Musician's Widow

I live a few blocks away from a high school, and in the fall we can listen to football games being played from our backyard. Tonight, I have my windows open and I’m listening to a combination of the football announcer, the band playing and crickets chirping. Guy Fieri and Diners, Drive-ins and Dives flashes across my almost-muted TV.

This is a fairly typical Friday night for me these days, but back in high school Fridays made for long days.

I was in the marching band, first as a flute player then later as a member of the colorguard. Friday nights meant game time. There’s a reason why all the high school football movies are set in Texas. There’s a rabid love for the game at the high school level that I just truly don’t think anywhere else can duplicate. There’s a passion and a love for football across the country, but its definitely amped up a notch or two down there.

In my hometown, I think we lived for football season. It’s when the town came to life. It’s when there was a little extra pride to be found in everyone’s eyes.

As I said, Fridays were long days for me during football season. I lived in the country, which meant when school let out, I almost never went home between school and game-time. There just wasn’t enough time to make it a worthwhile trip. Many times I would leave home around 7:30 am, and I’d not return home until well after midnight (if it was an away game). But that didn’t matter. I ran on an adrenaline that no cup of coffee could ever recreate.

It was all about the lights and the field. It was about the war that was going to be waged goal line to goal line. It was the sound of the band and the smell of the popcorn. It was the little kids watching with glowing eyes; some day they’d play the game or be the cheerleader. It’s the socializing side of the night, when friends would get together and gossip about their week. It was the parents watching with pride (and the mothers watching with a little big of fear). It was the sound of the announcer’s voice booming over the speakers.

“TOUCHDOWN!!”

Eventually, though, we all graduate. We play our last game. March our last half-time show. Cheer our last cheer. Sing our school song with arms around our classmates for the last time. We close that chapter of our lives and we all move on…

…until we hear that announcer across a quiet late-summer/early-fall night. We hear the horns and the drums and the clash of helmets. And if only for three or hour hours we go back to those high school glory-days and let today’s worries and stresses get washed away.

It’s the magic of the Friday night lights, and I, for one, am glad they are back.

Last week was my first edition of “Show stories” and after careful consideration, I’ve decided to make this a weekly contribution to my blog.  Landing either Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on how things fall for me.

This week, I bring you a tale from long before my husband and I were even dating. We’d been friends for years before we made that step, so I have many stories pre-relationship.

September 2003 -- Four friends go on a road trip weekend

So my tale today comes from 2003, when four friends set out on a weekend of fun and live music.

Oh how I stressed prior to this trip. I felt like our lives were in my hands, so I planned and planned. I had a full itinerary printed out with maps and times and phone numbers. Pre-GPS days, MapQuest was a savior (not to mention my Texas Road Atlas!)

I was our road manager for the weekend. And bus driver.

My three best girlfriends (all of whom would later be my bridesmaids) and I jumped in my truck and we took off on a weekend trip that took us to Brownwood, TX then up to Sulphur Springs, TX. Round trip for the weekend was around 650 miles.

We took off out of my hometown on an adventure that I still consider one of my favorite memories of all time. We laughed until our sides hurt at times. We have in-jokes that came out of that trip that still make us laugh to this day.

My friends got to experience what I still call, “Waitin’ on Craig” at shows. I’ve learned over the years that the musician’s life on the road is filled with, “Hurry, hurry, hurry! Okay now wait around for awhile. Now hurry, hurry, hurry!” And that’s something I experienced years in advance without even realizing it. We would get to hang out for awhile, only to have him disappear for long periods of time.

We did get the royal treatment with All Access passes all weekend. Our second show was actually sold out, and we spent it watching from side-stage. We were able to park behind security at both shows, and both netted us some good food.

The first show was a fair, and our host for the night (my now-husband) treated us to a deep-friend s’mores. Yes it was a gooey mess, but as I recall its still one of the most amazing things I’ve ever put in my mouth. I kind of want one right now, actually.

Dunking my class ring... topping off the road trip weekend!

The second show, we all got to take some of the band’s catering back to the hotel with us. A steak dinner that was also amazing. (We spent a long time looking for a six-pack of beer on our way back to our Dallas-hotel, only to learn how much at that area of Texas is dry. My friend who is today an Assistant District Attorney even asked a pair of cops how far we had to drive to get a beer. Insert hysterical laughter here, as well as the realization that it just wasn’t worth it to keep looking.)

I remember in-between shows was a 2 hour drive from Brownwood to Dallas, in which I did successfully miss my exit. Thankfully my co-pilot knows how to read a map and she got us back on track using that handy-dandy Texas Atlas I used to carry with me at all times.  I had hoped to follow the bus to avoid such an issue, but when I realized that waiting for them would probably mean not getting to our hotel until around 6 AM, I decided we’d chance it on our own. We were big girls, and we made it just fine.

A highlight of that weekend was dunking my class ring. I’d gotten it about a month before, but I had yet to participate in the Texas A&M tradition of ring-dunk. I did so the night of the second show. In a blue Dixie cup. Because I am high class like that.

By the way, both shows were great. But the things I remember most are the events surrounding those shows. A fun weekend with the girls, and getting to see my musician friend… getting to have a little taste of the traveling musician’s life.

Two shows. Two nights. 650 miles. Precious, precious memories.

As a kid, summer meant school was out, and thus it was always my favorite season back then. Today, though, I appreciate it for vastly different reasons.

I've got my flip flops on... Fall is without hesitation, my favorite season. But summer takes a close second.

First off, summer is a blessing and a curse being married to a musician. It’s a time when my husband is gone the most on the road, as summer equates to “the touring season.” So its a beautiful time of year that I’m left trying to find ways to entertain myself alone a good chunk of the time. However, its also the feast part of feast-or-famine, if you know what  I mean.

That being said, though, there is a magic to summer — whether you are alone or with your significant other — that will take you over if you let it.

I think that what summer pretty much equates to for me is a chance to relax. Even as I may be super busy with any number of things, summer just seems to bring this want and need to let it all go. Relax. The beauty of it is that even the most simple acts can equate to relaxation.

I was never “a boat person” until a couple of years ago. Which is when I discovered there is a lot of fun to be had sitting on a boat, just floating on a lake with friends. It gets you away from the computer, the traffic, and some of your responsibilities for a few hours. Its a chance to reset for awhile.

My husband and I don’t have a boat, so we’re at the mercy of our friends as to when we get to go out on the lake. However, it doesn’t stop us from packing up a picnic lunch and sitting out by lake for awhile. It’s not the same, but its close enough for me!

We enjoy taking drives through the country. Recently, I’ve noticed a major increase in the number of fireflies. At the drive-in theater that we went to last week, fireflies twinkled all through the air around us as we watched a movie and munched on popcorn. There’s something about fireflies that, even as an adult, makes me believe in magic. (Adds an element of romance as well!)

Summer sunsets are the best

The humidity recently has made the air thick and uncomfortable, chasing me indoors to my air conditioning. But then nights like tonight will come, when a gentle breeze feels almost cool in the summer heat. Crickets chirp a song of summer, one that lulls me to a deep relaxation.  I could sit for hours doing nothing but listening to nature, feeling the breeze, and smelling whatever scents come my way. Flowers in the garden or fresh cut grass. Perhaps someone just made barbecue.

Its all about letting that summer magic once again do its thing.

Growing up in Texas, summer always meant long strings of 100+ temperatures. Misery had a whole new definition on days like that. Yet as night fell, the warmth stayed but the sting of the sun’s rays disappeared. You’d be beckoned outside.

July 4th weekend called for watermelons on the back deck. Or we’d randomly go visit my grandparents who would sometimes be sitting outside in lawn chairs. We’d join them, and I’d enjoy it. But as a child I didn’t understand what I understand now. The summer heat’s misery, in those times, would give way to a little slice of heaven and peacefulness.

We’ve entered July, and we’re quickly marching towards summer’s peak. I’ve been guilty of letting work and technology steal some of summer’s magic away from me. I aim to correct that as much as possible. Enjoy summer. Let it bring its relaxing nature to me. I don’t want to look back this fall (as I did last fall) and ask myself where summer went. I don’t want to miss this.

When I was a kid, our house was on an acre and a half of land. Dad would, of course, have to mow the lawn with a riding lawn mower.

I still remember one of the first times I got to mow the lawn. Yes, I said “got to” as opposed to “had to” because it was something I really wanted to do! I wanted to help out. It made me feel grown up. It felt good to be able to look back and see what I had done.

I also misjudged how much room it took to turn the mower, and I ran into the side of the house. It was a lawn mower, and I was hardly moving. No damage or injury other than my pride. But its one of those mental images that forever resides in my mental photo album. One I laugh at now. But at the time, I remember feeling a little silly having to go get help…

My husband working on our lawn.

(Here I am at 29, and I still have to go get help sometimes while doing lawn work. My husband, thankfully, has wonderful patience with my ability to kill my trimmer repeatedly and my subsequent, “I know what I am doing!” indignation to any advice he has about how to NOT kill said trimmer.)

I enjoy doing lawn work. Unfortunately, I often get a sinus infection (something I chronically fight), so a lot of times I’ll bow out of participating when my husband goes out to mow. That, or its just too darn hot! Or I am on a deadline.  But some days, I just want to get outside and work in my yard!

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had to invest in a new trimmer. It was one of those unexpected expenses that a person is never truly prepared to handle, but it is cheaper to handle it right then, than it is to wait. So, you juggle the finances and you squeeze out the funds.

We picked out one that I could use easily myself, and its allowed me to be outside working right along side my husband, making our house look nice and neat.

I always think about something he said the day we bought it, and that was that he had wanted his own yard to have to mow for years. So, he’s not going to complain about the work or the expense, because it’s a blessing just to have a lawn in the first place.

One afternoon this week, we went on a walk through our neighborhood. We commented repeatedly about landscaping our neighbors had done. We’d point out things we liked. We’d make note of things we didn’t like as much. We’ve been doing battle with a horrible case of bagworms, so my husband was really on the watch for those in other’s trees. It’s as if we’ve had a whole renewal of interest in our OWN yard!

Temperatures here have finally become more manageable for awhile, so yesterday we attacked the yard. He mowed while I trimmed. He trimmed trees while I pressure washed the patio. We ended the day discussing other things we want to do soon.

It’s hard work. I’ve never been one you’d accuse of having a green thumb, but its something I do enjoy. It has its hidden expenses. I might a sinus infection from the pollens it kicks up. I have a little catch in my back, and my shoulders will be sore for a couple days.  But at the end of it all, I can look around and see what we accomplished. And I end up remembering to be thankful… at least I have a lawn to mow.

This last weekend, I went to two shows to spend the weekend with my husband. He had shows in Katy, TX and then Poteet, TX — about three hours apart from each other — and a no-brainer for me to attend.

Now, before I continue with my story, two things I want to note:

1) No, I don’t “go on the road with the band.” I get that question a lot, and the short and simple answer is, “No.” Now, I know there ARE some acts that do take musician’s wives on the road with them, atleast here and there. However, I’ve not really done it myself.

I’ve hitched a ride on the bus twice. Once when I needed to go to Texas and my husband had a show close to my destination. So instead of flying, the artist he was with at the time allowed me to catch a ride with them down. Then another time I caught a ride to Nashville from Texas. I did get to go to Hawaii for a week with my husband on a gig,too. But past that, if I am at a show, its because I’ve taken myself there, and I’m taking myself back home.

2) This is the second time I’ve done a “two show weekend” to see my husband. Only the last time was about six years ago, and we weren’t even flirting with dating. Ironically, the travel time between those two shows was almost twice the time between the shows this last weekend.

So all that said, back to my story. I went to the show in Katy, and it was the first time I’d seen my husband in a month. I was beyond excited, and I made sure to enjoy every minute of the weekend.

A bonus of the trip is the fact that I genuinely really just love the group my husband is with right now. So I was also excited to get to hang out with these guys that I consider friends myself, and the really cool thing? They were SO aware and accommodating of the fact that my husband and I hadn’t seen each other in so long. A fact that did not go unnoticed and unappreciated.

At the show that first night, I was standing side stage, and when the band was introduced, I was introduced right along with my husband! It’s happened about three times now, and its not something I ever expect to have happen. In fact the first time, I turned bright red (we had JUST gotten engaged that time) and almost ran out of the showroom! I didn’t know how to react! This time, when I was told to, “Wave to the crowd!” I did with a giggle and… what can I say?? It was REALLY COOL!! REALLY cool. I am pretty sure I was beaming. LOL! How can you NOT be blown away by that and get, well, a thrill?

After the show, some fans went and got all the band members to sign a t-shirt… and they asked ME to sign it. “We’ll make you famous too!” they said.

I declined at first, but at their insistence, I signed below my husband’s signature. Bizarre much? Yeah. Definitely. And absolutely something I’m amused about, but let’s face it. I’m certainly not going to let it go to my head, and at the end of the day the only person I care to get recognition from is my husband. I’m his biggest fan, and I have this wonderful fulfillment knowing he’s mine.

THAT is all that matters.

I doubt many people know that my husband and I dated long distance literally until about three months before our wedding.

I lived in Central Texas. He lived in Nashville, TN. Our “dating” days (which if you ask me when they began, I wouldn’t be able to tell you) existed in the form of phone calls, late night AIM chat-sessions, and occasional trips between Texas and Tennessee. I scoured his tour schedule for shows within about a six-hour driving radius of where I was.

However, its the long-distance nature of how our relationship started that I credit with why we are both so cool about either of us “going on the road for work” for an extended period of time. It’s just as normal (if not more normal!) as being under the same roof!

Recently, we found ourselves very much in old roles. I’m in Texas working with my parents through tax season, and thus I am in my old bedroom. And I found myself chatting with  my husband on the phone as he drove tour bus. We BOTH commented how it brought back memories.

See, I used to stay up all night long with him on the phone while he drove bus through the night. He has his CDL and is a co-driver on long trips. However, for a period of time, he was the only driver for the artist he worked for. So, he’d drive all night, get to the town they would be doing a show. He’d sleep a few hours. Get up to set up his gear and soundcheck. Eat a little. Grab some more sleep. Get up to do the show. Tear down, load up and head to the next town. To help keep him awake, I’d stay on the phone with him for hours on end.

I don’t know, now, how either of us did it. How he would run on such little sleep, and how I’d stay up all night, get a couple hours of sleep, then go to work. Naps were a friend, I suppose. However, sleep just didn’t seem to matter as much.

I got to see so much of the United States through the phone! Some nights we’d have nothing to talk about other than what he was seeing in front of him on the road. Road construction. Landmarks. He’d have me check the weather ahead if he saw lightening in the distance. I got him lost in Chicago once, trying to be his navigator (because this was before everyone had a GPS). We got good at handling dropped calls when he’d go through a patch of highway that had no cell service.

It was in those long late night hours, when he was chasing headlights and I was laying in the dark in a room lit only by a computer monitor or cell phone screen, that we went from being just good buddies to discovering there was something deeper there.

Today, he has a GPS and doesn’t need me to navigate, but I like to follow along using Google maps. Sometimes I still look ahead for a Pilot or Flying J for him. I’ll still check the weather once in awhile. But mostly, we could be in the truck together. Sitting at times in silence, just enjoying knowing that we’re each on the other end of the line.

Through those years of phone calls and IM chats, we’ve developed an awesome level of communication. We can read each others moods in a word much of the time. We’ve come a long way, but its on that solid base that we build our life. Going back to that role — me in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, again in a dark room lit by a computer monitor, and him chasing headlights taking his turn behind the wheel — reminds us of where we started, and it just seems to make us more solid.

I think all too often, married couples forget what its like to be “new.” They forget what its like to be in that “dating” roll again. Late night chats by phone? Those were dates for me and my husband back in the day. It was neat to go back to that style of dating. I wouldn’t ever want to go back to it full-time! But it made me smile, and it once again made me appreciate us and the life we have.

Today was definitely a day of “getting to my roots.”

Inscription on Albritton Clock Tower on the Texas A&M Campus

First, I went out to the cemetery where all my grandparents are buried, and its at the church where my husband and I got married. This location deserves a blog post all by itself, but suffice to say that you can’t get much deeper into my roots than this location!

Then, I visited Texas A&M University. I took some time to walk around a little bit of the campus and take pictures. I took in memories of days now-fairly-long past, and I observed the current student population a little. I am forever amazed by how little changes in light of how much things have changed.

I ran into the same family a couple times as I strolled around. It was a young man with his parents and a couple siblings. He was giving his family a tour of campus, and if I were guessing I’d have said he had to be a Freshman. Perhaps even a Senior checking out the campus he’d be attending in the fall.

I could only hear snippets of their conversations, and really it was none of my business. However, the young mans demeanor amused me. His body language screamed out that he would rather be doing anything other than what he was doing in that moment. Telling his family about traditions, etc. seemed to be almost an annoyance. It was as if they should know these things already.

I shook my head, and deep down I wanted to pull him aside. I wanted to convey to him that I’m over 5 years out of college now, and there are times I wish I’d taken more time to appreciate my campus. I was blessed with parents who took (and continue to take) an active roll in my life. He needs to be thankful to have his family there with him. Many would give anything to have that time. And 10 years from today, he’ll wish he had this time back. I could promise him that.

At another point in my tour, I couldn’t help but overhear another young man fretting over the coming summer. Should he stay in College Station, or should he go home to Dallas?

He was going through the pros and cons of both to his friend, and I have to admit, I was impressed at how he was thinking it through. But I felt the urge to go to him and tell him that neither choice was wrong. He is blessed to be in a time in his life that everything is a chance to grow and experience life. In a weird way, being a student gives him a safety net that “the real world” will not offer in the next few years. Enjoy having that problem. Revel in having the options ahead of you, and know that neither one is wrong. Both will offer lessons in life. Both will find you wiser come Fall Semester.

Its a funny thing about taking some time to visit your roots. You find yourself studying the lessons you’ve learned along the way. You realize you wish someone would have told you these lessons ahead of time. And yet within that, you find its learning these lessons on your own that have made them stick.

So even as I wanted to “offer words of advice” it was best I kept my musings to myself. Those lessons were for me to learn my own way, and for these current students to learn their own way as well. And some day, they may take their own stroll on campus and have the urge to share their own advice, but they, too, won’t.