day jobs! I'm sorry Kim! Next trip you are priority one!). Fortunately Matty was planning to meet us too, so I still got to have to one-on-one with him AND the best pancakes in the world! Although, I'd have gone alone if I'd had to. The Pantry is really the only MUST GO place left for me in Nashville, as my other faves have since closed (RIP, my beloved Cooker). If ever you find yourself in Nashville...go to Pancake Pantry. Don't merely consider it, just do it. Plan on it. Plan AROUND it. It's that good.
And that's not to say it's the only good place to eat in Nashville. Heavens, no. If there's anything everyone can agree on about that city is that the eats are top notch. Comfort food with a capital K! It's just that many of my personal faves are no longer. *sniff*
Monday evening I was treated to a lovely home-cooked meal by the Mullett family. I had yet to meet their children, though I had sent them both "Aunt Darci Loves Me" onesies upon their births. They were so sweet, giving me lots of hugs and kisses throughout the evening and not at all listening to Mommy or Daddy when they were told to go to bed cuz they wanted to keep giving me hugs and kisses. This suited me just fine, because I had at that point been a WHOLE WEEK without any sugar from my shmoos and I was feeling rather bereft. It was a delightful evening with people I adore. The kind of Christians you WANT to know. I know some of my left coasters will scoff at that suggestion, but I swear they're out there and Eric and Angie are two of them. ;-)
Tuesday morning the 20th. Shower, pack up, last cup of coffee and pumpkin muffin in Nashville (Mary had hand-washed the mug with the smiley face on it and left it out for me, no doubt because I mentioned in passing that I liked it - that's how she is. I did not appreciate this woman like I should have when we worked together. But then again, I didn't appreciate ANYTHING back then, bitter little monster that I was...but I digress). Drive through the rolling, lush, green hills to the airport. Drop off cutesy little Honda Accent. Buh bye, Accent. I'll miss you. Breathe in the fresh, smog-free air one last time. Buh bye, fresh air. My sinuses will miss you (and oh how they do). Squash my badonkadonk on the plane, in an aisle seat where I cannot wistfully watch Tennessee slowly miniaturize upon take off. I'm glad of that. Twelve hours later, I am finally back in L.A.
It was an amazing trip at a time when it couldn't financially have been any worse for me to go away for a week. God packed that bar with people the night of the show and provided four voice students in a town I have no name as a coach in. I barely spent a dime the entire time I was there. Sold a few CDs, even. Had a wonderful time laughing with old friends and being reminded that I really kinda should actually be a front person more often. Reminded that I'm loved for ME and not what I can do for someone or how I look. It was a beautiful thing to be so heartily welcomed home.
I came back to L.A. revitalized, recharged and with a fire lit under my ass, but also a little melancholy and wondering if I had made a grave mistake almost nine years ago. Then I got over myself. I'd be a fool to think I'd have 100 people at every show every time and be able to have such lovely times with my friends on a consistent basis. Half of them hired babysitters or left the kids home with a spouse for that one night! I'd be starting my career from scratch - yet again, singing for pennies or nothing (cuz that's how it works in that town) and putting myself as a vocal coach in direct competition with two dear friends. Reality check. One blissful, absolutely over-the-top week would not overshadow my natural practicality. I am still, after all, a New Yorker.
So I took this last week to take a deep breath, to get back with my students, have a day with my shmoos and their mom, and to clean out my home. I filled my fridge with fruits, veggies and food I have to prepare with my own hands (painstakingly selected from the 99 Cent store, cuz ya gotta be careful there. And okay I bought one thing of cookie dough, don't expect miracles). Clutter does not serve me. Dust does not serve me. Processed microwaveable crap food does not serve me. When my house is in order, my life falls into order. When I have room to move, breathe, meditate, create and be thankful, then my life falls into order. When my life falls into order, opportunities knock at my door. I know this much: I need to travel more. I need to sing and coach in other cities besides L.A. I need to share what I know and what I do with others who will appreciate it, live bigger than my perceived obstacles and stop making my world so very, very small. L.A. is home base. I am meant to be here. At least until I decide where my NEXT work trip is, anyway. This little light of mine...
Thank you, Nashville. You will always be home.
