“Wow! There’s Mt. Hood outside our window!” That was my first thought this morning. No, it’s that big snowdrift, but it’s shaped exactly like our famous Oregon Mountain. I must be getting homesick. Last night Frank read me some emails from home, even my students! They’re reading this! It feels so good that people haven’t forgotten us.
Tonight is concert #21 of thirty-seven. We’re over the hump, for sure! I would be lying to tell you all this was a piece of cake. We’ve met some really nice people along the way, but it’s like “two ships in the night.” We never have time to visit much, either because we’re exhausted, or on our way to beat the weather. It’s your emails that are somehow feeding us now. Thanks so much!
Frank has Mexican music playing as we’re traveling south on the I-35 in –2 degrees and 40 to 50 mph winds. What wind-chill would that be? Even with the heater turned up full blast, we still feel the cold trying to seep in. Snow is blowing all over the road into drifts. It’s very icy, and lots more cars are abandoned now. We’re discussing our favorite meal in Mexico down to the last detail. The music is helping.
Even though the sun is sort of out, today is our most treacherous driving day so far. There’s a white mist of blowing snow across the plains that keeps the sky from otherwise being blue. Snowplows are useless here. An ambulance just went by. We just saw a completely overturned SUV. Just now we saw two huge abandoned trucks in the center strip. We’ve got The Weather Channel on the radio now, WHY AREN’T WE IN THE NEWS???? We’re in survival mode now. We are inching along at 20 mph and it will be many hours at this pace before we’ll be safely at our next destination. We have a concert again tonight.
We heard from Allied that they had some concert cancellations on their series last night. NOT US!! I have to scratch Frank’s head for him because he needs two hands on the wheel. There are lots more overturned trucks and cars in the center strip now. Those drivers didn’t have their own personal head scratchier with them!
Our daughter Allie just called. Miraculously, it seems to have cleared up a bit now. Thanks, Allie! We’re now going a nice 60mph and Frank is holding the phone talking to her. The car in front of us just braked.
HOLY @#$%^&*+!!!!!!! There’s a 50-foot solid ice patch! Frank just counted 14 cars, which had spun off the road at high speed in this deceiving stretch. We have to thank that car which braked in front of us. It may have just saved our lives.
There were many more similar stories we experienced all the way to Newton. We stopped along the way at a roadside Mexican restaurant owned and operated by Mexicans and it was really good! The fantasy didn’t quite work this time. We sat there in silence, both of us wishing we didn’t have to go back out in this stuff. When we finally get safely to our room in the cleanest place we can find, I think I’ll have a good cry.
We’re in the non-smellingist room we could find, now, at Econo Lodge. I couldn’t cry. We did call Allied Concert Services, though, to tell them we were concerned about our 333-mile drive tomorrow, then a concert that night. We have to start making some decisions, here.
The concert last night went fine.
Let’s see… last night… We had a small group due to the weather. Those poor people had to go out in this stuff! It was in a beautiful old Methodist church, and we happily modified our staging into “informal mode.” That was perfect for us at this point; a low pressure gig. I noticed the higher and lower notes on the piano seemed out of tune. The tuner, who was also the church pianist, stayed for the show. He said. “Wow! You’re good! You played all those high and low notes, too. I should have tuned those for you! I guess in my next contract rider I should be more specific and request an 88 key tuning!
Back home last night, (at the Super 8), we watched a show on extreme skiing. It was great! They were more daredevils than us, and they made snow look like fun! We woke up this morning to a sunny day. Little did we know what we were getting into!
At the venue this afternoon I sat down to try their nine-foot Baldwin. That’s when the dam broke. My fingers improvised the most gorgeous melodies on the spot as I sobbed. I was finally able to let down my guard. Tonight Frank and I played like never before. After hearing about the fatalities just where we were, and the I-35 finally closing, we were so happy to be alive. Knowing what’s scheduled for tomorrow, a 333 mile drive in the ice and snow to Wisconsin for a concert tomorrow night, we also played like there is no tomorrow. There was giddiness to us tonight, like maybe soldiers between battles. We were so “in the moment.” The audience was smaller than usual because of the weather, but appreciative. The Baldwin was powerful and consoling.
We ‘re getting up early and are going to head towards Wisconsin, but with no promises. Everyone knows we might bag it. Tonight I thought, “What’s the difference between a hero and an idiot? LUCK!” We may be pushing it.
The only decoration in this Econo Lodge room is a blue covered ironing board on the wall. I hope our next destination has something prettier…ZZZZZzzzzzzz
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment