If you could hear me now

One of the things I've learned to live with, being married to a musician, is the constant steady background of sound.  My light fixtures frequently rattle and vibrate, like now for instance, as guitar chords echo until they die, so that the whole note is captured in a home studio upstairs.  Lines of songs are repeated over and over through a soundboard, with a metronome in sync with my cuckoo clock, like now for instance.
My husband has always made music and it's a part of our life, like TV is for most people.

I, on the other hand, did not come up making music.  I sang in the school chorus for a bit, but later switched to cheerleading and by my senior year of high school I was involved in a civic organization that served our city. Sponsored by the Junior League, it was similar to a pageant but without the swimsuit or evening gown competition.  The year was spent wearing an antebellum costume to public events, sort of like a minute man might wear to an historic event in New England.

We greeted visitors to our city and smiled at strangers all day long, for hours at a time in a very uncomfortable get-up.  It was an honor and a privilege that changed my life.

Last week I was reminded of all this when I spoke with a young lady who had been in the same organization just a few years ago.  The regulations and events have changed quite a bit, but the experience she shared was all too familiar.  One thing we discussed was the awkwardness of wearing a hoop skirt in a car.

Liability issues no longer permit the girls to wear their costume to an appearance; too many wrecks. But I shared with my friend how I was able to flip the back of the hoop skirt over the bucket seat of my little car.  It looked funny, but it worked!  I climbed ladders in that dress, went below deck in a submarine, and even graced the ladies room.

We curtsied and waved, floated down stairs and up streets in parades.

We traveled by Greyhound bus when out of town, and stayed in motel rooms, four girls to a room.  One bathroom, mind you.  Close quarters required that each of us set up a little station where we'd do our make up and hair.

Circuits were frequently blown, due to multiple hair dryers and hot rollers.  We had a blast and met some of the most interesting people.

I may not have played power chords on a guitar or sang in a microphone, but I sure did make some lasting memories.

These days I am driving around an equally interesting city, but with less flair.  I am glad to come home each night to my knitting basket and catch up with as many rows as possible.

  I decided to 'kick in' with the Seraphine scarf, and knock it out before going back to the Pebble Beach sock. The holidays are fast approaching and I gotta get busy!!