Musician's Widow

If you’d asked me before this weekend if I was afraid to go on a long ride on the back of a bike, I’d have probably not given you much of an answer. Or, I’d have given you a much longer answer than you wanted.

I’m not afraid. Its just not high on my list of things to do. As in, not even on my bucket list to be knocked off it.

HOWEVER.

I married a man who happens to love motorcycles. Who has had bad accidents on them, and yet still wants to get right back on. There’s something admirable about that… not letting anything stop him from doing something he loves.

Not even a wife who practically wanted to burst into tears over plans to go riding yesterday. Because that “just not interested” turned out to be, “Scared to death.”

When a friend offered us his bike for the afternoon, my husband became more excited than anyone’s kids after Halloween, staring at a big bowl of candy. I couldn’t not go. I couldn’t deny him this excitement. He wanted to share this big part of himself with me, and I appreciated that more than I could share under the quivering, shaking, terrified child I became.

We went to pick up the bike. We got bundled up (since even though it was upper 60s, it would be chilly on the bike), my husband plopped a helmet on my head and… I swung a leg over and had a death grip on my husband as we took off.

We hooked up with some friends to go riding together, and off we went hitting back roads around Nashville. It took awhile, but I slowly released the death grip I had on Hubby’s jacket. I even got confident enough to dig out my phone and take a few photos.

Half-way through our travels, we stopped to have a light lunch together. Fighting daylight, we didn’t linger long before we took off again. Getting back on the bike, I figured out a more comfortable way to sit, and my confidence went even higher.

As the sun started to set (darn time change), it started to get chilly. We stopped to stretch our legs for a moment and come up with a plan. We headed for a local bar for a post-ride drink before calling it a night.

I faced a fear, and I conquered it. I have to thank my husband for being so adamant we were going, despite my fears. I didn’t fall off. We didn’t crash. We only  had ONE vehicle ignore a Yield sign and pull out in front of us — but then, that happens ALL THE TIME here, so it was just annoying versus scary. I didn’t freeze. And… dare I say it? I had fun.

Yes. I had fun. There. I said it.

I. Had. Fun.

And I will be happy to do it again sometime.

This summer, we sold my husband’s truck, because we needed the money and we weren’t using it anyway. In the back of my mind, my only fear in letting go of our second vehicle was ice and snow. See… growing up in Texas, I never had to deal with it. Any time I have been in ice and snow, someone else always drove, and I was okay with that.

However, the fear remained leading into winter. Would I have to drive in bad conditions to pick my husband up from the bus one day?

Last night, I got the answer I didn’t want: Yes.

All day, I dreaded the drive to pick up my husband from the bus. Fear. Dread. I didn’t have a choice whatsoever. I had to pick him up. I had to push past my fear and the boundaries I had set in place years ago.

I always said, “At least I know I can’t drive in snow and ice, so I don’t!” when they’d report on accidents. All day, I’d read how the Nashville area had become one big sheet of ice. Accidents everywhere. My fear increased. I forced myself to look at how twice as many cars were getting through okay. I kept reminding myself that for every one car wrecked, at least four more made it through okay. I read advice online from friends and experts on how to drive in winter conditions. I equally wanted it over as much as I wanted the time to never come.

My husband called me as they entered Tennessee. I figured it gave me a good hour over what it usually takes to get to where they meet the bus. I grabbed my stuff, got in my truck, and I prayed. I have have even got a little overwhelmed with my nervousness before I ever put my truck into reverse to back out of the garage.

I went, though. I had to. I backed out into my snow covered drive way, onto my snow covered street, and I set out. Slow and steady. Brakes were not my friend, I kept reminding myself. I set up my navigator so I could watch the miles tick off as I inched closer to my destination. A low tire pressure warning appeared, and I felt my stomach clinch. I prayed some more.

It took me a little over an hour, but I made it. I hit my exit to where I meet the bus, and I realized I was completely tensed up, needed to pee, and my stomach growled. In my nervousness, I’d forgotten to eat for hours. I pulled into the Mapco for a quick pee break, some hot chocolate, and a Christmas tree snack cake.

As I went out to the truck, I was surprised (and a little giddy!) to see the bus pulling in to the parking lot. I waved like a mad woman, and my husband, who was driving, honked at me. I made my way over the bus, feeling extremely proud of myself. I made it! I did it! I drove in snow and ice! And I didn’t even skid out a little bit! I DID IT! I thanked silent everyone who gave me advice, and my guardian angels that were looking out for me.

Proud of myself as I was, I happily handed the driver’s seat over to my Oregon-born husband to get us home. I am still not going to be in any hurry to get out in winter weather… but the fear will be just a little less next time. I’ve proven to myself that I can do it. And I have to admit (no pun intended) that is REALLY cool.

A very happy sight for me! I made it to the bus!

Telephone phobia (telephonophobia, telephobia) is reluctance or fear of making or taking phone calls, literally, “fear of telephone”. (From Wikipedia)

Yup. That’s me. You’d be surprised how hard I have to psych myself up to make a phone call. I am not as bad about taking phone calls, but there’s that issue, too. I have to REALLY know the person on the other end of the line to be okay with talking on the phone in general.

I did a Google search for “fear of making a phone call” figuring I wouldn’t find anything. Much to my surprise, there are a lot of web-sites out there about it! Even some self-help sites to help people get over it. Suddenly, I don’t feel so weird to be like this.

The invention of the Internet and text messaging was made for someone like me. In fact I wonder if the inventors of the Internet were fellow telephonophobics. And text messaging is like a blessing. I’m never without my cell phone specifically because text messaging rocks so hard. I wish I could text for everything. I imagine some things would go like this:

Me to doctors office: “Hey, I need an appointment. What do you have?”
Doc: “How is Friday at 11. Be here by 10:45.”
Me: “Cool. I’m there. Thanks!”

Or maybe:

Me to restaurant: “What are your hours?”
Restaurant: “11am to 2 pm”
Me: “I need a reservation for 4 at 6 pm. Name, Musicians Widow.”
Restaurant: “Gotcha! See you then!”

Yeah… you can give your cell number to vendors and let them text you specials, etc. That’s not the kind of thing I am talking about (and its also something I steadfastly refuse to do). No, I mean the things that are two minute conversations and not a big deal…

…BUT ARE A BIG DEAL TO ME.

The last time I had a doctor’s appointment, it took me ten minutes to talk myself into dialing the number. That is not a lie or exaggeration! If I make a call and my husband or my parents are around, I’ll quiz them for a long time after I hang up as to, “Did I do okay?”

Like I said, I don’t let my “phobia” hold me back (much), but its definitely something I want to work on and totally rid myself of having. Or, if I don’t rid myself of it, I was to at least take my psych-up-time down to 30 seconds versus 10 minutes.

Any words of wisdom out there? Anyone have any advise? Or… better yet… does anyone else deal with this, too? Talk to me! (Just don’t call me… ha!)

This morning, as my husband and I were on a nice drive through the country, a car started to tailgate us. My husband commented that they needed to back off, and we were frustrated at how they were driving. It’s not like we could do anything on a two lane road with a car in front of us, but still the girl stayed right on our back bumper.

We turned; she turned. We stopped at a stop sign, then went when it was clear. She, however, cruised right through it behind us. We finally opened up to a four-lane and were glad she’d be passing. She didn’t get in any hurry to pass, though. We were slowing down to enter a parking lot when she finally cruised past.

That was when I saw it. Right there in the middle of her back window. A Longhorn sticker.

I have a Former Student sticker for Texas A&M on my back window.

*sigh*

This is not the first time I’ve had a Longhorn tailgate me (which is amusing considering that I’ve never been known to be “slow.”) I’ve had a Longhorn heckle me in bumper to bumper traffic through an open window. When in college, I even had someone try to run me off the road, flashing a horns symbol at me as I tried not to go into the ditch and hit a road sign.

At the heart of it all, these events scare me even more than they anger me.

Seriously, I am the first to say Texas is a good school. I respect the school and the education people get there. The rivalry, for me, generally exists on the field. And as I said in a previous entry, I’ve always viewed that particular rivalry as one that has an undertone of respect (unlike other rivalries).

Sadly, you do have those on both sides that fail to remember that, and therein lies my fear. Its to those people, I plead… no matter what, keep it off the highway. A school rivalry is NOT worth someone’s life — be it you, your rival or an innocent bystander. We all put stickers on our vehicles to personalize them, to show allegiance to our schools, organizations, businesses, politics, etc. They are not there to be used as a target. Don’t tailgate, heckle, cut-off, or try to sideswipe someone because of their school allegiance. That’s dangerous and has potential consequences that are bigger than any rivalry.

So to the young woman who chose to tailgate us on the way home… grow up. We’re not even in Texas. We’re not playing today. I have nothing against you personally. I actually respect your school (just not the actions of people like, well, you.) And, at the end of it all, my vehicle is over twice as big as yours. If you had rear ended us in a sudden stop situation, I would have gotten out of my truck and run over to see if you were okay.

Then (assuming you were) I’d slap you upside the head for hurting my truck. Because, really, that would piss me off. A lot. A lot more than any rivalry. Because seriously… this crap does not belong on the highway. Leave it on the football field. ‘Kay?

Kay.

Thanks.

Two nights ago, my husband played at Big Valley Jamboree in Camrose, Alberta, Canada. This in and of itself is pretty mundane. Tonight, though, its noteworthy as today a storm hit the festival and the main stage collapsed. As of right now, one has been confirmed with 60 others hurt. Billy Currington was finishing his set when it happened.

When I heard the news, I was literally in shock for a moment. Because on certain levels you really think it just can’t… won’t… happen.

How many times has my husband told me about their being in tornado watches and warnings. Trying to outrun storms in the bus. Etc. And every time they seem to get out unscathed. You slowly start to build this feeling of invincibility. Then… it does happen. The storm hits. And even though my husband wasn’t there tonight, it still hit far too close to home. It could have very easily been him scrambling off that stage. I had to hear his voice after wards.

Beyond that, though, the music community (especially the Nashville music community) really is like a family. Think of it kind of like a family tree, with all these little families making it up. And a branch of that tree suffered a very close call tonight. I worry for them all out there, and I send a prayer up that they all make it back home to their families safely every run.

Sidebar: I also find myself thinking about gear and equipment. This would have been a good time to be using backline, no? haha  Not a time to laugh, but I admit, the thought crossed my mind. For musicians, their equipment is their livelihood… its like a computer is to a data entry specialist. They need it to do their jobs. Stage collapse can spell being sidelined in your line of work if your equipment is damaged in the event.

Like me, I’m sure there was that element of belief in everyone affected today that it just can’t happen. I guess this proved… it can and does happen. You just never know…

Article on the event:  http://www.edmontonsun.com/news/alberta/2009/08/01/10337516.html

WHEW! It’s been so long since I posted last. So much has gone on I’ve had to let this fall by the wayside for awhile.

My husband’s job has had him out on the road three times as much as he’s been home. I have to admit, its nice to not have to stress over bills as much now. I miss him like mad when he’s gone, but his time at home is extra sweet.

His being gone, though, can feed into some of my fears. I worry what I’d do if I had an emergency sometimes. I know I have a lot of friends I can call on, plus, my parents are only a two hour plane ride away. Still, I worry that something might happen and he not find out about it “in time.” I wonder to myself what all the possibilities are if that were to happen. I don’t dwell on it all the time, but it’s something that pops up now and then. Especially depending on what my frame of mind is on a given day. It’s not a fun thing to think about, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to prepare for anything.

Now, though, I have lots of other things on my mind. We’re moving into a house in a month, which I am ECSTATIC to be doing. No more apartment life. Our first home. It’s such a sweet, sweet thing. I have a new focus on moving keeping me busy.

It’s football season. I love fall, and I am a total football junkie. So, I am keeping busy with the local club of alumni from my college, and we’ve been getting the club active again. One of the things we are doing is football parties. Gotta love those. What better way to spend a Saturday alone than to catch up with fellow former students to cheer your team on to a win?

Finally, though, we’re going on a much needed vacation soon. My husband has a decent break in his schedule, and we’ll go visit his family. We’re SO excited to do this, and I am counting down the days. Not to mention packing and getting things in order to go!

I work best late at night, though, thanks to my husband’s schedule. I have become a total night owl, usually not going to bed until the sun is coming up. One bonus of having a house… I can vacuum any time I want! However, I get done what I can when I can. (Hence why its 1:30 AM and I am just now posting to this blog.)

I admittedly live an “abnormal” life… but its normal to me. And I love it.