Musician's Widow

I flew from Nashville to Austin today; its tax season again. Time for my yearly period of living in Texas more than Tennessee for awhile.

For the first time, I was on a wi-fi available flight. And ohhh how it mocked me. Only $5 to sign on, I clicked that connect link several times. Every time, backing out before making the commitment. I decided to just be happy with being able to watch my flight’s progress on the “welcome screen.”

It wasn’t the money that bothered me. It was the fact that I didn’t want to share my debit card information over an unsecured wi-fi connection. Call me paranoid, but I just didn’t want to do it. So while I stared at my Facebook, blog, Flickr, Pinterest, email, etc. links… mocking me… inviting me to come out and play… I came up with a whole new travel tip.

One of those refillable credit cards. If only I had a card that had a limited amount of funds available to use. I’d have not hesitated to log on and be Facebook chatting with friends from 38,000 ft. Well, if I used Facebook chat. But that’s a whole different blog post for a whole different day. The point is, if anyone snagged that number and “wiped me out,” they wouldn’t get far. A fact that I REALLY like.

So, a new goal is to obtain such a card so that if by some chance my next flight is wi-fi available, I can play online the course of the trip. Use that, too, for purchasing drinks, should I want one. A handy little travel idea that I plan to implement as soon as possible.

I almost made it through NaBloPoMo without missing a day. Almost. I missed yesterday. However, I have a good excuse.

Sunday night, my husband and I hit the road from Texas to Tennessee. I had intended to write about our trip on Monday, since it was 13.5 hours long and surely it would make for a semi-interesting post. We drove from 8:30 pm to 10 am the next morning, successfully running behind the mad Thanksgiving day traffic for the last 12 hours of the drive.

After that many hours on the road, though, my muse was sleeping. Writing just wasn’t going to happen. So I figured I would get some sleep, then write when I got up.

Instead, I slept a lot longer than I meant to, and I hit the floor running. We had invited friends over for the evening, and our house was void of any food other than a couple cans of soup. So it was shower, grocery store, home, and cook.

It was a great choice to have friends over, though. We had SO  much fun just eating frozen pizza and decorating little liquor bottles into Christmas ornaments. It wasn’t until they headed home that I realized I’d missed posting the entire day.

Oh well, I decided. It was okay to miss a day writing about life just to live it for awhile.

I’m sitting on a flight to Austin, TX again. My head leans against the wall of this Southwest Airline plane, and LeeAnn Womack croons to me about Solitary Thinkin’. (FYI – I’m in the music video for this song.)

You’re probably wondering what the title of this post means. I’m getting to it.

Ah… Heidi Newfield now. A dear friend. “Cry Cry (Til the Sun Shines)” I turn it up to hear the B3 sing to me. I smile.

No one around me can hear it. Similarly, if someone spoke to me now, I’d hear nothing. I’m wearing my husband’s back-up pair of E5s.

E-what you might ask. I know I was lost the first time I heard of them. Think super-duper-expensive and high-tech pair of ear buds. Like the ones that come with your iPod.

If you’ve been to a concert, or perhaps have watched live music on tv, you’ve probably seen the musicians and artist wearing headphone/ear buds. They’re called in-ear monitors. They let the musicians hear themselves. Some artists use floor monitors (basically speakers facing them) to hear instead, but a vast majority today use In-ears.

Random side story, I was at a concert when the guy beside me very seriously told me, “They wear those so someone can tell them the words to the songs.” I just nodded and acted like it was brilliant he figured that out, all the while going in my head,”You wouldn’t believe the truth even if I showed you my lammie (backstage pass) to prove I know the REAL story.”

I still remember the first time my husband let me wear his In-ears for awhile. It was long before we even started dating; he stuck them in my ears to hear what he was hearing. I was amazed. The quality was impeccable and I am sure my jaw dropped when he said they cost him $400 new.

He’s used these In-ears for years, but as all things have want to do, they started to just wear out. They have ceased to be the superior quality he needs and expects on stage, and he’s gotten a new pair. (Thankfully this time NOT paying $400.) His old faithful pair are his “just in case” back-ups.

They’ve made many miles with him. Every state in the US. They’ve been to Canada, Turkey, Iceland, Switzerland, Qatar, Japan, South Korea and more.

Last night, as I packed for my trip, I found my iPod ear buds were MIA. I tore through multiple bags to no avail. Dug in jacket pockets. I found $5 but no ear buds. I was facing a 2 hour flight without music.

I plopped on the couch with a pout.

My husband offered me his old E5s.

“No self-respecting wife of a musician should have sub-par ear buds anyway,” he said.

I was giddy!!! This morning he dug into his work-box and carefully packed the old E5s and tucked them in my purse. He has no idea that that gesture meant more to me than if he’d stuck a note in there that said, “I love you.”

So as I carefully put them in my ears and cranked up the iPod, I felt like he was wrapping me up in a big bear hug. I was no longer traveling alone.

Now Exile is singing “Gimme Just One More Chance” and my toes are tapping happily, sipping a cup of tea from Starbucks. Ready, now, to embark on the weeks adventure: my cousin’s wedding…

With gas prices going higher and higher these days, its hard not to cringe when you pull up to the pump. However, my latest cringe at the pump was not to price… it was the fact that I needed to pee.

Enroute to Texas from Tennessee (a 13 hour drive), fuel, food and pee stops are a must.  We often end up fueling based on what station at which we have a credit card to use. This trip: Exxon.

Right around half-way, we were reaching the desperate level for fuel, and I was searching Google Maps for Exxons. However, after 10 pm, the first two we went to were closed. Our last chance before we entered a long span of Interstate nothingness was an Exxon in Benton, AR. I checked and found they would be open until midnight. Fuel. Grab a drink. We needed to pee. It would work out nicely.

We pulled up, and I noted the gas price was “reasonable” and the place well lit. I made note of a very nice looking woman behind the counter, and I suddenly felt very relaxed and comfortable with our stop choice.

As my husband started to fuel, I went in to use restroom. I saw a sign up on the door that said it was closed for cleaning. Huh. Well, we weren’t in that big of a hurry. I could wait a little while.

The woman behind the counter asked if she could help me, and I said I needed to use the restroom. I was informed that, “restrooms close at 9 pm so I don’t have to go clean them again every 5 minutes.” I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell. Instead, I went, “oh ok.” And walked out.

As the cold air hit me, I decided I was angry. And I was reminded again: I needed to GO!

Bathrooms close at 9? No apology? No suggestion where else I could go? Just closed so they don’t have to clean them again? What about customers who NEED to stop? What about customers who just spent…

I told my husband to just stop fueling. I didn’t want to give his place another penny. We were so close to full, though, that stopping didn’t make sense either.

I explained what happened, and my husband was mad too. He went in to inquire, and was told it was what her manager told her to do. It was station policy.

When my husband came back, also irritated, I was just clicking off $61 in fuel.

$61 to be told I couldn’t pee, without apology and without any help as to where to find an open restroom.

We left, and the longer we drove trying to find a restroom, the more upset we got. I put out a scalding review on Google places, as well as Foursquare. NO ONE else should treated as we were.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. The woman has pleasant enough. But the thing that really got us was the lack of sympathy. The lack of service — we were travelers that did not know the area — was what angered us. It can be station policy to close the restrooms, but you can curve the sting by still helping out in some manner.

We eventually found this small privately owned truck stop to use the restroom and get something to drink. I was leery at first, but I discovered some of the cleanest restrooms ever! I was really happy we stopped there! I wish it had been where we fueled, even, because I want to help places that help me.

But, alas, I am left with the frustration of having been denied my need to pee. And that, my friends, is one need that should NOT be denied.

So, dear Exxon in Benton, AR, I will not be back. I doubt you really care, but I do. As does my bladder. I won’t forget.

It happens to all of us at some point, if you ever travel by car… getting stuck in traffic.

I’m currently on a quick little road trip to see my family in Texas. In fact, I write from my phone in the truck. WordPress app for the win!

Don’t worry, I’m not driving and blogging. Promise.

I’m in Northeast Texas on a state highway I’ve never been on before. It’s beautiful! Luckily, storms that were through here today have long moved on… blue skies and puffy white clouds, wide open fields.

This is not where I was supposed to be, though. I usually take the Interstate the whole way. I like to just keep moving. No small towns with Barney and his one bullet and ten stop signs. It’s fast and I can go into auto-pilot on that route.

However, today, we got about half an hour out of Dallas, and it was a parking lot. Our handy dandy smart phones informed us this was due to road construction. No love for TxDOT from me due to this. Especially when you see traffic as far as the eye can see, both ahead of you and behind you.

Oh okay, it was a little amusing until a Barney stopped people from cutting across a closed Interstate on-ramp onto the access road to catch an FM road away from the madness. Then I got annoyed. There seemed no way out. No end in sight. 45 minutes passed, we moved about a mile.

In comes the handy smart phone and a crossover and a state highway. Yay! Now we are moving and enjoying better scenery. Live in the moment and find the positive in the situation.

Stuck in traffic stinks, but it forced us to take the path we’ve never traveled. There is something cool about that.

Read the fine print. We’ve all heard that advice time and time again, but I’m willing to bet we are ALL guilty of not doing it now and then. Most of the time, I read the fine print when something seems too good to be true, and I want to prove to myself I am right. It’s the times I want to believe “too good to be true” IS true that I don’t read it. That, or when I think I already know the fine print.

Within the last few weeks I’ve run into cases where I failed to read the fine print. The first case came out fine, and I think I ultimately ended up making a better decision for my situation than I would have otherwise. The second case… Well…

My husband and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary this week. We celebrated it in the Smoky Mountains area of Tennessee. We’ve made many trips to the Gatlinburg area, and I think its safe to say that its our favorite vacation location.

This past summer, we got signed up for a three day/two night trip to Pigeon Forge through this time share resort company. Go on our trip, sit through their presentation, and receive gift cards to Bass Pro Shops whether we sign up for the timeshare or not. It was that easy.

Too good to be true, right? We should have thought so, but somehow it all made sense. And somehow we missed the “minimum income required” in the fine print.

Fast forward about six months to this week. Excited for our trip, we’d not been out that direction in over a year, and after a stressful few months we figured a pre-paid vacation would be the thing to clear our minds. We arrived at the check-in location, and it was at that time we were given a “questionnaire” and the one that stumped us was “yearly income.”

See, in both of our careers, nailing down a yearly income is a struggle. We both have income from multiple sources through the year, and usually we don’t know how we came out until we file our tax return. It usually ends up being the surprise that we are never really happy with. So, we opted to go fairly middle of the road in our answer. Enough to live comfortably, but low enough to show we’re not exactly able to have that many “fun times and toys.”

Page two comes. First requirement, a minimum income. One check box above the one we’d checked. We looked at each other with alarm, but I ultimately shrugged it off. Its not like we were drastically below that minimum (Literally could have been less than $100 less given the span of income choices) and we WERE starting a whole new year. Surely this wouldn’t be an issue. The final requirement would be that we both attend the presentation, lest our deal be voided and we’d be charged full price for our room instead of the discounted rate. (After all of the events of our trip, I read the fine print and discovered all of this in there. So they did cover their butt there. Its in the fine print, why should they tell you this from the get-go? Right?)

Our room was very nice. It reminded me of a small apartment, and with a full (small) kitchen we were able to avoid eating out that night. I had brought food along to cook, and we spent the whole evening inside from the cold.

The next morning — our actual anniversary — we headed over to the presentation. We checked in, and before long were called to the front desk. “You don’t make the minimum requirement, you can’t take the presentation. We can’t change the original answer you gave. Call this number for more details.”

We wouldn’t be ALLOWED to sit through the presentation? What did this mean for the room rate?

We found out fast it voided everything. No gift cards and the room price went immediately back to full price. AND we were minutes after check-out time. In other words, “You don’t make enough money so we are going to screw you over and charge you more money.” Kind of like credit cards these days.  Can’t pay your bill? OK! We’ll just charge you  MORE MONEY because that just makes the most logical sense. Right?

Married 3 Years!

I’ll never be a millionaire because I have too much logic going on in my brain. I can’t think of these ways to make people who can’t afford things to pay more for those same things that I’ll give to a rich man for free. But I digress…

Luckily, at the actual resort, the front desk woman was incredibly sweet and checked us out immediately and assured us we wouldn’t be charged for a second night after all. If more people were as kind as this woman, the world would be a far kinder and happier place.

I’ve carefully left out the name of this resort company all along, and I’ll continue to do so from here on out. However, I will add a link to “Pissed Consumers” page regarding the company… Reading this page made me realize that they probably did us a huge favor in the end. It is also in reading this page that I wish I’d done my homework sooner and known better what kind of company we were dealing with.

My husband and I refused to let it ruin our Anniversary, and in the end we made our way home a day early. Snow and ice that fell over night made us very grateful we HAD decided to come on home, and everything came out all right. We had a wonderful and memorable day. Made it home safely. And didn’t have to sit though some stuffy 90 – 120 minute presentation on our special day.

Oh and the lesson to read the fine print was nailed down even harder.