I Want To Be Your Sledgehammer

Sledgehammer:

And I think you know by now that I sometimes set my songs months in advance, and then either hope that they align. Or, I make the content fit the lyrics. It’s as simple as that. I believe this is going to be a photo-heavy blog post, because it’s already Friday night, and I’m only starting. My parents are here, I’m fried AF, I’m pretty sure I cried every day this week, and I also have a story to tell. I want to do that now. I want to drop little bombshells and stories in each post. The diary entry style posts are fine enough, but I’m also wondering if I’m the only person on earth still writing them. And I won’t stop, but I do need to ease up sometimes. There are only so many heady heavy posts to write. You all know the drill. You know a bit of what I’m about these days.

It’s been.. heady heavy:

Two years ago, I had a significant postpartum existential crisis. I wondered if I’d ever feel alive again. One year ago, I had a significant shakedown, shakeup of my most important relationship. And, I wondered if I’d ever feel better again. This year, I had a work shakedown, shakeup that made me feel scared, insignificant, and unstable. However, it changed the way I work, and those changes were needed, and will make me better. I don’t know where I stand with any of it, but I do know what I stand for, and I do know I feel better about some things, and have hope for others. So, that’s about that!

The concert:

Last week, I wrote about a Burlington trip I was taking later that day. I was apprehensive about the trip and about being alone. About leaving behind dogs and my uncharacteristically strange job and my kids too. Well, I want to say that it was a peaceful and foliage filled drive. I found out that our good friends were taking Des to New York for the New York State YoYo Contest that very night. I arrived at my hotel room, which was lovely, and then got ready for the two minute walk to the venue. And honestly, nothing beats that. There’s such a power in being walking distance from a safe and solo place, to an exciting and crowded place. I’ll never forget that easy, free feeling.

The story:

I wrote this out on Facebook, and it was succinct and to the point, so I’m going to share that here:

I need to write this out, because I need to remember that it happened. Yesterday afternoon, I drove through beautiful foliage and arrived in Burlington, Vermont. Checked into my hotel room, relished the silence, got ready (which was basically just brushing my hair), and went to the show. I wore sparkles.

My seat was so close to the stage, that the ushers laughed and said, “What kind of royalty are you to get this?” (nothing – it was pure luck by booking a ticket the day they went on sale). I was so close that when JT (one of the Noisemakers) came on stage to check things out, he looked at me and we smiled and waved to each other (the same thing happened with aother Noisemaker – Gill). Edie Brickell’s band: Heavy Makeup came on first and captivated the crowd.

Then Bruce Hornsby and his Noisemakers came on. I was so close that I could hear backstage clapping and see the moment before he came on. I could see Edie standing backstage and watching. See, I don’t need to talk about the show, because that would be 17 other paragraphs.

I need to tell you that after the last song (my favorite – “End of the Innocence”), Bruce walked up to the stage and talked to the front row.

When he got to me he said, “I know you!” And wiggled his fingers. I wiggled my hands back and said, “I know you too.” Then, this morning, before driving home, I drove around Lake Champlain and enjoyed the views. On the ride home, the fog over foliage was otherworldly. I arrived home to my crazy and loud life, but this 24 hours really did happen before that.

Back home looked like this: