Apologies for the lack of blogging the past week. It's Kentucky Derby time, which for those of you outside of Louisville, is essentially like two weeks straight of New Year's Eves. Now that it's been since last week since I've written, I feel a bit like I have writing constipation. There's a lot to get caught up on, and I don't know where to begin.
Some highlights: Friend-with-a-house-in-the-Bahamas (FHIB, best moniker of all, I think) came over last week to keep me company while I made lists and tried to get organized. Instead of supervising, she ended up completely overhauling and physically cleaning my house, like with rags and dustpans and beating rugs outside. I hadn't really moved into the house in any sort of organized way, and things had been in random places. Now the mantle looks like an HGTV show, the jukebox looks like a shrine, and the clutter is neatly stowed away in the basement. I still can't believe what a good housekeeper FHIB is, despite the fact that she has a maid. Anyway, it's a neat feeling, knowing that I sort of know where to put things. I actually think I'll put away my guitars when I roll in at 3am after a gig. Well, maybe. Thanks, fairy godmother FHIB!
Derby was good. I didn't win much. I had the show horse to show, so that was a nice $7. But even though I sat there and thought, "Hmmmm, Calvin Borel on a horse with longer odds than most ... that would be a smart bet," I didn't bet it. Hmpf. When I was a kid, I picked the winner every year. Again, hmpf.
I played a crazy Derby Eve party with Danny Flanigan's band. We played our final note at 3:56 am, something I haven't done since I was first starting out. It was a good time, and I forgot how much Danny's originals can totally rock. I think I'm used to seeing him in sensitive songwriter mode, when he's secretly a rocker. No one ended up in the pool this year, however, which was bizarre. And of course, I heard about various celebrities who showed up there, but I am terrible about recognizing people out of context. I also lost my voice that night because I sang for 6 hours with less monitor than I'm accustomed too. My own fault, but it's annoying to be back on voice rest.
That's all the Derby re-cap I can fit in today. I'm deep in the throes of putting the final touches on my UK Tour, which starts in two weeks. I'm daydreaming of that little Baked Potato Shop in Edinburgh, charming cream teas in Wales, drams of rare whisky on Islay, and playing to audiences who have innate respect for the troubador. Food, drink, and music. Stoked.
Some highlights: Friend-with-a-house-in-the-Bahamas (FHIB, best moniker of all, I think) came over last week to keep me company while I made lists and tried to get organized. Instead of supervising, she ended up completely overhauling and physically cleaning my house, like with rags and dustpans and beating rugs outside. I hadn't really moved into the house in any sort of organized way, and things had been in random places. Now the mantle looks like an HGTV show, the jukebox looks like a shrine, and the clutter is neatly stowed away in the basement. I still can't believe what a good housekeeper FHIB is, despite the fact that she has a maid. Anyway, it's a neat feeling, knowing that I sort of know where to put things. I actually think I'll put away my guitars when I roll in at 3am after a gig. Well, maybe. Thanks, fairy godmother FHIB!
Derby was good. I didn't win much. I had the show horse to show, so that was a nice $7. But even though I sat there and thought, "Hmmmm, Calvin Borel on a horse with longer odds than most ... that would be a smart bet," I didn't bet it. Hmpf. When I was a kid, I picked the winner every year. Again, hmpf.
I played a crazy Derby Eve party with Danny Flanigan's band. We played our final note at 3:56 am, something I haven't done since I was first starting out. It was a good time, and I forgot how much Danny's originals can totally rock. I think I'm used to seeing him in sensitive songwriter mode, when he's secretly a rocker. No one ended up in the pool this year, however, which was bizarre. And of course, I heard about various celebrities who showed up there, but I am terrible about recognizing people out of context. I also lost my voice that night because I sang for 6 hours with less monitor than I'm accustomed too. My own fault, but it's annoying to be back on voice rest.
That's all the Derby re-cap I can fit in today. I'm deep in the throes of putting the final touches on my UK Tour, which starts in two weeks. I'm daydreaming of that little Baked Potato Shop in Edinburgh, charming cream teas in Wales, drams of rare whisky on Islay, and playing to audiences who have innate respect for the troubador. Food, drink, and music. Stoked.
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