So, I started out taking notes on my phone, but between exhaustion and Jameson’s, no way my fingers were going to keep up with my brain.
We spent the weekend in Greenville, Tennessee. Randy and I were fortunate to spend time with The Madisons. If you haven’t heard their music yet, do yourself a favor and listen. You can download some tracks for free here.
We got horribly lost on our way to hang out with Lizzie Harrah and The Madisons at their studio. Lizzie was kind enough to come fetch us and lead us back to her home which resides in Middle Earth. With all the twists and turns we took, I think it’s possible we might have time travelled a little, too.
I was tired beyond belief when we arrived. On the way there, I made Randy promise that we would leave by 11:00.
Then they started playing and I no longer wanted to leave by 11:00.
I had a show that was all mine. Well, I guess I shared with Randy as well, but it didn’t feel that way. I felt like I was the only one there. I was close enough that with a few short steps from the couch, I could have booped Lizzie on the end of her nose.
There was so much passion that it took my breath away. Not just the drummer, it was all four of them. I sat and watched people who were doing EXACTLY what they want to do. I can’t remember ever seeing that before. At least not up close.
In an instant, I became the Little Match Girl. I was out in the cold staring in at something that was completely unattainable and so attractive that it very nearly felt like an assault. I watched people living in a way that is as foreign to me as Budapest.
I love music. I can’t imagine a life without music, but I don’t really want to make it. I just want to listen. And sing in my car when no one is around. I didn’t covet WHAT they were doing. I coveted their passion. I wanted to feel what it feels like to actually do WHAT I WANT TO DO.
It was by the fourth song that I realized my little phone wasn’t going to work anymore. I needed paper and a pen. I asked Randy to go out to our car to fetch a notebook. I certainly wasn’t going to do it. I fucking heard wolves howling and I’m pretty sure there was at least a dozen coyotes nearby. And then there’s the bear possibility. I also was not sure if Tennessee snakes slept at night, or if they might all be waiting by the car to attack me in the dark.
Randy came back in with a pen and a bottle of bourbon. He forgot the notebook.
I thought about warning him about bear gangs when he headed back out but figured he’d just make fun of me.
If I included everything from my notes, this would be a marathon blog post.Also, it might not be real coherent. Keep in mind, I had travelled for HOURS, it was scorchingly hot outside, I had whiskey and bourbon available to me and it was WAY past my bedtime.
I also drank moonshine. Which has nothing to do with anything, but still. Moonshine. Strawberry moonshine. It was in a mason jar and it appeared that it was filled with kitten brains. I guess strawberries turn white when they sit in alcohol long enough. I have to admit, the brain thing made me falter a little bit..but it didn’t stop me. I got close enough to determine I was not, in fact, about to drink kitten brain juice. Moonshine is surprisingly smooth.
Also, it contributed a bit to the rambling nature of my notes. Kitten brain juice will do that.
Lizzie spoke about when Lee joined their band, she said it felt like slipping on an old pair of Levi’s. She touched her forehead and did a little salute and said “We just moved forward without thinking about it”.
Who gets that? Who gets to move forward without thinking about it? I think and think and overthink until I come all the way around to the beginning and decide, again, that it’s best to be safe.
I’m well into the second half of my life.
If I don’t find my passion now, then when?
I can honestly say that watching them last Friday evening was a great night for Randy and I. We watched them live at Old Mountain Campground on Saturday and it was great. But I kinda felt sorry for everyone else there. I got my own show the night before. I also got a kick to the head.
Part of me would like to NOT feel the way I do. It’s easier to get bogged down in my day to day life and attending to details that in the end, don’t mean shit. But I fucking got kicked in the head. I’m sure if I wait it out, this feeling that I should be doing something else will fade and I’ll attend to my details and continue to spend the second part of the only life I have working at a job I hate.
I hope not, though. This kick in the head is painful. But for a change, it’s almost a welcome pain.
The other thing I learned watching The Madisons?
People who are doing what they want to be doing are SEXY AS FUCK.