Midwest Tour

Sally and Elsie, A Mother Daughter Adventure

2010-10-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

A crisply uniformed driver named Dewitt knocked on the front door of the house my mother may never see again, with his shiny Lincoln Town Car waiting for us in the driveway. There was confusion at the house, and some disagreements going on in my sister's family, in very fast french I did not understand. Elsie was asking constant questions about where we were going, did I pack her curlers, "where's Ernie?" "where's my key?" etc. Then it was as if someone pushed the "pause" button on the angry French verbiage, and we all exchanged hugs. Elsie and I stretched our legs in the back and took a big sigh as the vehicle smoothly backed away. We got a final view of the house as Stephanie, Baudouin and Sophie waved furiously, us waving back with our arms stretched outside the powered tinted windows. We turned the corner and that was it. Phew! All was packed. Mom had her purse. She had her key. I assured her she had her bag with her curlers in it. I had her medications! Dewitt saw the nasty bangs on my right shin which were dripping blood, and offered me a first aid kit. He also had ice. I told him about me sleeping next to my mother for the past two nights in the very spot where my father had slept. While packing her things that morning, I got three severe bangs from the bed frame on that side.

Dewitt was fascinated about my fathers Military Honors ceremony at Arlington Cemetery, and knew the proceedings well: the flag draped casket pulled by horses, the best military band in the nation, the 21-gun salute, the folding of the flag and handing it to my mother with a salute. I then told him that we had priceless family history going back many generations in those four heavy suitcases back there. He shook his head and went, "Mmm, mmm! You gotta hang onto that!"

We all chatted as scenery smoothly whizzed by. Taking expressways, there was no traffic. Dewitt turned his head back at us and asked what airline we were flying. I didn't even know! Well, all I had to do was look in my IPhone at the email Frank sent me. All was arranged. "Delta," I responded. We must have been getting pretty close to National Airport now. I remembered that Randy had handed me Moms lifetime Delta Crown Club life membership card, and we would be early enough to munch on free food and sip wine in their special lounge. A classy finale to an honorable, elegant and distinguished trip!

Opening my wallet to check on our IDs, I noticed Elsie's drivers license was not in it's usual spot. I carried all her important stuff. My drivers license was there, where was Moms? I didn't want to think about the consequences of not having official photo identification; we were flying out of the highest security airport in the nation! I checked all my wallet compartments. At least I had Moms crown club card. Then I checked all through my purse. Nothing. I took a deep breath. Elsie asked, "Did you loose something?" I checked her purse, rummaging through the wadded Kleenex, and pulled out her wallet. Two dollars and an expired credit card with her name on it. No drivers license!

My breathing became faster and my hands were shaking. I called Frank, who was in Indiana. He said he would go right away and check to see if he somehow had it. Maybe he could take a picture of it and send it to me. Dewitt could feel the anxiety filling the interior of his beautiful Town Car, and suggested that we pull over and pop the trunk to see what was in there.

The phone rang. It was Frank. He had searched everything and found nothing. A large lump was forming in my throat and my voice started shaking. Dewitt pulled over and stopped. Reminding me of the generations of our family history in the trunk, he thought there might be something we could use, maybe even an old birth certificate. I got out of the car and hung up the phone. Leaning into the trunk, I unzipped the first heavy bag. There were frames with old photos, large envelopes containing stacks of papers, a 120-year old wedding dress, old medical instruments, and a stack of newspaper clippings of my mother from 1942. She was in the finals for Miss Maryland, and there was her picture with her name below it! The Washington Star, Sunday edition. There was also her baby book, with a doctors report. Not much, but at least something! Wow! It cost only $27.00 for my grandmother to give birth to my Mom, including a five-night hospital stay!

OK, Sally, focus. With the crispy, fragile papers in hand, we all slid back into the car and made our way to Delta departures. I was either picturing me and Mom living at National Airport for a few days, or, God forbid, having to go back to that house indefinitely, or taking the train to Portland. My head was spinning as Dewitt suggested that I go give it a try, and he would circle around. We left all the baggage in his trunk as we walked in. I was holding Elsie's hand as we scurried through the quickly revolving doors. We found the check-in line.

With each step closer, my face grew redder. Elsie was smiling because she was going on a trip!

Finally it was my turn. I shuffled up to the counter, still holding Elsie's hand, and a nice Indonesian man greeted us. I almost collapsed. Tears were streaming down now, as I choked out, "I can't find my mothers drivers license!" I also mouthed silently, "She has Alzheimer's!" the man said, "calm down, now what do you have that you can show me about your Mom?"

I placed the tattered press clipping and the 87 year-old baby book on the counter, along with her crown club card and expired credit card, feeling hopeless. He gently picked them up, examined them and looked kindly into my Moms face. She returned one of her signature warm smiles. He responded, " yes, that's the same woman, and the same wonderful smile!" he then called for his supervisor, while reassuring me that we had a good chance. The man checking in next to me turned and said he was a cardiologist and was ready to assist me if needed.

The supervisor was a tall, dark skinned woman, her black, shiny hair pulled back tightly into a bun, who seemed both firm and flexible. She nodded to me in an exaggerated way, "Your mother is on a return flight to Portland?" I nodded back, my chin going way up and down.
"Alright, then. You should be fine." The kind Indonesian asked for bags to check. Elsie and I had to go back out there and find the driver!

Dewitt pulled up seconds later and pulled four heavy bags out of the trunk. Porters were ready and waiting, but hey, the suitcases all rolled! Both of us hard-wired to be thrifty, we managed to get them all through those swiftly revolving doors by ourselves. Dewitt waved and smiled, happy it all was working out, and thankful for his much deserved generous tip.

Elsie and I maneuvered back to the Delta counter like two clumsy mules. The cardiologist was still there, and helped us check the luggage, along with our Indonesian friend.

Time was ticking by, and we had more than the maximum carry- on allowed. The next hurdle was getting through security. Would those uniformed government employees be as nice? Let's see, we needed boarding passes and ID. All the people ahead of us in line had drivers licenses or passports, and the officials were examining them carefully with flashlights.

Deep breath, Sally! A woman in her thirties with a flawless dark complexion wearing the official navy blue uniform examined my drivers license and boarding pass. My hand shook as I handed her Elsie's expired plastic cards, her baby book, the press clippings,with her picture and name on it. "A finalist for 'Miss Maryland!" she exclaimed. I shot back nervously, "Yes, isn't she beautiful?"

We were waved through and then escorted aside. "We need to do body scans on both of you," said a uniformed man. Elsie stood first in the enclosed glass tube, and was waved on, separate from me now. I yelled, "please stay with her!" I then had the same scan, watching my Mom the whole time. We then both had the complete wand search. As our shoes, jackets and scarves emerged on the conveyor belt, everything stopped.

"Are you Sally Harmon?" asked a stern inspector. "Yes," I calmly nodded. "Is this your purse?" "Yes." "We need to take everything out," they demanded. I relaxed on one of two chairs they gave Elsie and me. "At least we get to relax, Mom," I joked. There was nothing of interest in there. Seconds later, they held up a rifle shell and asked, "What's this?"

I told them of the ceremony at Arlington Cemetery and how I got this as a memento from the 21-gun salute. I apologized that I had forgotten to check it! They called another supervisor. He looked at the shell and looked at us. He called his supervisor. An older man of small stature arrived after a few tense moments. He examined the bullet.
"This is a special shell that is only used by the Air Force in Military Honors ceremonies. My condolences to you, Ma'am for your loss." He saluted my Mom.

We finally headed for the gate, giddy and dizzy by now. We stopped and bought snacks for the plane. With too much carry on and a warm bag of goodies plus drinks, they scanned our boarding passes. They tried again. And again. "We need to pull you aside," she said. We were three feet from the boarding ramp! Now what? Another supervisor had to do another search on us because we were tagged as "random security check." That last wave through onto the plane made me feel like a baby surviving the final push of childbirth!

Finally nestled in our seats on the plane, we celebrated with our splurge purchase. Foot-long pretzel dogs and strawberry lemonade! Elsie said it was the best food she had ever had.

Day 12: March 9, 2010 Flight back to Portland, Oregon

2010-03-09T14:33:00.000-08:00

Day 12: March 9, 2010 Flight back to Portland, Oregon

We’re at the gate. A bunch of women about my age (I know because someone just opened a birthday card) just filled the seats around us. Girl’s morning out? Or is it an extension of last night? I should ask them if they were the ones in the next hotel room in Ogallala. They’re a happy five some. I do miss all my women friends. There’s a different energy; a different kind of humor, with subject matter completely different than I share with Frank. He has his guy times, too, especially the musicians he jams with once a week. It’s fun being the “little woman” around them. When we get back, as early as tomorrow, we’ll be back to our normal lives, both socially and work-wise. We’ll be in the same house, but going in different directions. We’ll be happy to see Allie (she may even have skipped class today to pick us up at the airport) and our two pooches, and all the flowers on the porches. Tomorrow will be a wonderful reunion with my students. Tonight, even, we’ll have our weekly Tuesday night Ping Pong in our garage. That’s been going on for over fifteen years! Being the only female, it sure isn’t like “bunko” or “book club.” I get to duke it out and dance around to oldies Rock’n Roll, snort, groan, shout, and belly laugh. It’s great to have guy friends, too.

We’re laughing about how whenever we’re in a hurry with all our stuff, we have to be careful when not to say we’re musicians on tour. This morning we had lots of heavy bags for the Shuttle Bus driver to unload. I apologized and mentioned to him why, along with a tip, as Frank scrambled to get a cart so we could check in on time. He starts in with,
“Do you know (so and so)? And (so and so?) He used to be on the Laurence Welk Show” etc. “Where’d you guys play? What kind of stuff do you do? Any Merle Haggard?” and “I remember when…” Well. If I had his job and had to shuttle people at 4:00 in the morning, I’d try to eke something exciting about it, too.

Also, people are eager to tell me about their daughters, sons, granddaughters, nieces, etc. who are taking piano lessons. Sometimes adults lament that they have stopped, and tell me stories about some nun who used to rap their knuckles with a stick if they made a mistake. They were terrified! I tell them to start back up again along side their kids, as long as their present teacher speaks softly and DOSEN’T carry a stick! I have several parent/child combinations, and it works well. We work hard. My motto: “It’s FUN to work hard!”

The sun is rising on a pink blanket of clouds below us. Just under those white, fluffy things, we were driving, performing, laughing, schlepping, snoring, running, (for fun), pigging out, and rolling into a lot of new towns. We have been asked by Allied Concert Services if we’re interested in doing it again in 2012. The answer is: Yes, please! We also have some other irons in the fire for different tours, and if they come about, there will be more blogs, for sure. I’m even working on a book currently. Hopefully between our website, emails, Face book, Twitter and God knows what else, we’ll keep you posted, for sure.

As Dr, Seuss put it:
“Instead of being sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened.”

We just dined at a five-star restaurant of life. Thanks for joining us!

Sallyeharmon@yahoo.com

Day 11: March 8, 2010 Back to Omaha, Nebraska

2010-03-08T15:32:00.000-08:00

Day 11: March 8, 2010 Back to Omaha, Nebraska

Sorry, I’m a little behind on my blogging here. I owe you some yarn on the last two concerts. Right now we’re once again driving in thick fog on the 35 through Iowa. This is the road that I still have nightmares about from two years ago. At least this time it’s only fog we’re dealing with, instead of snow, wind and ice. There are no abandoned cars, or overturned trucks or emergency vehicles like the last time.

Last night’s concert was probably our best. That didn’t mean that we could just relax and let it “roll.” All it takes to mess up is two seconds of mind wandering. It took discipline not to think about: “I hear a few coughs. I need to play better so they won’t.” or, “How in the world are we going to pack all this stuff up and get it on the plane?” or, “Did we forget to eat dinner?” or, “I hope we both remember the changes we did to the show.” It doesn’t matter how well one knows the material; there’s something about being up on stage that can play tricks on you. Also, people don’t realize that even if one whispers from the back row the performers can hear every word. One time I heard, “Wow! Would you look at those shoes! How does she do it?” We had a full house of enthusiastic listeners. There were also some families in the mix, which I especially like. The piano was an older 7-foot Yamaha, which was in great condition. It had ivory keys, which I love! I compare them to a mink coat; PC or not, they feel fabulous.

After the show while greeting and signing CDs, a nice older gentleman offered up some comments. He said while he couldn’t quite connect at first to my original pieces because they were not yet familiar to him, he did enjoy my “Blue Mountain,” and asked if I was really picturing those waterfalls, majestic snow-covered peaks, and wildflowers which I had described to the audience. He also really liked the “Phantom of the Opera “ medley, and asked what I was feeling when I played it. I explained that while it’s always good to get one’s fingers on the right notes, piano playing and being a musician in general goes beyond playing one’s instrument: One must be somewhat of an actor. When playing “Blue Mountain,” for example, I was hiking up a beautiful path in my mind, and inviting the audience to join me. With “Phantom,” I was acting out the show. He smiled, and just then, his wife chimed in that he had been a drama teacher for many years. “Stanislavski!” I shouted. There was a wink, a nod, and thumbs up. That’s pretty much what I try to do in a nutshell, and he understood.

There was an artist’s reception at the Mark and Deb’s house, she being their concert association president. That was our “cast party!” A nice man came up to me and remembered seeing me in the late 70’s, playing in The Shoreham Hotel in Washington, D.C. Wow. He said that after seeing me, he caught The Mark Russell Show in their Marquee Lounge. Wow again. As it turns out, back then Frank was playing bass for that show. Frank and I had worked side by side in that town without ever meeting! This man, thirty years later, was our link. I met a Swiss hotel manager at the time, married him, and moved to New York City. Frank went on to Los Angeles. Four years went by, and my Swiss husband got a transfer to West Hollywood. Once again Frank and I were playing in the same hotel, The Bonaventure, in L.A. This time, we met. Twenty-five blissful years have passed, and I still feel a “zing” every time we’re on stage, and I see him playing his bass and smiling at me.

Let’s backtrack to Minnesota. Garrison Keeler was on the radio yesterday as I was about to write about the good people there. As he says: “Where the men are strong, the women good-looking, and the children above average.” He describes them well. I love the way they say their “O’s.” In one day, we went from Kansas through Missouri, then Iowa then to Minnesota. It was amazing how in each state the accents changed. (Actually, it’s probably we that have the accent.) The small towns throughout Minnesota are neat and well kept, with signs of thriving downtowns.

I wished we had had more time in them.

Shane, our sound and lighting technician who was a high school student, explained that some things were “sketchy” in this auditorium, sound-wise. After working for an hour trying this and that, we finally came up with solutions. The lighting, however, was his forte. He had flashing spots, blue, red, and interesting angles from above, behind, and in front. Wanting him to feel good and use his creativity, we left it up to him. While rehearsing, though, Frank and I thought we were in a Disco!

After being announced, we walked out on stage for our first number. I slid onto the piano bench and couldn’t find middle “C!” There were red, blue and black shadows all over the keys. After hitting the wrong first chord, my heart raced. I quickly recovered, and from then on I pretended that I was Ray Charles. “Don’t look down,” I thought. Later we started “Waltz for Allie.” I looked down again. Darn. Another false start! The red and blue was flashing now. I came close to just stopping, and getting up and doing the Watusi! The piano was a Baldwin, and unlike the lively, wild previous one, this had dignity, grace, subtly and it was clean. I had to search for the “tiger” in it, but finally it was there.

We ended up playing a slightly different show each time this tour. The first one in Ogallala, Nebraska needed to be shortened to an hour and a half, the second in Canyon City, Colorado needed to be different, (because we had played there before) and after that, we decided it felt “fresh” and fun to keep changing it up every time. We told different stories, played different pieces and improvised more. We brought our own microphones with on/off switches so as not to drive our sound guys crazy, and Frank had a bigger presence on stage. He talked. He was funny. He rocked! (He also wore the new pair of tight black pants he let me buy for him.) It was genuinely fun up there on stage.

Frank just gave me some statistics:

Miles driven: 2780, through five states

Time spent in the car: 49 hours

Time performing: 9 hours

Time rehearsing/set up: 20 hours (about four hours per show)

Average audience size: 400-600 people

We made it back to Omaha, ate lunch one more time at “The Big Horn Barbeque,” filled the void in our suitcases (from CD sales) with their BBQ sauce, returned our Jeep Cherokee (slightly damaged) and are now lying on still another King size bed at La Quinta Hotel by the airport. We’re on vacation! There is absolutely nothing we have to do until our flight at 6am. Once we get home, as nice as it will be, it will be “back to work” in another sense. Signing off, now...,

Day 10: March 7, 2010 Clear Lake, Iowa

2010-03-07T21:08:00.000-08:00

Day 10: March 7, 2010 Clear Lake, Iowa

We are in some serious fog here! It’s been this way for the last 100 miles and isn’t getting any better. Hopefully it will clear up for the remaining 150 miles. The visibility is about 50 feet; that’s about two dotted lines on the highway in front of us. Frank just tuned into “Prairie Home Companion.” We’re right in the heart of it, right here in Minnesota.

Garrison Keeler knows all about Minnesota audiences. Right now he’s discussing farting. It sounds as if people are rolling in the aisles! Frank is busting up, too. Guys have free license on that topic.

Who cares about that? We just finished our last concert!!! The best yet. Great piano, responsive crowd, good tech help, A+. We’re about to celebrate with some Heineken in our hotel room. We wish you could join us!

Details tomorrow. We’re not quite done yet…

Cheers!

Day Nine: March 6, 2010 Montevideo, Minnesota

2010-03-06T22:02:00.000-08:00

Day Nine: March 6, 2010 Montevideo, Minnesota

We have room to roller skate in our one bedroom suite here at The Crossings Inn and Suites. When we finally pulled in here close to 9:00 last night, the nice girl behind the desk must have taken pity on us. We wearily rolled our stuff down the hallway, swiped the keycard, stumbled in, flicked on the light, and there might as well have been angels singing! It’s an enormous brand new place with separate bedroom, including king-sized bed with a million pillows and a fluffy comforter, a separate living room, kitchen, lounge chairs, you name it. Boy, did we get an upgrade!

This morning another nice girl at the front desk helped me fax some of this blog to my parents, who live elegantly, but more simply. They have no computer, no cell phones, no answering machine, and only have a microwave and fax machine because we gave it to them many years ago. It’s strange; with Allie, I have to keep learning new forms of communication, and with my parents, I have to go back in time and relearn the old. Also, this is not AT&T country. There is no service here. We have to figure out what we did before iPhones. Verizon is everywhere, however, which is what we had on tour the last time. In the throes of winter and on those desolate roads, that could have been a lifesaver.

So far as I see it, we’ve dogged three bullets:

1. The stray wheel rolling at 65 mph, hitting our car during rush hour on the interstate in Nebraska. Someone upstairs was watching out for us.

2. My sore throat didn’t develop into anything. Twice in the past year I’ve been hit with some pretty bad stuff that has kept me down for weeks. I am truly thankful this time.

3. The weather. We’ve had sunny days, some even at 60 degrees and dry road conditions. Today snow is melting and people are at the ice cream parlor. It’s a balmy 36 degrees for Minnesota right now. The girl at the front desk said that the past winter here has been one of the most severe on record. In this southern part of the state, it was -40 degrees, not including the wind chill. The northern part got it worse. Also snow accumulation closed schools and businesses in a part of the country where they almost never do so. That makes our experience here two years ago here seem like a frolic in the Bahamas!

We have our fourth concert in a few hours at Montevideo’s Fine Arts Center. Frank says it’s a beautiful venue, probably built in the thirties. Tomorrow we drive 250 miles to our last destination and concert, Clear Lake, Iowa. That’s two concerts in two days, back-to-back. It’s going fast!

We’re back. There’s plenty to tell about tonight’s show. We’re celebrating here in the room by eating candy from the vending machine. Frank also treated me to my favorite wine at this cool place afterwards. The Chardonnay was so nice and classy. I asked the waitress what it was, and she showed me the screw-top bottle: Gallo. It’s ALL-GOOD!

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s drive to Clear Lake, Iowa when I’ll fill you in on tonight.

Crunch crunch, krinkle, toss,

ZZzzzzzzzzzz

Day Eight: March 5, 2010 Traveling through Kansas, Missouri and Iowa, to Minnesota

2010-03-05T20:40:00.000-08:00

Day Eight: March 5, 2010 Traveling through Kansas, Missouri and Iowa, to Minnesota

Frank let me drive this morning! There I was, like a female trucker, and there he was, making Face Book postings in the passenger seat. He pointed out, ”Wow! It’s 55 degrees outside!” I responded, “How do you know that? I don’t see a temperature gage in this car.” Oh, there’s one on the dash,” he said flatly, and there’s also a speedometer there, too. Ha-ha!” (He always laughs with himself.) Buying into it, I asked what the other round dial with numbers was for. He added, “That counts how many times you get pulled over for speeding!”

That’s what it’s like in the car around here: silence, then an unexplained explosion of laughter. With my eyes on the road, I glanced over and asked, “What is it this time?” “Oh, just some Face Book postings,” he sniffed. Just a few moments before, I was singing, “Kansas City, Kansas City Here We Come.” Well, we were about to roll through it. He had posted on his wall for all to read: ”I’m goin’ to Kansas City. They’ve got some crazy little women there, but I’ve already GOT me one!” (Again he laughs at his own jokes.) Return comment from his buddy, Corby: “Red haired women; nature’s way of saying, ‘Danger!’”

More silence. BRAHhhhh!!! Frank gets a response to another of his wall postings. It was Allie this time. He had put earlier: “I was just handed the scariest religious pamphlet ever. I’m doomed, but having a blast.” Allie commented on his wall: ”I think your soul patch will probably save you from an eternity in Hell. You haven’t shaved it off, have you?”

OK, now you get the idea about this new-fangled form of communication. Frank puts it: “Idle hands are the devil’s Face Book.” Take the two of us, enclose in a small space for many hours at a stretch, and you see why we just travel as a duo.

Oh, by the way, Frank’s is driving now. You can breathe easy. Just before we switched, I looked at the dashboard and realized there was a gas gage, too! It was below empty, and we had 14 more miles of brown fields to pass before the nearest gas station. Phew! The sun is beating down on us now, as we head northwest on I-29. Missouri has dashes of snow here and there. Wow! A big green sign: Oregon 1 Mile. Maybe they’re will be a spot of green amidst all this sepia tone. The sign was real, the green a mirage. Darn. With this 50-degree weather, I’ll bet green is about to emerge soon.

We stopped this morning at Frank and Suzy’s house to pick up a box of CDs we had shipped there. Dillon was feeling better, and was able to go to school. Frank had to go to work, so we didn’t see anybody. Two ships passing in the night, I guess. When we arrived at the house, there was our box of CDs, and Frank had made us a gourmet breakfast of frittata, fried potatoes, and the works. We felt their presence in some way, just being in their house. We gazed at the pictures on the wall. Dillon is a handsome kid. Frank and Suzy look young, happy, and fulfilled. There were kids sneakers in the laundry room, and kid-friendly fruit juices in the fridge. We tidied up, and left with a warm, loving feeling.

So, last night I promised you some “dirt” on the concert we had just finished. Let me shake out my rag. The venue was in a Middle School auditorium; a classic 1920’s style, with curved balconies and lots and lots of red velvet seats. The piano waiting for me was an old 9-foot Baldwin that longed for affection. My way of “bonding,” (after doing the traditional chromatic scale to see if all the keys work) is to run my miracle cloth across the top, as if giving it a nice loving stroke. It was pretty dusty. Back stages are notorious for that. I pushed up the big, heavy lid to find more dust. Stacy, our wonderful sound and lighting person, turned on the spots. Gasp! We needed to put this thing through a car wash! I couldn’t think about it then. We had microphones and monitors to configure, curtains and lighting to figure out, sound checks, and oh, yes, rehearsal. Playing this Baldwin was like getting on a wild horse. It’s sound was bright and obvious, and there was an energy that had to be tamed. Gretchen, John and Stacy, the nice folks who were in charge of our every need, apologized and said they’re trying to get the money for a new instrument. “No, no!” I said, “This piano has soul!”

The Baldwin looked a bit like it had been in one of those fights out by the flagpole, so I got out my handy dandy thick black marker and went to work. The crew watched me touch up over a hundred spots, plus the bench. They mused that the town might just think they got that new piano after all. My hands filthy and streaked with black, I turned and said, ”This is the glamorous part of being on tour.” We started with sound checks, rehearsing, etc. I thought I was going crazy. Every time we started into a piece, I’d look inside the piano at the strings, glistening in the spotlight, and have to stop, because I saw a patch of dust that I had missed. I told Stacy it was the old Girl Scout Rule: Leave a campsite better than you found it.

All was well, and it was time to open the doors of the auditorium to the early birds. They are a special flock, liking to extend their evenings enjoyment an extra 45 minutes, in anticipation. That meant it was time for me to exit to the dressing room. Their first impression of the “star attraction” should not be of a woman, in a black sweater with no make up on, doing one last sweep of the rag over the piano.

Once again Frank zipped me into my first gown. I was still breathing. Leisurely applying my stage makeup, he left as I looked around, savoring the classic dressing room mirrors with all the glowing round bulbs surrounding each one. “The Staar!” Ha-ha. I somehow needed to get this black marker off my hands. Hair: Check. Makeup: Check. Shoes: Check. Bracelet: Check. Earrings: Check. It was time. Oops, I saw one last smudge on my baby finger. I quickly scrubbed over the sink and reached for the towel dispenser. HOLY COW! What was going on under my arms?! Thick rolls of black, matted lint from my sweater greeted me like two lost sheep. Baaaah! I picked and rubbed with a paper towel frantically, but this stuff was stubborn, turning my tender skin from black into red. What would the audience have thought, as I innocently reached for the sky? Maybe something like, “Oh, she’s one of those ‘natural type’ women from Oregon, you know.”

The show went off without a hitch, and Stacy was quick on the uptake by adding a red light behind me during a moderately racy story. The audience members were mostly old-timers, but they laughed hard, applauded loudly, stood up at the end and yelled, “Encore!” We worked that in, (we were told most performers don’t get that far with this crowd) and everyone made it home in time for bed. CD sales were brisk and there was lots of talk from the ladies about my shoes and sparkly jewelry. Good thing that I had reached up for that towel, or that wouldn’t have been the only talk!

John, one of the concert association people who greeted us, filled us in on the history of this beautiful theatre. After telling him about similar theatres we enjoyed in Kansas, he said that most of that great architecture was from the prosperous 1920’s. The school itself was built then, and it was a classic. It has also been kept up nicely. Like so many old towns across the USA, Coffeeville has a beautiful old street in its downtown district, but with some empty storefronts. There were a few restaurants and a few businesses, but it was easy to see what a grand place it once was. Frank and I were both impressed with the many beautiful churches of just about every denomination. Coffeyville has a WalMart on one side and is replacing it with a Super WalMart on the other. And that’s the way it is.

It’s 8:00pm now, and we’ve been driving since 8:00 this morning. We have 35 miles to go. It’s very, very dark out here on these lonely two-lane bumpy roads. Our hotel in Montevideo is supposed to be pretty plush. We’ve seen snow on the ground for the last 250 miles as we travel north. It’s 29 degrees and breezy outside now.

The sunset was spectacular across the plains, as the lighting came from behind us to the left, making orange glowing snow with blue jagged shadows. Tree branches lit up the sides of the road as forests faded into a soft, muted purple in the distance. White barns gleamed with stark geometric shapes in this day’s final hours. It’s different up here.

Signing off… Frank needs me to navigate. Thanks for staying with us.

Write to me at: sallyeharmon@yahoo.com

You guys are good company to us!

Day Seven: March 4, 2010 Coffeyville, Kansas

2010-03-04T21:56:00.000-08:00

Day Seven: March 4, 2010 Coffeyville, Kansas

It’s 11:29 and we just had a microwavable dinner in the room while watching “America’s Best Dance Show.” Quit a switch from what WE did tonight!

Today I did a whole lot of nothing until it was time to get to the auditorium at 3:30. Loved the indoor pool and hot tub. Warding off the first tiny signs of a sore throat, I sunbathed in the window on a lounge chair and played around with my iphone, getting the hang of Face Book. What a kick! It’s like being at a big party, and exchanges with people are usually brief, like Hors d’Ouevres. There are lots of people at this party, all the time. Some mingle lots, and others just once in a while. Total strangers want to know which Sally Harmon I am. There will be more on all that later.

This afternoon and tonight’s concert was extremely fun. What a place! What cool people to work with! Details on tonight’s concert, including any “dirt” will be written tomorrow during our 600-mile drive to Montevideo, Minnesota. Stay tuned…

Turning in, and sprawling out. We’ve got a King-Sized bed.

The Brain, The Heart, The Courage,

Thanks,

Kansas

Day Six: March 3rd, 2010: Travel day to Coffeyville, Kansa

2010-03-03T20:31:00.000-08:00

Day Six: March 3rd, 2010: Travel day to Coffeyville, Kansas

Oh, the fields of Kansas! They’re kind of a golden brown this time of the year, all the way to the horizon. Traveling east, the sun is in our eyes, but, hey, there’s sun! Looking around at the vast sky we see flocks of migrating birds flying north. Yes, spring is smiling at us. No tornados, either, so far. The temperatures today are expected to approach 60.

I forgot to tell you about the wolf we saw yesterday! We made eye contact, as this big furry thing was wandering not more than 20 feet from the interstate on the other side of a wire fence. Wow! It was beautiful! It also looked well fed. I wonder what it had for dinner last night: Leg of Lamb or Shoulder of Beef.

We also saw about six wild turkeys! They were crossing the road. We have no idea why. No kidding. We were on an off ramp when these beautiful enormous birds with bright red necks and black and white flecked bodies gave us a look, like, “Don’t try anything.” Frank was already fantasizing about the joys of the smoker vs. the grill.

The sun is now beating down on the sleeves of my black sweater, as this laptop is kind of warm, too. Good thing I have my apron on. Maybe I should just take the sweater off, just leaving this kicky blue apron for Frank to feast his eyes on! Maybe I’ll wait a bit and just change into my running clothes instead. Four hours into this eight-hour drive we hope to run another 5K somewhere. Do people run in Kansas? Maybe they run from the police. We just passed some poor soul who got pulled over for speeding. Frank just asked me to call the headquarters for highway patrol to ask how much we can go over 70mph before getting a ticket. Oh, boy! Did I get that billboard right? “Gas, Food, Lodging, Adult Superstore, Jesus is Real.” All in one rest stop! Actually, Frank just corrected me. They were two billboards back-to-back. The yellow brick road has something for everyone, I guess.

Tonight we are staying with some very dear friends who moved to Pittsburg, Kansas after knowing us in Venice Beach, Ca. for many years. I wrote about them in the tour blog two years ago, but now there’s more story to tell: Suzy and Frank Butorac have been a childless couple who lovingly took care of everyone else’s children for years, being Godparents to many, including our daughter, Allie. They are in their early 60’s and very young for their age. Since we saw them last, they’ve adopted a son! Dillon, who is now 12, lost his father to cancer when he was about seven. Then, tragically, he lost his mother at age ten. He had an older brother and two elderly grandparents at the time who were not well. Suzy and Frank were good friends of the parents and also Dillon’s Godparents. Without missing a beat, they were both in Los Angeles to the funeral and to be there for Dillon. Adoptive feelings were mutual on both sides, and the boy was now to start his new life on acres of land, at their loving home over the rainbow. His older brother Travis, in his early twenties, was so happy for him he was almost envious. Two years ago I described their wonderful homestead, just the two of them. Now they’re a family, doing school, church, sports teams, and homework with their now 12-year-old. It’s been a bit of an emotional roller coaster, as one can imagine, but reports are that his grades are up as well as successful adjustments all around. In just a few hours, we get to meet the new son of our friends of 25 years. Actually, Dillon and Frank are “batchin’ it” this week because Suzy is in Seattle with her mother who is very ill. The two Franks have been talking about popping open bags of potato chips and eating dinner over the sink. Looks like I’m outnumbered here!

We just ate lunch at “Jim’s Chicken” in Salina. I confess that with fried chicken, it’s all about the greasy, crispy salty skin for me. Who needs the boring the white meat? I often give it to others in exchange for their skin. In my health-conscious family, I usually make out pretty well. This place had the good stuff. We left the eighties-style décor and the heavy-set women in blue uniforms and white, sensible shoes to nest back into our seats for the next four hours. But wait, I needed to put my blue apron back on! Frank smirked and called me a “Car Frau!” Maybe I should really go with this look and put my hair in pink curlers, and smother my face in Oil of Olay.

We had a sudden change of plans. Dillon came home from school early with a fever of 100 and was vomiting. Not a good time to be houseguests. We were all disappointed, but we do plane to pass through Pittsburg to see them as we go north to Minnesota after our concert Friday morning. We have a box of extra CDs we had shipped there to pick up. Well, that’s life.

We decided to go straight to Coffeyville and go ahead and get a hotel for two nights. We could settle in for tomorrow’s concert, at their middle school auditorium. Tonight’s bed is a King. Ahhhh. The room is elegant and the property, The Sleep Inn, is new. Our first impulse was to collapse on the luxurious bed, but there was still sunshine out there! So, we took a run through town until sunset. What a way to see a place! What a way for the residents to see us! We were oddballs, for sure. Even a police car drove by a few times, starring at us. We didn’t care. It felt so good to get the old blood moving again. To top it off, we dove in the hotel pool and soaked in the hot tub.

Tomorrow is concert #3. It’s all going so fast. Love is in the air. I can feel it. I can’t wait. More tomorrow. My eyes are heavy. There’s no place like Kansas There’s no place like Kansas. There’s n o pl ac e li k e zzzzzzzzz

Day Five: Travel Day March 2nd, 2010

2010-03-02T21:45:00.001-08:00

Day Five: Travel Day March 2nd, 2010

We’re at the beautiful Days Inn in Goodland, Kansas on our journey to Coffeeville KS, 725 miles from Canyon City CO. Our room has two full-size beds with 70’s style bedspreads. All our stuff is dumped on one of them, and we’re jockeying for space on the other. How did our parents and grandparents ever get by?

Today we were giddy soaking up the Colorado sun in temperatures of more than 60 degrees. It also didn’t hurt that our show last night went so well. We savored every moment. There are many ways to measure success with these things: Attendance, the quality of the piano, the venue, the audience’s response, lack of screw-ups, a good sound and lighting team to work with, CD sales, and being invited back. We had all that last night, including the most important thing of all to me: new ideas. Because many people in the audience had heard us two years ago, we rehearsed all afternoon and changed up our show. Also we were given an article from their regional newspaper, which headlined: “Sally Harmon, Pianist, brings Energy and Comedic Flair to Canyon City.” Well, all I had to do was walk on stage and people were ready to laugh. Yikes! I didn’t even have much of anything funny planned until the second half! So, I winged it, improvised a lot, and they ate it up. I like to teach my students about performing, and how a good show involves a love triangle between the musicians, their instruments, and the audience. When everybody feels included, that’s when the magic starts.

We ended up goofing off most of today instead of making much headway in our long journey. First we took a long walk along the path by the Arkansas River near our hotel, and then we ended up stopping in Colorado Springs on our drive east and buying some new running gear. We took a 5K run in Monument Park by the same river in the beautiful sunshine.

Oh, and I made one more purchase today: an apron. My job in the car this trip is to peel oranges, pour coffee, put peanut butter and jelly or cheese on crackers, as well as navigate and answer both of our phones. By the end of a long drive, my lap would look like the ruins of a birthday party for a dozen five-year-olds! Not everything brushes off. So, I bought an apron for the car! The lower pockets catch crumbs; hold sunglasses, cell phones and more. I think it’s a great idea, but Frank looks at me like I might as well be wearing a Moo Moo or something. God forbid! Maybe if my apron looked a little sexier, say, like a French Maid’s outfit…hmmm…

I’m still jockeying for space here. Frank just rolled over in this “full-sized” bed and my laptop almost took a tumble. I guess it’s time to end today’s reporting in, and roll over to defend my territory. If you were to know what it’s like right now, you would need all five senses. I’ll leave you with that.
Sweet dreams.

Day Four: March 1st, 2010 Canyon City, CO

2010-03-02T00:18:00.000-08:00

Day Four: March 1st, 2010 Canyon City, Colorado

We’re here! In a few hours, we’ll be playing the second concert of our tour. The good people of Canyon City have seen us before. The venue is bigger this time. There was an article in their paper about us, including a nice picture. That means we need to get over to the hall and practice! This is one of those times when being tired is not an option. Nevertheless, we’re flopping down on the pillow-top mattress here at The Quality Inn. Zzzz NO SALLY!

Yesterday’s concert went really well! I never know what people are expecting when they come to one of our shows: A concert pianist playing Beethoven? A female Victor Borges or Liberace? And what’s an electric bass doing up there? Were husbands dragged by their wives to see this, making them miss the game? I usually feel like they’re accepting what they’re seeing about fifteen minutes into the show. Mildly embarrassing chuckles in the first half turn into belly laughs the second, and they’re standing and clapping at the end. Any whisper of “Encore” and I’m right back on the piano bench. We greet everyone in the lobby afterwards as people line up for me to sign their CD purchases. There are always comments about my shoes. This tour the first half I wear gold sequin high-heeled pumps, and later, black open-back heels with rhinestones around the toes. Many of the women in the audience end up just looking at my feet even if they don’t understand the music. Standing for a long time signing CDs is the hardest part, but I smile as if I’m comfortable in these things! I explain that it’s easy for me on stage, because I’m mostly sitting down on the job.

The first half I wore my new dress and took one last deep breath of the afternoon before Frank zipped me up. It is one of those that has no shoulders or sleeves, just two brown ropes holding up the bodice, which holds everything in like a corset, and then gracefully (and mercifully) flares out into a full skirt at the hips. The spotlights were warm, and by the third piece I could feel sweat droplets rolling down my bare arms. I wondered if the audience could see that. Then, it got worse! I was dripping from my elbows! This dress has no way of absorbing anything. Maybe people would think I was like one of those Spanish dancers, who, every time they do a spin, the first row of the audience gets drenched. People wouldn’t expect that from some “Lady piano player” up there. The keys even had droplets on them. I don’t need a page-turner; I need a towel boy! Also my hair was sticking to my mouth because I forgot that lip gloss is deadly to a concert pianist. There are no hands available to solve the problem.

An hour or so before the concert, while bonding with the beautiful black satin finished nine-foot Mason and Hamlin, Frank called out from stage left, “Sally, you’d better come take a look at this!” He had just unzipped the suitcase containing the toy piano. There lay bits and pieces of what has always been my signature little skit for years. What a shambles! Little plastic piano keys were scattered everywhere, the wood had come apart and it seemed hopeless. I told Frank that we could just cut that part of the show, because it was too long for what this venue requested anyway. Then I saw his mechanical mind go into high gear. He had packed a hot glue gun. Slowly he began figuring out how to put the keys back in place, asking my advice on what notes were what. I wasn’t sure!

A miraculous twenty minutes later, Frank presented me with a rebuilt toy piano, only missing four high keys, which were shattered. It was good enough. We quickly did a sound check with it on stage, and Frank seemed to be playing in the wrong key. I thought maybe he was just stressed, and would kick in with the right notes soon enough. Finally he said, “Give me a C.” I did. “NO,” he corrected, “That’s an F.” “Oh No,” we both realized, “the keys went in wrong and transposed the piano!” For all of you out there that don’t have the foggiest what I’m talking about, it would have been a disaster when playing it along side the Mason and Hamlin.

Early birds were now requesting to come in and take their seats. Frank had to scramble to once again rebuild the piano, get his stage clothes on, man the CD table, and discuss last minute cues and tempos with me backstage. Good thing he has taken up running since the last tour!

The concert started promptly at 4:00 and no one was the wiser. Even with all the scrambling, dripping, hair sticking to my lips, etc, we played joyously and the audience was with us. The toy piano worked, too. Jake, the sound and lighting guy did a great job, and even created some special effects during our “Phantom of the Opera” medley.

Some audience members asked us if we could join them for dinner after the show twenty miles down the road in Paxton, Nebraska. This place, called Ole’s Wild Game Restaurant and Lounge, was supposed to be really something special. Well, I was exhausted and had no desire to drive forty miles round-trip at night to get something to eat. We had 325 miles to drive the next day, and then a concert. It had also just started snowing.

So we drove to Paxton and found the place. Frank opened the door for me as I ducked in to get out of the cold, blowing snow. There, our new friends, Herb and Karen, greeted us. The next thing I saw was a giant Polar Bear in a glass case. Herb suggested we take the “scenic route” around the restaurant to our table. There were heads of every kind of animal known to man, stuffed, and starring right at me. Buffalo, deer, elk, cougar, flying stuffed geese, antelope, ram, long horned steer, tiger, and even a fully tusked elephant! This room could compete with The Natural History Museum in Washington, D.C. if it weren’t for cute waitresses and tall beers.

We found our way to a long table of people waiting for us. Frank and I were assigned the middle seats on each side, so we could talk to everybody. Easing into my spot, I saw about twelve human heads surrounded by a hundred animals with big teeth, husks, horns, antlers, and lots of fur. Frank thought he saw the original Mr. Ed!After lively introductions and questions/nice comments about our concert, the man across from me said, “You know, they have rocky mountain oysters here.” I responded, “Are they somewhere up there on the wall?”

Happily, the conversation turned to the professions of the others around the table. The guy sitting next to me along with his two friends were cattle ranchers. Nebraska is about cattle. Not just any cattle, but some of the best in the world. I confessed that I know nothing about that subject at all. They told me about selling bulls for breeding, etc. and about the strict criteria for selling at auction for top dollar. Enjoying my ignorance, I asked, “So, you’re in the stud business, then? Does the bull have to be charming? You know, to woo the cows?” Laughter erupted around the table and throughout the room. I guess I have a lot to learn.

It was a really fun evening and I’m so happy to have stopped my grumbling and went. The people were so fun, smart and interesting. I wish we had more time, because I would take the ranchers up on their offer to meet some of their studs. The restaurant was charming, too, Sports Illustrated is quoted as saying it’s the LEAST politically correct restaurant in the world!

We’re back on the pillow top mattress after finishing concert #2. I’ll give you more on that tomorrow. Now I DO have an option to be tired, but first I have to wake up Frank so he can help me post today’s writing into the blog. Hopefully soon I will learn to do it myself. Oh Fraaank… (sorry)

Day Three: February 28th, 2010 Ogallala, Nebraska

2010-02-28T21:14:00.000-08:00

It's 10:30 PM and we're turning in after an eventful day for sure! First concert of the tour, broken toy piano, shortening the show by nearly 30 minutes due to the Ogallala Sunday Matinee crowd, but standing O. Met some great folks.

We get up tomorrow at 5:oo AM to drive 325 miles to Canyon City, Colorado. It's snowing heavily at the moment. Concert tomorrow evening.
Tomorrow in the car I'll give you the details on today's adventures while Frank drafts behind trucks for safety in the blowing snow.

Oh, yea, it's all coming back to us, now!

ZZzzzzzz the people are worth it zzzzzzzzzzz

Ogallala, Nebraska Day 2

2010-02-27T21:31:00.000-08:00

Day Two: February 27th, 2010 Ogallala, Nebraska

We just returned from a big ol’ steak dinner. While wolfing down 15oz. of peppered rib eye, baked potato, Caesar Salad and bread, my thoughts went to my new dress for this year’s tour. It’s a size four. If I continue in this manner, Frank will need a team of oxen to help zip me up!

That’s right. We perform tomorrow. Practice would be a good idea. So far, all we’ve been doing is eating, schlepping and traveling. I hope I still know how to play the piano. Today’s travel day was beautiful, sunny and mild. Ahhhh. We visited a nice grocery store HyVee I think it was, to buy healthy fruits, whole grains, etc. We blew the whole idea on tonight’s dinner. Well, that’s OK I guess. We boiled it all off in the hot tub.

I’m learning Face book. In the car today my eyes were more on my iPhone then on the scenery. Let’s see, since the last tour I’ve learned how to email, blog, text, and now this Face book thing. Frank’s always one step ahead of me, though. He does Twitter, too. Enough already! How many ways do we need to keep in touch? I have to admit, its kind of fun, and it’s really more about people than technology.

We’d better both turn in. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. Everybody in the restaurant knew who we were due to a newspaper article. But how do we get sleep when it’s “Girls Night Out” on the other side of our hotel room wall? Well, I’m sure I’ve been guilty of that myself, so I must owe. Frank just turned on the TV. We’ll drown them out with reruns of “Boston Legal.”
Or, we’ll fall asleep with the TV on…
zzzzzzz

Sally & Frank Midwest Tour 2010

2010-02-26T20:35:00.000-08:00

Day One: February 26, 2010 Omaha, Nebraska

sallyeharmon@yahoo.com

We left flowers in our front yard. We left mild days in the upper 50’s. We left our sweetie-pies; our daughter Allie and Max and Peppermint (our two pooches), plus our friends, family and students to return to the Midwest after two years. People back home on Portland, Oregon reminded us of what we were to face: The snow. The ice. The driving. The fatigue. The schlepping. Yes, there was all that and more. This tour, we’re doing just five concerts, but spread out in five states, totaling 2,800 miles in less than 12 days. We still have to deal with lots of obstacles, but it all becomes worth it walking out onto that stage; the house dark, the crowd big, the spotlight warm and inviting, and our hearts pounding. Frank’s smile when he looks at me through the piano playing his bass. (Frank wants me to put “blah blah blah” right now). Tough! It’s true!

Today after getting up at 3:30AM to catch a 6:00 flight, United let us check four 50-pound bags, (economy plus), and looked the other way at all our bulky carry-ons, (phew!). I have to give some of these airport people credit. Flying is not much fun anymore, and they know it. At the security checkpoint, we got smiles, humor, and I received a complement on my new jeans while getting a pat down!

The plan was to hang out in the big city of Omaha while we had a chance, spend a night in some romantic place, and then start our journey to Ogallala, Nebraska for our first concert on Sunday. But while floundering around downtown in our newly rented Jeep Cherokee looking for that perfect love-nest, Frank made a few wrong turns, got honked at and “the finger” on two occasions. This wasn’t starting out well.

Our apologies to the good people of Omaha, but exhausted and hungry with all their famous steak places not open until dinner, we decided to pull out.

About a mile or so on the way out of town, things started looking up. I shouted to Frank to turn into this place called, “Big Horn Mountain Barbecue.” Nebraska is famous for it’s corn-fed beef, and this place looked homey. We took a seat with animal heads on the walls looking down at us. I ordered the Brisket with homemade barbeque sauce and Frank had the breaded tenderloin. He has a thing for that, being from Southern Indiana. While waiting for our food, the owner asked out from the opening to the kitchen where we were from. We said, Oregon. He felt sorry for us because it is such an ugly place because of all that rain. We inquired about their weather and the conversation got rolling. He joined us at our table and helped with all our travel plans through Nebraska, even highlighting our map. Then the food came. His words quickly turned to garble as all I could think about was that this was the MOST DELICIOUS SANDWICH I’D EVER EATEN!!! The beef brisket had been smoked, melted in the mouth and the barbeque sauce had my head spinning. Frank crunched into his tenderloin very satisfied, as he and the owner, Chuck, spoke of more scenic routes on the Nebraska map. Life was good again. We pulled away with friendly smiles and waves and most defiantly we will return there at the end of our trip.

We headed west, and the good food in our bellies had us singing in harmony:
“Oh, we ain’t got a barrel of money,
Maybe we’re ragged and funny,
But we’re travelin’ along, singin’ this song,
Side by side.”

We laughed. Just then, at 65 miles-per-hour on a very busy interstate, a stray wheel came rolling at us! Frank swerved only as much as the other cars would allow. It thumped hard at our right side. We looked astonished out my window at an older Jeep scraping along the asphalt on three wheels. We found our way to the next exit and examined the car. Yes, there was damage, but it was still drivable. The wheel had followed us all that way without the vehicle! We doubled back and met up with the poor owner who was pretty stressed, and worried that he couldn’t take his girlfriend to the movies. Hey, we were all still alive! Cars whizzed past us as we stood on the highway’s muddy shoulder exchanging insurance information.

So, here we are at a very lovely Holiday Inn in Columbus, Nebraska. The bed feels fantastic. We’re pampering ourselves. I brought a few travel candles and we had Subway for dinner. There’s more than a slight aroma of cow (steer?) in the air. We made it!
Can’t wait ‘till Sunday…
ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz

P.S. Hey out there… contact me at sallyeharmon@yahoo.com. I’d love to hear from you!

EPILOGUE: March 12, 2008

2008-03-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

I got the window seat in an exit row on this Alaska flight back to Portland. Good thing, because Frank could block me from the other passengers view during takeoff, while I had the best cry of my life! It all started when I handed off my boarding pass to the kind-faced flight attendant. I said, “I’m going home!” It’s release time. We no longer are tasking, or particularly focused, or trying to stay safe or beat the weather and the clock. I wouldn’t allow myself the luxury of being homesick much during the entire tour, and now I realized just how strong those feelings were.

Looking out this airplane window, I remember what I said in Concordia, Kansas. The late afternoon sun is hitting the clouds with an orange glow, as I spot a patchwork of greens and browns through a milky mist far below. “There’s a lot of good stuff down there!” is what I told my audiences, after revealing that I was a first-timer in all these places. The pilot came on and mentioned some towns along our way. They’re like new friends now!

Yesterday we made it all 600 miles to my brother Randy’s house, the last three blocks being the hardest. I could see the redbrick second story from down the street, and I wanted to get out and run the rest of the way! That familiar big brother hug was like crossing the finish line. We also had a nice visit with Julie and Ross, and it almost felt as if this whole thing was just a dream. Randy took our picture, as promised, to compare it to the “before tour” photo, to see if we’d aged. Well, two months with a little fatigue thrown in, and some well-warn clothes. Our faces looked content, though.

This morning we spread all our stuff out on their garage floor to pack for the plane. It looked like a bomb hit, once again! Each of us was allowed two checked bags, not to exceed 50 pounds each. We were also allowed two carry-ons, with all the applied rules and restrictions. What a puzzle! We had Frank’s bass, amplifier, CDs, a toy piano and bench, Video equipment, files and files of paperwork and clothes and costumes for two months and 36 concerts! It got down to taking pantyhose out of one suitcase and putting them into another just to come out ounces under 50 pounds each. We ended up giving some stuff to Randy.

At check-in, the ticket agent looked at our load and shook her head. She was sure we were overweight on at least some bags! Well, they all weighed in at only ounces less than 50 pounds. Still with a cart full of carry-on luggage, including Frank’s bass, we sauntered through the airport with time to kill. We did it!

It’s dusk now, as we’re flying over The Rockies. It’s hard to tell where the clouds stop and the snowcaps begin. It’s amazing now, how we’re conquering these jagged peaks with such ease! I know Delta and Canon City are down there, and some of the most breathtaking sights I’ve ever seen in my life.

Frank suggested that I put my Email address at the bottom of each page to make it easier for you all to respond. I would love to stay in touch with all of you who have read this blog, even the ones who had difficulty responding. So, here it is:
sallyeharmon@yahoo.com

We can keep these wonderful new friendships going!
God Bless!
Sally

DAY FIFTY-TWO: March 11, 2008 600-mile drive to Chicago

2008-03-12T06:56:00.000-07:00

We just saw the most amazing sunrise! After pulling out at 5:45AM this morning to a sky screaming with stars, we drove on a dark two-lane road to our first freeway, being careful of pre-dawn wandering deer. Out here the stars go all the way to the horizon! There were two enormous shooting stars to guide us on our journey east. Then, there was a dark pink glow out my side of the car, and a giant ball of fire emerged from the horizon, gently lighting the brown, swaying grasses with the optimism of a new day.

As we drive through the entire state if Iowa on the I-80, I can’t stop thinking about last night. There was so much love in the air; you could cut it with a knife! People had driven all the way from Concordia, Kansas just to see us one more time. Everyone is reading this blog, it seems, which I had no idea about during those sometimes-lonely days on the road.

Last night before the concert I sat behind the curtain, as usual, hoping and praying we would have a good crowd for our final performance. There was two people who preceded us: Marv, who told jokes, and then Mary, who announced us. Marv was a stitch! He looked like a straight-ahead guy, dressed in a business-like suit, when he asked me before going on what I thought he did for a living. Not wanting to say “insurance salesman,” I said, “actor.” He laughed and said he was now a professional jokester, and that he had been playing piano for about a year with his nose. He had a rather nice nose, but I was hoping that if he preceded me he didn’t have a cold!

I walked on stage to a full house. All during the first set the thought kept entering my head that each piece would be its last performance for a long while. There was no time to be sentimental, I had to play my best for this audience and stay focused, this concert being just like all the others. I hung up my green dress at intermission and slipped on the black one for the last time. Those gowns had really held up! I knew the second half would go lickety-split and then we would be done.

The audience was like a powerful ocean last night, with waves of laughter and applause that seemed to go on forever. They even rose to their feet before we had finished the last song! Frank had just finished a hotshot cadenza, and people went wild! We had to calm them down so that we could finish our “last song,” then tease them into the encore. My microphone had died by then, and I had to yell into the crowd. Frank then came on stage with a camera to take a picture of this. Imagine, asking an audience to freeze themselves in time, just so Frank could get them with his cell phone camera like an enormous family photo! They seemed charmed, knowing this was our last big moment of our tour.

There was a frenzy of activity at the CD table as I shook hundreds of hands and nearly ran out of ink from signing programs and CDs. It was weird; as joyful as it all was, we were still working. We had to concentrate while performing. We had crowd control and much commerce later. It was like being the host and hostess at our own elaborate party, paying attention to every detail. We then had to change clothes, pack up, load the car one more time not letting the stage door automatically close and lock on us before being finished, and drive to our hotel and try to sleep before our long drive today. Our real moment was the night before at the theater, relaxed, realizing the enormity of what we had almost completed.

While this blog has been a record of our daily adventures, I guess it is also somewhat of a love story. It’s a story of the power and joy between two people radiating from the stage and making others happy for a while. It’s about our sheer love of music, which we never grow tired of. It’s about laughing and learning through the difficult times, and appreciating all the wonderful little surprises each day brings. Would we do this again?
Wait a minute… let us catch our breath…
ABSOLUTELY!

DAY FIFTY-ONE: March 10, 2008 Fairbury, NE Two concerts

2008-03-10T21:48:00.001-07:00

Frank was the star of our afternoon show. As soon as these 500 little kids started filing into the auditorium, I saw his face light up. The sound from the opposite side of the curtain was higher pitched this time. We walked out and played all we knew from “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” then I asked Frank to give a bass demonstration. Wow, was he HOT! The kids started raising their hands with questions such as, ”How much money do you make playing that bass?” or, “Do you play Rock ‘n Roll?” or, “Do you play any Kiss?” Frank eloquently responded with, “We have an agreement; they don’t play any of our stuff if we don’t play any of theirs.” some of these children, we were informed, were from less fortunate families having never been to a concert before, or never having heard any different music than what their parents played. It was a really fun experience in which Frank was the master of ceremonies. The kids cheered and clapped to the music in the last number, the claps sounding like pounding, rolling waves across the room. I predict that in ten years or so, there will be an abundance of bass players coming out of Fairbury, Nebraska. Frank actually came back to the hotel exhausted, but happy.

Our room right now looks like a bomb hit. We’ve gotten all our stuff out of the car from 51 days on the road, and into this space to pack and reorganize. There will be a big pile of goodies we don’t want to take home for the housekeepers. We’ve also worn some of our stuff out. That’s a good feeling in this land of plenty.

We’re watching David Letterman now, winding down from an amazing night! I was so afraid we’d both “loose it” tonight, but we treated tonight like any other night. I’ll tell you more from the car tomorrow during our 600-mile drive to Chicago. It’s supposed to go up to 64 degrees! I wish we could put the top down. It’s 11:45PM and we’re getting up at 5:00 tomorrow morning. I guess this time we won’t have to worry about icy morning roads. I plan to read Frank the entire blog during the drive, like book on tape. It’s all such a blur to us at this point; we’ll have fun re-capping.
Nighty-night, sweet dreams.

DAY FIFTY: March 9, 2008 Fairbury, Nebraska DAY OFF!

2008-03-09T21:41:00.000-07:00

Last night’s concert went from having to struggle for our concentration, to suddenly being flooded with emotion that it was our second to last. We got another cheering standing ovation, then packed up, and finally collapsed in our room at the last Super 8 of the tour.

Today was a 350-mile drive, but we had a wonderful stop in Lincoln, Nebraska. We went to the historic part of town, by the train station. It is a pretty hip place, with upscale coffee houses, and a brewery-restaurant. We ate there and had some world-famous Nebraska beef.

Fairbury is a nice little town with things to do. We’re staying in the Capri Motel, the only place to stay in town. Frank upgraded our room to the biggest and most expensive, at $40.00.
We went to their wonderful little movie theater, and saw “The Bucket List.”
When the movie was over we both just sat there and cried, all the way through the credits until the lights turned on. It was a touching movie, and it must have sparked something in us. It’s hitting us hard that our tour is almost over, and we’ve realized we’ve had the time of our lives together. Yes, the concerts have gone better than our wildest dreams, but the true happiness has been going through all this together.

I mused with Frank that just earlier today we were tired, jokingly sarcastic about everything, and ready to go home. Yes, that’s true, but we’re now not used to being more than ten feet away from each other at any time! Holding hands in the cold night air, we saw there was a bowling alley still open. Why not? Frank’s pretty good, while I go from strikes to alley shots. What a nice change of pace!

Tomorrow will be busy. We’re doing a mini concert for grades Kindergarten through sixth grade, then our final concert is tomorrow night. There will be no fireworks, no marching bands, and no cast party; just a 600-mile drive the next day back to Chicago.
I hope we won’t be too overcome with emotion to play. We’ll just give it our all, like we always do.

We’re eating up all our spare food and I’ve lit all the candles I brought to use them up, It’s beautiful in here! Goodnight all; feel the love.

DAY FORTY-NINE: March 8, 2008 Windom, MN

2008-03-08T21:34:00.000-08:00

I’m lying here on the bed three hours before we go to our second-to-last venue, in our last Super 8. There’s a slight vaulted ceiling in our room. Anything for excitement in interiors! Tomorrow’s final hotel in Fairbury, Nebraska, is for two nights and is in a town not big enough for a Super 8.
So, this is it, Super 888888888888888888888888888888!

I was thinking about last night’s old, slightly tattered Baldwin. On this tour, you have to accept what’s given to you graciously and do your best, whether it’s the stage limitations, the piano, lighting or no, sound and acoustics challenges, dressing room accommodations, and tech help. The key word here is flexibility. You just adapt cheerfully and quickly, with no complaints. I have to admit I was a little grumpy on this 34th concert, entering last night’s venue and finding things not quite right. There was a permanent set on the stage for the Junior High school play that was still under construction. They wanted me to play with the Grand Curtain fully closed, which I haven’t done yet up to this point. There was very little room left on the stage for the piano and us, and the curtain, touching the left side of the piano, was so dusty I was constantly sneezing. I probably showed my discontent for the lack of proper dressing room facilities and only a public bathroom to use. Then I remembered that Laurie, our contact person, is simply a volunteer doing her best to welcome us and make us as comfortable as possible. These things were not anybody’s fault! It was a building built in 1938, which was badly in need of repairs. We would make it work somehow! We opened the curtains enough to free the piano of dust, and worked with the lighting to soften things up a bit.
Then, we took magic marker and filled in the bigger nicks in the piano. We cleared a space in the equipment room to change our clothes, and Frank mopped the floor. Then I sat on that cement floor to apply my makeup, trying to catch the best possible lighting from the bare bulb in the ceiling, using a portable mirror.

All dressed in my long gown now and high heels, makeup on and ready to go, I needed to use the bathroom before going on stage. (My actor friend Benedict told me that was his biggest piece of advice for a performer.) I peaked out in the hallway, and there was a long line for the Ladies room! That was not an option. So, I hiked up my floor-length gown and wandered down some cement stairs into a dark, cold abyss looking for relief. I had five minutes now. It was spooky down there, like some kind of prison camp. There were lockers and big empty cement rooms. One was a large communal shower, I saw something that looked like what I wanted, but it was dark and the door was locked. Yikes! I started thinking about the floor drain in the communal shower. I’m going to stop right there.

Last night’s full house of 800 or so enthusiastic people quickly made us forget any challenges we had earlier. The final concern was the old Baldwin I was playing, as I tried my best to make it sing. Then I had a flashback. I was suddenly back in my teacher’s studio at The University of Maryland. Stewart Gordon, who I had studied classical piano with since childhood and on into my Masters program, had two pianos, side-to-side, that were just like this one! If anyone could teach me to make music out of an old Baldwin, it was Stewart Gordon. Now I remembered how to approach this instrument!

It’s almost time to go to venue #35. Windom is a small town. That doesn’t mean a thing when we try to guess what it will be like. It’s snowing outside.

DAY FORTY-EIGHT: March 7, 2008 New Ulm, MN

2008-03-07T22:41:00.000-08:00

We were floating rather than sleeping last night. If there’s anything I’ve learned from this tour, it is to expect the unexpected. When presented with the cute five-foot baby grand Kawai piano to fill this big hall full of people, I gasped. I’m strong, but not that strong! Well, it was the little piano that could. What big sound came out of those short strings! It sounded better than one of the nine-footers I played last month! We had the luxury of rehearsing in the hall the day before, so Frank and I were familiar with everything, and our musical skills were freshly sharpened.

At about 6:25PM, people started entering the hall. Frank said, “What, is this an open rehearsal? Should we ask those people to leave!” I looked out there, in tee-shirt, jeans, and no makeup, and politely explained that they could hold seats, but to please come back 20 minutes later. They politely started to turn back when I asked; “The concert isn’t until 7:30, right?” As it was, the show was scheduled for 7:00! Yikes! I laughed and apologized, told everyone to forget they saw me like this!

We were scrambling at that point. Frank still had to set up CD’s get the video camera happening, and get dressed. I had to “hop to” in the dressing room. We pulled it together in time to be wonderfully introduced by the vice president of the association. He talked about Frank having played with some major names in the jazz world, as well as Mark Russell, the political satirist. He spoke of me playing for the King and Queen of Sweden, having started piano at age three. It was easy to come out on stage after that.

The first half went like a dream. No hitches. No problems. We kept looking at each other, smiling. Frank was standing close to me in the curve of this smaller piano, and I loved watching his fingers delicately moving up and down the fret board as he played. The rehearsal had helped, and that little piano was really puttin’ out. The audience was like a racecar; powerful and responsive. We looked forward to the second half.

After playing “Blue Mountain,” the first number in the second half, Frank was signaling to me from the wings to play another number before he came on. He needed to get the video camera going again. I was up there dumbfounded! I couldn’t change the “flow” of the second half at this point, so I looked out to the audience and said, “This next piece requires Frank. Where’s Frank? Well, knowing him, if I do a really long intro, he’ll come running up to play his first note just in time!”
I was way out on a limb here. I didn’t know how much time he needed and what was involved with this new piece of equipment. I played the intro. No Frank. So, I noodled around and played the intro again, slightly differently, looking around and getting the audience to look around too. Then I played some long trills, and in comes Frank, dashing down the aisle, leaping onto the stage and whisking up his bass in time for his first note. The audience roared with applause and laughter. Phew!

I wasn’t sure he’d had success back there, and this was such an exceptional evening, I sure hoped we were getting this on tape. Frank gave me a reassuring nod that we were good to go. At the end people stood, cheering. We did our usual encore and then headed for the lobby to meet and greet. That’s when Frank broke the news to me that John Folin, a senior executive from Allied Concert Services was there with his wife. Amazing. Frank had known all day, but I didn’t have a clue, thank goodness.

As I was shaking hands and signing CDs I glanced over to see this very elegant couple talking to Frank. The gentleman was giving a fine, detailed critique of our show, and his beautiful, well-dressed wife was smiling. “That couldn’t be him,” I thought, “he bought a CD.” It was indeed, and he insisted on buying it, even though they probably had an office full of our stuff. They both congratulated us on our long and successful tour, saying they were amazed at our stamina. They both told us that they enjoyed every second of our show, and then John handed Frank a thick folder of all the critiques and Newspaper reviews they had received on us. There was a glow about that folder, as he said, “Enjoy!”
We felt fulfilled more than ever about all that we had strived to do and become. We celebrated with beer and pretzels in the hot tub at the Super 8!

Frank and I woke up this morning after being a little too excited to sleep. We didn’t have very far to drive today, thank goodness, but we were to meet some people for lunch in New Ulm, with a concert later this evening. These are the ones that found my tape at a garage sale years ago, then booked us for a concert, and after that went well, then referred us to Allied for this tour. These are not just any people for lunch! They drove here from Minneapolis just to see us and hear us perform once again.

New Ulm is a gorgeous little historic town with upscale stores and restaurants, and plenty to do. Why couldn’t we have been here for two nights? Unfortunately with our schedule today, there was not much time to explore. This seems to be somewhat of a tourist destination. It will be interesting to see if the venue matches the town.

It was great to see Paul and Karen again, as we were practically exploding with stories about our tour. We had a nice lunch at a German restaurant, and familiar faces at this point were a welcome sight.

The concert tonight was one of the best attended on our tour. We must have had 800 or so in the audience. The venue and the piano were a bit old and tattered, but we made the best of it. People were unbelievably receptive and excited, which made for a thrilling evening. We only have two more concert stops to go, with an extra school program on our last day. It’s hard to believe we may actually be going home soon!

DAY FORTY-SEVEN: March 6, 2008 Glencoe, MN

2008-03-06T21:44:00.000-08:00

What do you do when you have the whole day free, it’s 5 degrees outside, the streets are icy, the town has no theatres, libraries or museums, and you’re in a small room at the Super 8? Frank and I take turns on the computer. We savor every email from our friends, fans and family like fine literature. We answer everything almost immediately, unlike when we are at home.

This morning I also went swimming in the spa. Really! You have to do the legs and arms separately, but it wasn’t very hot and holding onto the sides, you can actually get some exercise. (It’s easy to work up a sweat in there.) I read in today’s paper that the daily recommended walking for the average person is 10,000 steps, or about five miles. Also in the paper were the Surgeon General’s recommended 8 to 10 servings of fruits and vegetables per day. How different the streets and sidewalks would look if that were the case! Everyone would be bundled up and out, crazy like us! The food offered up at restaurants would be different, too. It’s tough to eat healthy on the road. We end up going to grocery stores and buying fruit, whole grains and local cheeses.

Speaking of the newspaper and our daily “discovery walks,” we did find something interesting today after all. After visiting Gert and Erma’s coffee shop (we’re regulars now), we wandered into an old newspaper office, The Glencoe Enterprise. What a blast from the past! The office has been producing papers there since 1873. They still had most of the original equipment, creaky floors, and beautiful old windows. A woman came out and greeted us with a huge white bandage on her chin, saying she had slipped on the ice. We know how easy that is to do! For some reason, the conversation quickly changed to bird and animal rescue. She ended up helping me learn male and female Eagle birdcalls, as well as differing Owl tunes for specific occasions. What a HOOT! We ended up being entertained by this woman, Marie Thurn, for close to an hour, getting interesting facts about wildlife in the area, AM radio stations where we can get the inside scoop on a town, where to eat in all the places we’re going, and even pranks she and her friends have pulled on her husband, who owns the gas station across the street. After being surprised at her instant friendliness in an area where the people seem somewhat reserved, we were charmed, and told her of our concert tonight and put her on the guest list. She would make a great opening act!

Wow, what a night! It’s nights like these that make everything so worth it! Too beat to write now, but plenty to write about tomorrow. Man, oh man!
ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzWHEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

DAY FORTY-SIX: March 5, 2008 Glencoe, Minnesota DAY OFF!

2008-03-05T21:02:00.000-08:00

Travel today should have been easy, with a day off and only 150 miles to go, but it wasn’t. The winds were ferocious, and these little secondary roads were filled with ice patches and blowing snow. While driving cautiously, you can only hope that others will, too. The biggest fear for me is of facing an oncoming car “daredevil” passing in the ice and snow. If our car had to swerve a dive to avoid such a thing, it would be in a deep ditch full of snow in the middle of nowhere. Today was a high of 18 degrees. Frank pointed out that sometimes road conditions change from county to county, and definitely state to state. As we crossed over into Minnesota from South Dakota this morning about 9:30 AM, there was a definite change on the road. We went from a sanded and salted road in South Dakota to an untreated snowy and icy road in Minnesota. Driving from that point on was very stressful and the strong winds didn’t help.

We rolled into our Super 8 (the only hotel in Glencoe), and collapsed once again. Frank went out to check out the town and came back with a dozen red roses for me! (Sniff!)

We decided to arrange some practice time today and it felt good to sharpen up on a few things for our last four concerts. After that, Frank talked me into driving to Hutchinson (20 miles away), for a movie, since there’s no theater in this town. I reluctantly said yes, as I knew he meant well. We ended up driving on very dark back roads with random ice patches everywhere. We took a couple of wrong turns, but finally found the theater, but by that time, we missed the show. Disappointed, we braved the trip back to Glencoe and hunkered down back at our hotel room. There just doesn’t seem to be much to do in Glencoe in the winter if you don’t live here.

If we do this tour again, we’ll suggest that maybe on our days off we can play for the schools more in these areas. We would meet more people and have fun entertaining all these great kids. Today at the school when we were practicing, there were auditions for the class play. I wanted to jump right in!

The next three nights are busy with concerts. We’re looking forward to that. We’ve practiced, we have up-dated haircuts, and our outfits are freshly cleaned. That’s how we’re dealing with the home stretch. Tomorrow I think we’ll take a long walk no matter what. Maybe we’ll stumble across something interesting!

DAY FORTY-FIVE: March 4, 2008 Milbank, SD

2008-03-04T21:42:00.000-08:00

There’s a sign suspended above Main Street that says, “Enjoy Milbank.” Well, yes we are, thank you. This little town (too small for a Wal Mart) has so much more to it than meets the eye. Frank went into town and scheduled us for a grain elevator tour! We have been rolling past these enormous structures for weeks now, and I was curious to see one up close. So, we headed out of town a few miles to see the newest and biggest. I was scared, I don’t know why. I was picturing this locked in, claustrophobic experience, and going up some tiny elevator inside a big cement tower or something.
What we saw were rivers of corn being let out from underneath big trucks, running through these enormous grates to be then scooped up from underground by a conveyor of many cups to carry it to the top of this 20-story structure. We were taken into an office where everything is tracked by computer. They store corn, wheat, and soybeans. They put probes into each truck before weighing the load to check for bugs, and if all checks out ok, this big company buys from the farmers who usually haul it in themselves with their own trucks. These people with the grain elevators are the “Middle Man.” They warehouse these grains and then sell most of everything to China. So that little kernel of corn or wheat or soy from the farm gets trucked to these elevators, then falls through a shoot into a railroad car to the west coast, then onto a ship to China. The man told us that it’s all about speed. They only get so much time to load railroad cars, or trucks, or there are big penalties. It’s a ‘round the clock operation. Wow. I gave him a CD as a thank you, and he hardly recognized me from the picture. That figures.

We were on a roll. We parked on Main Street to take a stroll through town, and we saw some trucks painted like cows. We wandered over there to find a cheese making plant. There was a Swiss flag hanging outside. That’s a good sign. It was Valley Queen Cheese. As it goes, two men traveled from Switzerland, met in Wisconsin, and started a business in Milbank, SD seventy-five years ago. Now they’re making 75 million pounds of cheese yearly! We got another tour! It was amazing to see these vats the size of Olympic pools with cheese, curds, and whey being stirred by what looked like gigantic whisks. We bought some yummy pepper jack and aged cheddar and invited everyone to our concert tonight. So hopefully, we’ll have some of the “big cheeses “ in town tonight!

Then we wandered over to the courthouse, which is usually the most historic and grand building in these towns. This was no exception. Inside was a marble staircase with scrolled brass banisters leading up several floors to a spectacular hand-painted rotunda. On the top floor was a classic courtroom, the kind you would see in “Perry Mason,” but maybe a little older and fancier. There were more than one defibrillator machines available, as well as a fainting couch in the Ladies room. I guess some pretty upsetting things can go on in that courtroom! There were other official offices as well on various floors, including a County Nurse facility that was open. In the entryway were many food boxes, filled and ready to go for the less fortunate in the area. Beautiful granite war memorials stood proudly outside to commemorate the people of Milbank, fighting for our country in all the various wars of the last century.

We walked on, we passed a boarded up old theatre and other beautiful old closed buildings. Life was rather grand back then for these town folk! Now, new buildings are usually Wal Marts or Pizza Huts. Sorry, I’m just a hopeless romantic. If I lived here, I’d try to keep the restoration funds going. Maybe I’m just out of touch with current priorities.

Almost to the car now, we passed by a little place that caught my eye. They had Wild Chokecherry jam in the window, and it was as local as you can get. We wandered in smelling some kind of meat being smoked, as I browsed through the homemade jams. A pretty young woman in a bonnet came up to the counter after she and her husband were conversing in a language I couldn’t quite make out. It sounded like some kind of German/English mix. Frank was fascinated at all the various sausages and smoked meats they were making. Hunters apparently bring them their freshly killed game to be processed into almost anything they like. They then sell the skins to fur dealers. We were given samples of Buffalo, Venison, and Summer Sausage. After buying some, they generously gave us other meats for our travels. Their adorable little daughter was running around, obviously enjoying these curious new people in their shop. I couldn’t hold off any longer, and had to ask where they were from. They said, “South Dakota.” Oh. Then they told us they were ex- Hutterites. That explained it. Hutterites are a strict community of German dissent, almost like the Amish. This family had left the group because they got tired of being told every detail of how to live. They travel in to town every day from far out in the country, and love it that way. The father said he once went to Chicago (the south side), and was scared to death. Never again for him! He laughed when I told him I was scared of the grain elevator this morning!

We went back to our room after a great outing, to a gourmet picnic of fresh cheese with Venison sausage, and apples with wild chokecherry jam for dessert. Now that’s livin’!

We arrived at the High School to be greeted by the Darrel, the association president. He was very helpful but rather reserved, so our first impression was of not being sure how well we would do with this audience. Boy, were we wrong! They cheered, they hooted and hollered, and laughed out loud! It was a healthy turnout, too, considering we had a basketball tournament to compete with. We were on cloud nine. It also helped to play with freshly styled hair and newly dry cleaned clothes. We decided that we would work to have our last five concerts are to be our finest yet. Tomorrow, even though we only have driving to do, we plan to schedule time to practice a few hours in the hall. This is last lap sprint time.

Frank told me that Darrel came up to him after our show and was very complementary. He said at first he wasn’t sure he wanted to listen to piano music for two hours, but was surprised to be that entertained and loved the show. He also ended up agreeing with my staging ideas. (I made some special requests about how I wanted things to look.) Remember many weeks ago when I talked about the reluctant man whose wife drags him to see some lady play the piano? The result is he is the first to stand, applauding, and he becomes the most wonderful fan and friend. Cool.

We loaded the car after the concert in the most beautiful, peaceful snow. You might think we’d sick of this stuff by now, but it was silently coming down and magical. Tonight was not brutally cold or windy. Let’s hope we still feel that way about this snow on our drive tomorrow to Glencoe, Minnesota. Better turn in. Wow, what a great day! When can we do this again?
ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY FORTY-FOUR: March 3, 2008 Travel to Milbank, SD

2008-03-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

Our glorious spring day on March 1st was a tease. We woke up yesterday morning with the same sun beaming in the window. We had plenty of time before our Matinee, so we put on our duds to go for a repeat walk around the lake. We left the hotel, spun around, went back in and put on more duds. The walk was so windy and cold we had to hang on to each other for dear life! We found out that in just 15 hours, the temperature had dropped from 64 to 20 degrees, and the winds were 50 to 60 MPH! What a refreshing way to start the day! (We noticed we were the only ones anywhere in sight.)

We arrived at the movie theatre at 12:00 and all was well. The piano was on stage in front of a curtain that covered the movie screen. It was a Yamaha, and the community raised the money to buy it. The six-footer was enough to fill this 145-seat hall. We knew we would have a cozy, packed, enthusiastic house. There was also a lovely dried flower arrangement on stage to grace the piano, complements of the theatre manager’s wife, who was the town’s piano teacher.

Frank broke the news to me about our “dressing room” one and a half hours before our show. Apparently the theatre office, which is what we were given, was now locked with the only key inside the locked room. Yikes! All my make-up, my gowns, everything for the show was in there! Terry, the manager, called the town locksmith to help us out. I thought it would only be moments now before we had access. The guy showed up, but had real trouble breaking in. He tried credit cards. He tried crowbars. Nothing worked. Now people were starting to show up for the concert, and I was in the lobby in my old jeans, tea shirt, with no makeup. The guy kept trying. I was then suggested to wait in the somewhat chilly alleyway until the door was forced open. My fingers were getting numb, and we had 15 minutes now until Showtime. (It takes me 30 minutes to get ready.) I told Frank that I had a “plan B,” and that I had an extra gown in the car, as well as extra makeup. Frank told me the car keys were in the locked room, too! Shoot!
Would these people get their money’s worth with me going on as is? I could improvise plenty of jokes about it. Pressure and mishaps are great inspirers.

Finally, at 1: 52 PM, the door opened to the “dressing room” and I had eight minutes before walking on stage. Someone got me a little hand mirror so I could do my makeup, and we just about made it. I ran down the cold side hallway, my high heals clicking and my gown’s train dragging, and hopped up there on the piano bench under the spotlights.

This little Hettinger audience rocked! We made jokes about everything, about being late, and why, about Frank “rock picking” (rooting around for the world-famous North Dakota petrified wood), about doing a concert in a movie theatre and more. We never felt more welcomed and wonderful. Luckily, we got some of this on tape with our new video camera.

Later we went to a local hangout for dinner with our contact person, Pam Harper, and her husband, Bob. The Sunday night special at this local hangout was waffles with all the trimmings. One person had a stack of pancakes that were the size of four or five pizzas piled up. People do like their food here! We enjoyed our conversation and Bob got all excited at the very idea that it was possible that through distant relatives, he and Frank could be related! Were there possibly some undiscovered inheritance claims?

There seems to be almost an instant familiarity when we meet Midwesterners. They may break the ice by taking a chance, asking, “Illinois license plates… do you know my cousin Suzy in Ottawa?” People not only know almost everyone in their own towns, but in the neighboring towns as well, as if everyone is a part of a patchwork in some gigantic quilt.

We made it to Milbank today after a sunny, easy 320 miles. We both had a hair cut in Aberdeen. On tour, hair is an issue, since you want to look your best every night on stage. At home of course, we have our regular people we go to and trust. On the road we have to just hold our breath, and walk in wherever, hoping whoever it is can take us right away and we end up looking like ourselves. Today’s experience was full of punchy humor, and left us with upgraded hair. We feel less like the ragged Salmon I described earlier, at the end of their long journey, ready to spawn.

We are down to five concerts left, but 1700 miles of driving. We have five more High School Auditoriums to go.
We’re in another Super 8 tonight, and have three more of them left after this. I wish they had a souvenir tea shirt! We have kept all the room keys, though. We’re going to figure out some silly game to play with them.

After six and a half weeks now, we’re a little bit in the Twilight Zone. We alternate from being really excited to being like Zombies. Our humor is getting sillier and wackier, and we laugh at the stupidest things, now. Towards the end, I promise you that I will write a list of the craziest stupidest things that have happened with no names or places to protect the innocent. Not tonight, though. It’s low lighting and cream-colored walls here at the Super 8, with the décor being a mirror and a coat rack. I think I’ll turn off the light and dream of our own bed just nine days away…

DAY FORTY-THREE: March 2, 2008 Hettinger, North Dakota

2008-03-02T20:13:00.001-08:00

DAY FORTY-THREE: March 2, 2008 Hettinger, North Dakota

In today’s Bismarck Tribune front page, top-of-the-fold, the headline reads, “Gold nuggets from the soil,” Wheat farmers are enjoying $20 a bushel! Yesterday I mused about Channel and Gucci boutiques going in next to Wal Marts around here, but I quickly nixed that. The paper says, “The farmer doesn’t have his money very long. He takes it to town… he goes to the bank to pay down loans, and gives money to the equipment dealer and upgrades an old tractor, or buys another piece of machinery.”
Well that’s just like us. Frank’s bidding on a six-string version of his bass on EBay, and I’m working towards that dreamy nine-foot Steinway.

Tomorrow’s a travel day 320 miles across South Dakota and will be a good time to write about all our adventures today; and there were some, definitely! Stay tuned…
Z zzz Zz ZZZZZZZ zzz honk
Z Z zzzzzz snort mmmm ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY FORTY-TWO: March 1, 2008 Travel to Hettinger, N.D. DAY OFf

2008-03-01T22:56:00.000-08:00

We’re going south! (South North Dakota, that is.) The journey is similar to yesterday: constant streams of snow blowing westward across the road, like we’re driving through hovering, fast-moving clouds. The mild 16 degrees this morning seemed brutal because of strong winds. Frank read that Hettinger is expecting a high of 60 today! (That’s ABOVE zero!) Say what? He wanted to high tail out of our room, so I had to gulp down my coffee.

As we roll through these vast plains, we have a newer understanding of what goes on around here. After last night’s concert we had the pleasure of enjoying pizza and beer with Paul and Nancy Olson, our contact people. Nancy has taught music for many years, and Paul is an aerospace engineer. Although that alone would have been plenty to talk about, we ended up discussing the open plains of this vast state, which only has 600,000 or so inhabitants. Paul shared how he gave one of his out-of-state coworkers directions, with them ending up calling him on their cell phones way lost. That was because in his directions he said, “Turn left at the first stop sign, then, right at the light.” What he took for granted was that these moves were 40 to 60 miles apart!

We’re bumping along on this I-83 south with a giant horizon all around us. This whole trip we’ve seen lots of silos and grain elevators. I said to the audience last night that before we leave, I want a tour of one of those things. As it goes, they aren’t really elevators, but complicated series of storage areas for many types of grains. Many people approached me in the lobby trying to help me in my quest. Maybe today we can stop and see one. (Please, Frank? I’ll trade you that for a pawn shop!)
After reading about grain prices, those things are like giant gold mines! The farmers are sitting pretty this year. Also, we learned of the tremendous oil reserves in this state. When people buy land around here, the mineral rights are a separate transaction. There has been new oil recently discovered in these parts. So maybe next trip we’ll start to see Gucci and Channel stores, and car dealerships with BMWs and Mercedes along beside the Wal Marts! Somehow, I doubt it. There will be a quiet wealth, like the rural version of the book, “The Millionaire Next Door.”

Nancy and Paul also told us of all the tribal culture that exists here. I think it is the Chippewa tribe. We heard their music in the car being played on their own radio station. It sounded quite Native American, with all the drums, rhythms and chanting, but with Pop-style lyrics added like, “ I don’t wanna be your #2!”

Today, being Saturday is a big hockey day. Families travel for miles to neighboring towns for their kid’s tournaments. Just about every place we’ve visited has a hockey rink, and kids start young. There’s also something called, “curling.” That has to do with sliding big granite discs on the ice, kind of like a giant game of Shuffleboard. On ladies night, first there’s a visit to the “Snake Pit,” a furnace room where there’s some gossip and guzzling going on, then they start at those big pieces of granite.
We’re also in the heart of basketball season, with High School boys and girls rival teams beating it out for the championships, commanding the full attention of everyone for hundreds of miles.

There’s a lot more going on in these small towns than meets the eye. People’s nights are fully booked with church events, sports events and various forms of culture. Our concerts sometimes compete with other activities, and people have to make a choice. So much for us rolling into town and saving the day with something to do!

For example, when we checked into our Super 8 yesterday, we were told there were two events going on in Bottineau that night; our concert and a wedding. A big dance was following the wedding and the whole town was invited. Everyone? Including us hotel guests at the Super 8? I guess so! Even Paul and Nancy were interested in checking it out with us after our pizza and beer. We respectfully declined, because at 11:30PM I was starting to melt from fatigue.

Last night’s concert went well, although both of us were running on reserve power. Still, this audience was just as important as all the rest! So we gave it our all, none-the-less.
Frank suggested that maybe people shouldn’t know so much about what we’ve gone through; as if they’re getting us like warn out Salmon at the end of the run, ragged, ready to spawn. My brother Randy even took a picture of us before we left for this tour, so he could compare it to us on our return; to see how much we’ve aged!

All these thoughts and fears were dispelled last night, after I got the greatest complement of the tour: A handsome older man came up to me and said, ”You are about the sexiest thing we’ve had here in years!” Wow! It must have been the shoes. Maybe he had trouble seeing. I didn’t care. I was basking in the moment, and I told Frank about it in the dressing room later. He responded with, “Well Sally, you’re not the only one. I’ve had a few mature ladies hinting at more than casseroles!” We were so amused we could hardly concentrate to pack up.

Oh, my God! The ground is brown! We’re almost as far south as Bismarck, and the temperature has climbed to 46 degrees! I just wound down the window and it was balmy!
March is definitely coming in like a lamb.

We stopped in Bismarck at The Texas Roadhouse and had two of the best steaks we’ve ever had. It was crowded and bustling in there, and the mood was so upbeat it made me want to be a Texan! Maybe all the good moods were due to the now 53-degree miracle outside.

It seems that one creature had Spring fever, though, in the parking lot of T.J. Max. As we parked, we saw a beautiful Yellow Lab mix crossing a busy street near us. I gasped, knowing there was not much we could do. A nice man was then holding the dog by the collar, trying to read the phone #. I helped him decipher the numbers on the warn-out tag and luckily, the owner was home. By this time, there were four of us petting this obviously already well-loved dog. He sat, lifted his paw to shake, but was a little nervous and distracted. Then an embarrassed and thankful woman pulled up in her car, and said he had escaped his invisible fence. With this warmer weather, it may have been too tempting, being the first day for really good smells in a long time!
We were all so relieved and happy that I went in and scored a new pair of designer spring shoes!

Wowie Zowie! It’s now 64 degrees! We’re driving with our windows down now on North Dakota’s famous Enchanted Highway. It’s enchanted because some artist did major iron sculptures every few miles along side this small, barren, desolate road. To us what was really enchanted was the way the road would seem to climb up to the sky like a landing strip. The brown hills are oddly shaped and somehow different. We feel so carefree!

Uh oh. Our gas tank is running dangerously low. We’ve gone about 10 miles now, and its 30 or 40 miles until the next tiny little dot on the map. Those tiny little dots don’t necessarily mean gas stations, either. We can’t chance it, we have to turn around and try to make it to Dickenson. Darn! Well, now that we’re going the other way the sun is behind us, and it’s even more beautiful.

We made it to Dickenson after holding our breath. I asked Frank why a warning signal didn’t come on. He said maybe the needle wasn’t down far enough. Far enough? In North Dakota, gas warnings should go off at a half tank!
I really wanted to go in the dinosaur museum there, but it was closed. Apparently, this is major country for big fossils. Imagine those creatures roaming around where we were driving!
All the highways we took at that point were enchanted, because we had gas, it was warm, and there were no dinosaurs to contend with. We did see hundreds of beautiful wild pheasants and even some bald eagles all the way to Hettinger, though.

Hettinger is a small town with a beautiful lake and wildlife preserve. We arrived in time to take a sunset walk all the way around the frozen waters. The adjacent hills and grasslands were teaming with all kinds of birds, and the peaceful silence of this setting made it possible to hear their many calls. We kept walking, and ended up on Main Street. There was a man outside a small, old-fashioned movie theatre and he told us there was a piano concert there tomorrow. How about that? He showed us in and sure enough, the movie theatre doubles as a live venue! There is a nice new Yamaha waiting for me tomorrow tucked behind the double doors. His wife is the piano teacher in town, and we walked by her studio and peaked in the window. Nice. There was actually a movie playing tonight, so after killing some time at a nice restaurant nearby, we went to see “27 Dresses.” Our first movie in two months! What fun. Lots of people there recognized me from the posters, even with no makeup on, and in black fleece instead of a red gown.
With seating being only146, I think we may have a full house.
I’ve always wanted to play in a movie theatre. Now we need to come up with some silent films!

Today turned out being a fabulous day. It was the kind of day we really needed. Tomorrow should be interesting.

DAY FORTY-ONE: February 29, 2008

2008-02-29T22:04:00.000-08:00

Happy Leap Year! I had a friend call me today; it was his birthday. He has done this every four years since 1981. He is officially 16 today! When I was playing “When I’m 64” tonight, it occurred to me that his real age matched my song. It’s cool to have a friend that you talk to for about 20 minutes once every four years!

I’m going easy today on the writing, but there’s plenty to write about in the land of North Dakota! More tomorrow…
Dive,
Flop,
ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY FORTY: February 28, 2008 Crookston, MN

2008-02-28T21:23:00.000-08:00

Here’s the real scoop about last night: Frank tried to get a jam session going in “our” restaurant by calling some musicians we met the night before, but everyone was in Wednesday night church and said they may stop in later. We waited, ate, and trashed the paper tablecloth with crayon doodles and games Frank always beat me at. Finally, after 10PM we were tired, and decided to get outta there fast before anyone DID walk in with his or her instruments and expectations! It wasn't meant to be.
I think Frank misses his buddies and Thursday night Jams.

Tonight’s concert is #8. (We’re on a countdown, now.) We’ve actually done 28 concerts in 28 cities so far! At zero, our coach turns back into a pumpkin and my gowns into rags…(I can’t believe they aren’t already!) and we go back to life as usual in our house in Lake Oswego, Oregon. But I still have my prince, (aw), and my glass slipper is this blog. I will cherish all eight remaining concerts, and we’ll just have to see what happens after that.

Tonight I will once again be sitting in the wings ten minutes before the show. Frank calls me “Old Reliable.” No one ever has to come looking for me. I like to sit there early to get a “feel” for the audience. How big is it? Are there pretty much the same number of men and women? Are they in an excited mood? Good! Some ladies are laughing. People seem to know one another. I hear some children this time. Uh oh, there’s a fussy baby! I don’t hear too much coughing yet. There’s some wheelchairs in the front and off to the sides. I’m glad they could make it, too.

After the Association President makes the announcements and we are welcomed, I walk on like in some way I already know these people. It’s usually halfway through the first half, though, before I can get a really clear reading that they’re with me. Sometimes I’m lucky and know right away. Looking out there I only see dark, with spotlights in my eyes! I’d just like to invite everyone into my living room.

Every audience has it’s own distinct personality; about as varying as the pianos I’m given. It’s usually just a few spirited people out there that lead the pack. After one of Frank’s bass solos, for example, if one person claps confidently, everyone else follows suit. We love the guys with the deep belly laughs and the ladies with the wonderful sighs and shouts. Then there’s the occasional whistler during the applause. (I’ve always wished I could do that!) The whole show comes so alive with a good house! This Midwest audience has stood clapping at the end of each and every concert, and then quietly sat back down for an encore. They really seem to appreciate us having traveled to their town. This is what makes everything worth it.

I’ve been sitting poolside once again while writing this. My bathing suit has been damp more on this tour than any six weeks in Hawaii! We’ve been in some pretty nice hotels lately, and during the day we take advantage of them when we’re not traveling. Today’s drive was only forty miles, so we have a little free time.

It’s snowing again outside. The drive here, although short, was full of blowing snow across the road. The temperature has gone up to a whopping 16 degrees.

The stores are now full of Easter decorations and by then we will be back in the Northwest. I feel for these people. Easter this year is March 23rd; just over three weeks away, and there are absolutely NO signs of spring yet. The Midwest has had its worst winter in years, and now we’re in for the earliest Easter in years! That makes for a tough combination in these parts.
I can just imagine all the cute little girls dressed up on Easter Sunday, with their little patented-leather shoes slipping on the ice, trying to gather Easter eggs in the snow. At least the colors will stand out! Frilly dresses will be covered up with coats and Easter bonnets will be woolen. Ouch! One could always stick some silk tulips in the snow to perk things up!
I’m hoping to God that I’m wrong about all this, because if anyone deserves spring this year, it’s the Midwest!

Tonight was as described earlier, except for one thing: instead of just water for our dressing room, we got an Easter basket! See? Easter is on everyone’s mind. It was all full of treats, with purple grass. Yes! That set the tone for the whole night, except Frank’s bass fell over at the end of the first half. He had tripped on the chord, and it fell hard, face down on the stage. The audience gasped! Frank picked it up, tried it, and it still sounded fine. There was more applause into intermission.

The group afterwards was lively, with families with kids taking piano lessons. There were some award-winning young pianists there tonight. I loved chatting with them.

We’re heading off early tomorrow morning for Bottineau, North Dakota. It will be the northern-most destination of our tour. We’re a little nervous about this journey because of ice, blowing snow, and driving through extremely remote areas. We have a concert tomorrow night in this small town near Canada. I’d better turn in. There’s really no time to celebrate about the great night tonight.

I’m dreaming of a green Easter,
Just like the ones I used to know,…..

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzBRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

DAY THIRTY-NINE: February 27, 2008 Thief River Falls, Minn. DAY OFF!!

2008-02-27T20:15:00.000-08:00

There was a factoid on today’s front page saying that less than 50% of all teenagers in 2007 bought any CDs at all, adding to the duress of musicians worldwide and the recording industry because of downloading.
Think about it, people are now willing to buy WATER, which comes out of the tap for free, but they’re not willing to buy MUSIC, which requires a fortitude of creativity, practice, intellect, skills, and a lifetime of hard work, risk and expense. Music now comes out of the Internet like water for free. It doesn’t make much sense for musicians to record any more.
OK, I’ll get down off my soapbox now. No, not yet. Maybe record companies could repackage their music into convenient, disposable plastic bottles. That’s it. Something to buy that’s cool…

See what happens when a day off gives one time to think, and check in with the outside world? I’m sitting poolside at the lovely C’mon INN. This place rocks! With a real wood-burning fireplace to greet you, it’s comphy, cushy, and stylish. I’m looking out onto the sunny, freezing landscape from this warm, humid atrium. Maybe I’ll snap my fingers for a Pina Colada after a dip in the pool and spa. Frank booked us both massages today, and it looks like that, plus eating, writing and laying around is about as wild and crazy as we’re gonna get. A glorious day of nothing!
Last night we played in the Lincoln High School Auditorium to a nice healthy crowd of 500 or so. Frank said the local papers are all over it today with positive feedback. I had a flying earring again last night, and Frank picked it up and dangled it in front of the crowd! The six-foot Steinway shook as I played! I had to use a little more muscle on this one to get the tone and power I wanted. Scott, the stage manager was great and somehow knew perfectly before I got there how I liked the stage set-up. He created beautiful lighting, too, with lots of colored gels and nice spots. All that stuff really helps to make a good show. Every time he was happy about something, he’d say, “Now we’re cooking with Crisco!”

Afterwards we ended up at Café Rhombus, the same place where we ate lunch. The menu is imaginative and fresh, and it’s apparent they take their food seriously. We ran into people that had seen us earlier at the concert and it was fun hanging out. Matt, the owner, a young friendly music lover, asked if I would give their little piano a spin. What the heck? I did. We had a good old-fashioned time, complete with singing and requests. I got a free beer! We went there again today for lunch, and we’re going back for dinner tonight. Maybe this day off will turn out to be wild and crazy after all!

We’re now in the early Wednesday evening Twilight Zone. Everybody’s in church! I mean, everybody! We don’t know anyone, and wouldn’t know where to go. That explains why on this Midwest tour we have gotten Wednesdays off consistently. It makes sense because two times a week in church builds community, not to mention the faithful tune-ups between Sundays.

We had another fabulous dinner at the Café Rhombus. Wow, four meals there in two days! When we like something, we’re instant regulars. Also the faces become familiar for us transient folks on the road. It was a nice day off. Not very wild or crazy, but a whole lotta nothing can be nice, too! Ahhhh
Zzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY THIRTY-EIGHT: February 26, 2008 Thief River Falls, Minnesota

2008-02-26T22:17:00.001-08:00

Last night we played at a 100 year-old theatre graced with a blue and white Victorian interior, including a gorgeous dome and stained glass windows. I felt like I was playing inside a giant piece of Wedgwood! There was bigger-than –life Greek style statues on both sides of the stage, with a nine-foot Steinway waiting for me in the center. Another gorgeous macho piano! Yes!

This was a University, so there were students mixed in with the audience, as they were required to attend so many concerts per semester. Even the old-style seats had swivel desks attached. I informed our listeners that there would be a quiz at the end.

Playing in this environment had a special memory of piano juries for me. Those are music school final exams where one performs on their instrument in front of a committee of music faculty. Would these people put up with my shenanigans? Would they laugh me off the stage?
The audience mostly sat in the back of the theatre. At first I thought that’s because they were rather dubious, then I realized that much of this crowd has been coming there for years, and people being creatures of habit, like the same seats every time. They can also get out quick if they don’t like something!

Again, the piano was dreamy. I’ll remember this tour partially by all the Steinways I’ve fallen in love with. I actually get to dig my fingers into these miraculous instruments, get applause, and get paid! Not a bad deal! I’ll have to do a few more tours to afford one myself, but I can dream, can’t I?

Hilda, our contact person, was from Holland, Greeting us with a hearty North Dakota smile, we instantly felt relaxed and at home. The stage had these acoustic shells around the piano, which were not really my style. Joe, our lighting and sound person then showed me the beautiful stained glass windows surrounded by elegant woodwork hidden behind them. Against the music department’s wishes, we pushed away the shells to create the most inspiring environment ever. If we met with disapproval, my excuse was that the stained glass matched my dress!

The audience was energetic and fun. The association even had a gathering afterwards with delicious homemade goodies. We were welcomed with kind words and nourished not only with hors d’oevres but friendly conversation. We were told of the –30 temperatures we missed the week before, with wind, making a wind-chill of –50! One little girl said it goes up to 100+ in the summer. I think there should be a special North Dakota thermometer, which is much longer, maybe floor to ceiling!

It’s snowing lightly now as we travel towards Fargo and eventually back to Minnesota. The billboards going east are endless! There’s about one every 50 yards. I feel like we re driving through the Yellow Pages out here in the cornfields!

Ahhh, Starbucks. Frank’s running some errands here in Fargo as I sip a “Skinny Latte” and pretend I’m skinny and back in the Northwest. We’re now into our sixth week of relative isolation on the road. I’m sure glad I have Frank, because I wouldn’t survive otherwise. We miss our friends and family, and our schedule doesn’t much permit budding friendships. We read and reread any correspondence we get, so thanks so much to those of you who have written us!

Tomorrow we have our first day off in a week. I want to do something wild and crazy! What do people do around here?

DAY THIRTY-SEVEN: February 25, 2008 Valley City, North Dakota

2008-02-25T12:06:00.000-08:00

Continuation of Wadena Blog
Oh, what a beautiful morning! There’s icy rime all over the delicate tree branches and long blades of grass. The firs have each and every needle covered as if hand-dipped by a gourmet chef. I’ve never seen anything like it! The horizon fades into muted greens and purples with occasional accents of classic red barns as we head northwest towards North Dakota. It’s clear sailing today. People told me yesterday that rime is what Minnesota winters are famous for, and it’s also called “Hoar Frost.” Oh dear!

Wow, we just passed by The Lodge at Lake Detroit. What a beautiful place! Too bad we have to roll on through. We’re definitely coming back here in the summer.

Yesterday’s concert was a landmark. We rolled up to The Memorial Auditorium and were greeted by a Minnesota-friendly face. Bonnie showed us in to a gigantic gym and basketball court with shiny wooden floors. Well, that was different! I suddenly wanted to shoot some hoops and run around for a while! To the left of the court was a 100ft. velvet curtain, slightly open to reveal a gorgeous nine-foot Steinway. Behind that graced a 700-seat Art Deco auditorium. I tried the piano and got goose bumps. I didn’t want to part with it even long enough to get dressed.

The “backstage” was the big open gym. Our dressing rooms were on the opposite side. As I emerged all dressed in my gown with my high heals clicking across the basketball court; a wall of sound came from behind that big curtain. It was huge and deep. Frank said it was maybe our biggest audience ever. We love Sunday Matinees! I suddenly got butterflies. I could hear men, women laughing and even children out there. This was the perfect mix: Dreamy piano, beautiful place, and large, excited audience.

Then we both heard a slight tinkling on the piano. It sounded rather random, kind of soft and blotchy. It couldn’t have been the tuner. There was now rumbling from the audience and slight laughter. Frank peaked around the curtain to see what was going on. He told me that a little boy had climbed on the piano bench! There was bigger laughter, applause, and then silence. We could hardly contain ourselves!

After a great introduction by Bonnie, I walked out to greet a full house. The size made me a bit nervous at first, but it’s almost as if I was being coddled by this audience. They were so responsive; they even laughed and applauded at things we weren’t expecting. As I played, I kept looking down into the piano at the multitude of long, copper strings. They seemed to go on forever as they glistened in the spotlight. With a thrust of my left hand down for a low C octave, and all I could think was ”Yea, Baby!” This piano performed!

We got our own special taste of “Minnesota friendly” after the show. So many people stayed around to visit; we felt as if we already lived there. I was furiously taking wrappers off of CDs; both of us signing them, when a nice woman came up with her two boys. The younger one, Brandon, was our new budding star. I had thanked him on stage for being our opening act, not having actually seen him. Here he was, this four-year-old little kid with glasses and a big smile. His mother said that before the show she was outside and frantic because he had gone off and disappeared. She searched everywhere around the lobby, then the next thing she saw was her little boy in the spotlight, all the way up there on stage! Apparently, he had first tried Frank’s bass guitar, then moved on to the piano. She tore through the auditorium, leaped up on stage and grabbed her son. We could hear the commotion at the time, but now we got the picture!

Little Brandon has now experienced the joys of the stage and those big toys up there. I will be closely watching his musical career.

We later ended up dining at a local spot with good home-cooked food. It seemed that many of the patrons there had been to see us that day. What a friendly bunch! We laughed a lot and really enjoyed talking to everybody.

DAY THIRTY-SIX: February 24, 2008 Wadena, Minnesota

2008-02-24T19:31:00.001-08:00

We woke up this morning to DENSE FOG. I put that in bold type so you wouldn’t have trouble seeing it. We could barely find our car outside the Super 8. There were two older couples from Canada in the breakfast room with a big map of the US laid across the table. Their big “Southern” tour was highlighted. This is The South for them! They’re staying put because of the fog. As they talked, they were taking all their medications and spoke of their numerous pace makers. They laughed at how they felt old because their kids were retiring. It was nice to have even a little casual conversation with these friendly people. We had to head out, though, because travel today would be treacherous and slow.

What is the visibility when you can only see three dotted lines in front of you? After that, it’s a wall of milky white. It’s spooky out here. We’re inching along with the hazard lights on and luckily; our drive is only 70 miles. We hope we make our 2:00 matinee with enough time to set up. Frank is coping by listening to his old XM radio suspense stories.

After being exposed to six murders, dramatic organ music, and countless quivering helpless ladies, we made it to Wadena.

The concert today will be etched in my mind as one of my fondest memories. Everything about it was amazing. I’ll fill you in on some hilarious details during our drive tomorrow. Stay tuned…ZZZZzzzzzzzzz

DAY THIRTY-FIVE: February 23, 2008 Melrose, Minnesota

2008-02-23T21:35:00.000-08:00

Wow! Some of this blog was published in two Kansas Newspapers, and used for website material as well. Cool!
http://www.bladeempire.com/web/isite.dll?1203102598234~concert

We’re having the most glorious early morning Wisconsin drive! As we pulled away from our Super 8, it was –9. The colors are extra special in this early morning light. Trees are glistening as the sun hits them sideways like twinkling Xmas lights. Forests softened by the horizon almost have a lavender cast. Birch trees gracefully adorn the sides of the road as their white trunks contrast against the dark green fir trees. There is almost no traffic. We keep passing through these tiny towns which welcome you with their little green population signs: numbers like pop 93, pop105, and a bigger one of 3000 with a McDonalds.
We’re in a major recreation area, with world famous cross-country ski competitions. I can see why. The only thing we’re missing here that we see everywhere in Oregon is big resort lodges. It seems that the atmosphere here is less fancy, with adventurers staying in motels or with friends. Am I way off the mark? Please let me know out there! Maybe this area is Wisconsin’s best- kept secret and they want to keep it that way.

The cows are even different here. They stand perfectly in a row in the field, evenly spaced, and facing the same direction. Is that why Wisconsin cheese is so famous? Disciplined, orderly cows produce the best milk.

Frank and I have differing distractions: while I am always curiously pulled by museum signs, Frank wants to stop at pawn shops and music stores. We try to keep each other from noticing things like that. One thing that I’ve learned to tolerate is Frank’s occasional “view” stops. We just had one, after crossing the river into Minnesota. I also stepped out in the fresh air, to enjoy this scenic rest area right over the frozen river. Frank proudly talked of certain things that girls just can’t do. Looking down into the snow, I found that special FMG monogram in a large, bold font. Frank had initialed his approval of the view this time, of the beautiful St. Croix River! I can hear our guy readers now, going,
”Yo, Frank!”

Tonight’s concert was a super high for Frank and me. We felt like we played the best we have all tour. Things even went wrong; it didn’t matter. It wasn’t our biggest crowd; it didn’t matter. CD sales were less than average; it didn’t matter. We just had the time of our lives. The piano felt like home. It was a Yamaha. I know how to drive one of those and get just the tones I want with my eyes closed. I was flying tonight, and so was Frank.

Other things went wrong, too: During my first piece my right hand thumbnail broke. There was a big flap catching on the sides of the keys. I almost stopped the program for fear of further injury, bleeding, and possible cancellations. Instead, I held my breath the entire first half, and luckily I was able to fix it on the break! Phew! (My form was not all that great, but it didn’t matter.)
Then during the first piece on the second half, my left earring flew off! I discreetly picked it up off the floor during the applause, thinking no one really saw what happened. Well, I should have made a joke about it, because everyone commented on it later!
If that wasn’t enough, during “Green Sleeves” my left sleeve got caught on my right bracelet during a crossover! I forced it, broke some threads, and went on.

None of it mattered. All I could think of was how the music transcended everything. For the first time in a while, instead of thinking of how many concerts we still had to do, I thought how LUCKY we are to be doing this at all. Each remaining concert now has the same important status as gourmet chocolates in a box. We are down to eleven now. We must savor them. If this is starting to sound like Forrest Gump, so be it. Yes, this tour HAS been like a box of chocolates! We’ve been walking into a venues never knowing what we were gonna get: some are nutty, some rich($), some fruity, some fancy, some plain. It’s all been amazing.

Tomorrow we drive, and then have a Matinee at 2:00. Better turn in. Although Frank works his butt off, he told me that all this to him is like a big vacation. He continues to amaze me. For me, it’s just a very important time, which I take very seriously. There’s a lot of joy in that. It’s fun to work hard!

DAY THIRTY-FOUR: February 22, 2008 Park Falls, Wisconsin

2008-02-22T20:25:00.000-08:00

It’s warmer today on this sunny 120-mile drive to Park Falls. The car thermometer registers at 5 degrees. This far north the landscape changes to more fir and birch trees. I wonder if in the next 18 days on this tour we will see the first sign of spring life popping out of the snow. If so, I would do an ecstatic dance!

I’ve noticed throughout the Midwest during these January and February months that many people keep their Christmas decorations up. Well past Valentines Day, evergreen wreaths with red bows still adorn many buildings. Little Xmas lights are common. I’ve mentioned this fact to many people during this tour saying how cheerful everything stays during these long, winter months. I wish we weren’t so “correct” in the northwest. If I were Queen of the world, I would decree that those pretty lights stay up until spring!
The responses I got were mostly that it’s been too cold to go outside and take them down. That’s fine with me.

We just took a spin around Park Falls. We passed a huge round sign in front of city hall displaying a bird and the fact that we’re in the Ruffed Grouse capital of the world. We stopped in a nice family restaurant and being Friday, I tried the fish fry. Frank wanted to know if they had any Ruffed Grouse on the menu! Well, there were some hunting folk in there. He settled for rib eye steak, which he thought tasted pretty close to Ruffed Grouse.

A nearby town, Mercer, is the Loon capital of the world. (I’m not going to touch that!) It’s amazing how so many of these birds stick around and survive the winters here. We have seen numerous wild turkeys, cardinals, geese, eagles, and many we can’t name. Watching them has been a high point for us as we ride in the car.

In these past weeks all the waterways and lakes have been frozen solid. Many have scattered little ice- fishing huts. Boy, the fish don’t get a break even in the winter! We heard from our friends in Fairmont, Minn., who live on a lake, that those little ice-fishing huts are really cozy little drinking getaways. Have fun, guys!

Tonight’s concert was in the Park Falls High School Auditorium. We were reminded afterward how remote this place is by the fact that we were told the nearest Wal Mart is 50 miles away!
We had a healthy crowd, with some very young children in the front row, including a baby. I could hear her cooing much of the time. Sweet! The joy of playing and performing once again lifted my spirits and reminded me why we are doing all this. In the past, just one of these concerts would have been a big deal. Now, it’s every night. I can never take the honor of playing to audiences like these for granted.

Frank’s longtime friend and colleague, Steve Hudson, suggested to us that we do this blog in the first place. This guy is one of the funniest, most creative, and smartest people I have ever met. Among many other things, he has toured the college circuit as a musician/comedian. He sends his crazy and fun words of encouragement regularly. One of the best was comparing the spotlights of performing to warm sunshine after a tough day. Now I think of that every night on stage.

Tomorrow we travel 300 miles to do the next concert. I’m starting to have dreams about home. I haven’t allowed myself that pleasure during the day. Come on, Sally! You’re strong! Thank you, everyone, for all your wonderful emails. We’re saving all of them.
Must turn in now… tomorrow long day… ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY THIRTY-THREE: February 21, 2008 Antigo, Wisconsin

2008-02-21T21:11:00.000-08:00

I have to admit; the past few days have been the most challenging so far. After so looking forward to our day off, it only gave me too much time to think. The temperature went down to –20 last night. Of course, everything’s relative. I should be stronger. I keep looking at these motel walls night after night and thinking of Martha Stewart in prison. How would she make things homier? I’m not the victim type. I just have to have a plan.

This morning we woke up to one of the most beautiful sunrises ever. I shared it talking to a little boy in the lobby who is temporarily living here because his family lost much of their home due to flooding. (A pipe burst.) He had been away from home longer than me, and didn’t have much of a home to go back to. He was hoping to get out of school today because of the bitter cold. No such luck! Later, I saw him get in the car with his backpack.

I am now in a lounge chair basking in the warm sun, my bathing suit wet from the pool. No kidding! I’m probably going to regret not wearing sunscreen. This Super 8 is GREAT! In this huge room with knotty pine walls and ceiling, a 90- degree pool, spa, sauna, and lounge chairs have greeted me as the only guest all day. The sun beaming in the window and flooding my whole chair is magnified more intensely by the bright, glistening snow. The thermometer outside is registering at –9. Frank went out to discover the town and just came back with the most beautiful flowers! Things are looking up! In a few hours, we will be playing concert #23 here in Antigo. We will definitely be well rested and happy. A vacation has been created right here! I think Martha Stewart would approve.

The concert tonight rocked! We had a packed house, responsive audience, and good piano. People were standing in line for me to sign their CDs. It was a record night! Good thing today was restful. A woman from Allied Concert Services was there, and she had to stand in line to introduce herself! She was respectfully brief, and said she had helped to represent us and was glad that she came tonight. It’s always good to have a night like tonight when important people like that show up.
We had to rush loading in the car after the concert because the wind was blowing and it was bitterly cold. Its nights like these we have to be so careful to have packed everything, because when the stage door closes, we’re locked out!
Back at the room Frank and I made a toast to an exceptional night. We’re charged! Look out, wherever we’re playing tomorrow!

DAY THIRTY-TWO: February 20, 2008 DAY OFF!! Travel to Antigo, Wisconsin

2008-02-20T20:49:00.000-08:00

I am writing to you from inside an old log cabin with a wonderful heater, a quilted bed, tasteful country touches and old, knotty pine on the walls and ceiling. The sun is streaming in the window on my fluffy pillow as I lay here incredulous that they say it went down to –20 here last night! There are mountains of snow outside. This is a sweet reward for making it all the way to Tomah, Wisconsin, and playing the concert after all. You may have thought we fell by the wayside because yesterday’s writing ended so abruptly. After waiting until about 10:30AM, we noticed that all the truckers had gone. That’s how fast conditions change around here; sometimes for the better.

We carefully made it on the I-80 to Des Moines, fully intending to stay there, but we kept on driving. The roads north on the I-35 were so much better than the day before! Reverently driving passed hundreds of abandoned vehicles buried in snow, some overturned, we were thankful ours was not one of them. We were pretty beaten down from the past couple of days of treacherous driving, and were taking this trip one step at a time. Last night’s concert was luckily still on, because we ended up making it the whole 333 miles without incident. We rolled into town just in time for our sound check.

My coat, being a mess and stinking like burnt goose feathers, was all I had for warmth. I wore it through the parking lot into a little outlet mall along the way to buy a new one. Looking like I had just been in a pillow fight and smelling like something died, I couldn’t find one coat. It was –2 outside and February, and all the stores had was Spring attire! Frustrated, we went on our way having wasted precious travel time.

When we got to Tomah, Frank had a great idea. He located a seamstress who would patch the three burn holes in my coat. We met at Wal Mart, matched some fabric, and she had it fixed by that evening! Good thing, because we’re traveling into country with 80” of snow and arctic temperatures. Spring fashion? Are you kidding?

I played on a Yamaha piano last night to a healthy crowd at Tomah’s High School Auditorium. These people drove through canyons of snow to get there. Afterward I thanked the many who showed up. They said Wisconsin folk don’t let any weather stop THEIR fun!
Allen, our contact person and also the guy who announced us, was extremely helpful, knowing we had come a long way and had limited time to set up. His announcements took a little longer than usual, as we stood backstage ready to go on. Later, just before entering the stage after intermission, he came running back with his microphone. Breathless, he said he needed to go back on stage. He told us that in his first announcements, he had talked about someone from their community having just died. As it turns out, she was sitting right there in the back row!! On stage there he stood red-faced, saying something about not having his glasses on during his previous announcements. He even had her stand up to show everyone that she was alive and well!
I walked on after that, grabbed the microphone, and said that was the funniest thing on our whole tour! Later, when I was introducing my tune “Joie de Vivre” as meaning “The Joy of Life,” I dedicated it to that woman in the back row. Boy, what a fun night!

We’re well on our way to Antigo now, having stopped for a great lunch at a Wisconsin chain called “The Charcoal Grill.” We’re not much for chains, but this one had the best hamburger we can ever remember. This is a MUST if you’re in Wisconsin!
We found out from the waitress that we just missed Hillary Clinton right here on this I-39 North! Well, yesterday was the Wisconsin primaries, after all. Maybe that’s who was wailing in the log cabin next door! I’m glad she didn’t hear us listening to Obama’s big speech.

This blog is turning out to be more controversial than I had ever intended. There seem to be lots more readers now, and I guess it’s easy to offend someone without meaning to. I’m just reporting on our adventures in the Midwest from my perspective as a first-timer.

So, on politics I will stay mum. What’s great about music is that it can transcend all politics, party lines, cultures, age barriers, race, religion and attitudes. I just play. It’s fun touring the Midwest during a Presidential Election year, though. We’re getting an idea what these campaigners go through, what with the travel, the “performances,” and the public relations. It’s rigorous. They had weather to deal with, too. I think Hillary could handle a 36-city concert tour, but I don’t know if Super 8’s have Presidential suites!

We’re enjoying a glorious night off doing a whole lotta nothing here at the Super 8 in Antigo. We even got massages today at a Wellness Center. Ahhhhhh. We have 20 more days to our Odyssey. It’s going fast.

DAY THIRTY-ONE: February 19, 2008 Tomah, Wisconsin??

2008-02-19T07:43:00.001-08:00

It’s a truckers breakfast here at the Econo Lodge. I wandered in to get my usual orange juice only to hear four or five beefy guys telling horror stories about the roads, and lamenting the fact that there wasn’t any gravy for the biscuits. I wish I could talk like they do. I could hardly understand them, but I got up my nerve and chimed in with our story. They became instantly silent, and looked me up and down. They said, “Wisconsin? You ain’t goin’ nowhere!” They told me some of the major freeways were still closed, and the ones with travel advisories are slick and dangerous. They also told me that if we get stuck in a ditch, no one would tow us out for days. I asked how we would survive in these sub-zero temperatures out there, and they said a police officer would eventually pick us up, and we would get a $150.00 ticket for driving during an advisory. These guys are staying put.

The sun is shining on the snow-laden trees outside our warm and cozy room. I don’t mind that it’s Spartan anymore. It’s time to make some calls. Frank’s throwing a load of laundry in, so it looks like we’re also staying put for a while. We’ll try to make it as far as Des Moines today, and maybe there we’ll find a big, old romantic hotel and just hope that we can reschedule our concert. Does De Moines have such a thing?

I am now without a warm coat. My beautiful, expensive, puffy, goose down jacket that has helped me survive got burned up last night! It was touching the make-up lights in the dressing room! Boy, did that stink! Have you ever smelled smoldering goose feathers? We were laughing about it last night, until today. We now realize that my biggest piece of survival gear is gone. The temperature right now in Newton is –8. The winds are at 10 to 20 mph. I don’t want to be an idiot OR a hero.

We left the laundry detergent in the car last night. It froze. So did Frank’s eye drops.

DAY THIRTY: February 18, 2008 Newton, Iowa

2008-02-18T20:46:00.000-08:00

“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

DAY TWENTY-NINE: February 17, 2008. Osage, Iowa

2008-02-17T20:47:00.000-08:00

There’s a sign for a Super 8 in five miles. I could walk that far. It’s whiteout here on the 163 towards Des Moines and there are no snowplows on this Sunday morning. People will have to watch church on TV. I hope they put in a word for us up there. We’re going steady at about 40mph, and we’re the only crazy car right now on this freeway! Frank just bypassed our chance to get off! We’re hearing all the church cancellations on the radio. We called our contact in Osage, and he says so far it’s only overcast up there. No concert cancellations for them! The radio newscasts are warning us every minute not to be doing this. This is the blizzard we’ve feared about this tour for more than a year now. I hope it’s the only one.
Winds are blowing strongly now. Frank wants to make it another 29 miles to Des Moines. Now he wants some chocolate. (I scored this stuff in the after valentines sale shelf, 50% off.) Any other last wishes?

Frank’s fine. He’s happy listening to his old, crusty radio dramas on XM radio. It’s “The Whistler,” this time. They’re actually pretty funny. The women always have the same role: slightly helpless, slightly sexy, and if they’re an accomplice, they were forced in to it. Anything to get both of our minds off of the situation we’re in.

It’s eighteen miles to Des Moines now I don’t know if I can walk that far. A Verizon van is pulled over on the side of the road. Where’s that Musac Van? There are absolutely no other vehicles around. If we live through this, I’m sending this page to the Saturn people!
Our Saturn Outlook is crunching its way along slowly now, through some pretty deep stuff and it’s holding steady against these strong winds.
We made it to a gas station! Yea! There’s a snowplow filling up here. Maybe we can bribe him into plowing in front of us all the way to Osage! Heck, we’ll play for all his kid’s weddings!

We’re still plugging along now on the I-35 north. We’ve seen several vehicles, which have skidded off the road. Frank’s now listening to “Gang Busters.” Not enough adventure, eh? Wise guy, eh?
We just saw a lighted sign with blizzard warnings in Northern and Central Iowa. Wait a minute! That’s where we’re going, and it was supposed to be clear up there! With 100 miles to go, if we make it, we’re playing that concert tonight even if it’s just for the snowplow guy!

I’m starting to fanaticize about that hammock in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. It’s the one over the warm sand with the gentle ocean waves nearby. There’s a cold, wet bottle of local beer in my hand, which is drooping over the side. I’m looking up at the underside of a Coconut Palm. My bikini fits, and actually looks good on me!

Sally! Snap to! Keep your eye on the road and help Frank! Sometimes big daredevil trucks pass us creating this enormous cloud so we can’t see. We’ve got to be nuts. I just asked Frank, which is harder, this, or the Monarch Pass over the Rockies? He said this, definitely. He’s been on total alert for four hours now. The winds are blowing us sideways at maybe 50mph creating whiteout with blowing snow. We’re now listening to “Prairie Home Companion,” and it’s a welcome and fun diversion. Whoopee!

We have a concert tonight. I think. We had a concert last night. Maybe tonight when we’re playing with our eyes closed, people will just think we’re inspired!

We made it to our Super 8 here in Osage. Hallelujah! The wind is whipping by our little window in our room, which looks out onto a giant snowdrift. We’re inside! We’re safe! There were people in the lobby who had to stay an extra night due to the weather. They said all the hotels along our route today were full, due to stranded motorists. We did see lots of abandoned and spun out cars. The concert is still scheduled, so we’ll see who shows up. The family we met in the lobby said they might come. It’s in a church. That’s good. I’ve got some thankin’ to do!

Some people actually showed up tonight! Mostly from a five block radius. We rocked that old Methodist church! Lots to tell, But I think I’ll rest for a spell. Good times….

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: February 16, 2008 Ottumwa, Iowa

2008-02-16T22:12:00.000-08:00

After a 250 -mile drive here in the sun, we thought we were sitting pretty. Somehow well rested, we checked into our Super 8 and then into our concert venue. What a place! It’s an enormous $46,000,000 dollar complex, and that’s not including the piano. The brand new nine-foot Steinway when it’s not being played is enshrined in a special temperature-controlled room with all kinds of gizmos to humidify and de-humidify. I was asked to sign the wall of that room, along with others who have performed on it there.

The blue skies we had been experiencing had changed to an ominous grey. There’s a winter storm warning in effect for tonight and tomorrow. The symphony scheduled for tomorrow here is now cancelled. What if we braved it all the way to Osage tomorrow, 200 miles away, and they cancelled it? Tomorrow will be our first big decision of the tour.

We played tonight, ironically, to a nice small group despite the complex, which could hold a fleet of battleships. They were very proud of their new Steinway, which was paid for by individual donations. A woman who was there tonight had gone to New York to the factory especially to pick it out. It was truly new and beautiful. The audience was wonderful, as well. Lots of hands went up tonight when I asked how many of them had taken piano lessons.

Back at the Super 8, we stepped out of our car in the pouring, freezing rain. We practically needed ice skates to get to the hotel room! The Weather Channel always makes a big deal of everything for news sake. Let’s see if they’re right about tomorrow. If so, the one smoke-free room we have in this whole hotel might be our new home for a while…

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: February 15, 2008 Ottawa, Ill.

2008-02-15T21:33:00.000-08:00

I’m sitting in the car looking out into a cornfield while Frank is inside a UPS terminal just outside of Bellville, Ill. There’s a stray shipment of CDs that didn’t make it to us yesterday, so he tracked it, and thankfully, we’ve got them for tonight’s concert. Last night, we were out of several titles, and people get frustrated if we play something that they can’t buy. So, last night being Valentines Day, I changed up the show a bit by playing things we did have. No shortage of love songs here! It was kind of fun alternating pieces for our show; there was a fresh feeling, all the way down to wearing the red dress for the first time.

What a contrast last night’s concert was to the one before! It was in one of these modern churches with a state-of-the-art sound system, all kinds of colorful lighting and spots, no windows, and what looked like a Kawai grand piano, but was electric! I was proudly shown the large array of orchestration and rhythm choices on its control panel. I had to adjust quickly. I have to admit, I know how to use this stuff and it was tempting. Frank said absolutely not, because there wasn’t enough time to practice with it. The sound and lighting guy, Neal, was really knowledgeable and lead the praise band at this church. He said he played for many years in the nightclub scene and was happier in this environment. I’ll bet!

Playing last night to this audience of about 150, I couldn’t decide if it felt like a sanctuary or a rock concert. Neal creatively faded from blues to reds to single white spots. I’m sure it was flattering, because it was dark. Good thing we had practiced this new stuff tonight, because I couldn’t see a thing on the keyboard! Also, good thing I didn’t experiment with any of those buttons! Frank is wise.

Neal presented us with two CDs and a DVD video of our concert! I’m glad I didn’t know he was recording us. How absolutely wonderful of him, and it also says a lot about this church’s capabilities. Some time when I get the nerve, I’ll watch it. Frank is happy, because it captures “My Funny Valentine,” which I played solo as a gift to him that night.

Our CD table was teaming with activity. I guess this was a fresh shopping opportunity for these folks in the Chester area. As I was signing left and right, there were some interesting comments/complements directed at me: One woman said, “At first I didn’t take you seriously….” Another woman interjected, “Why, because she’s good-looking?” the first woman continued, “I don’t know, but you WERE seriously good after all.”
An older woman said, ”You may not be that sensational of a pianist, but you’ve got that thing going between you and your husband, and you gave a great show!” I thanked her, I think… Actually, she’s right. I know my place in the world of truly great pianists. Van Clyburn or Andre Watts I am not, but I compose, arrange, teach and perform the music I love. I have never taken for granted all the opportunities given me to have my special place in the music world.

Chester, Ill. is the proud home of Popeye and friends. There are adorable, colorful murals on buildings all over town with the characters we know and love. It was Popeye that got me eating spinach as a kid. Sound familiar? As it happens, the writer was from Chester, and the characters real. Popeye was actually a sailor on the Mississippi River. There was a big canning factory there, too, although the writer didn’t add the spinach to the mix until he got to California. There are even Wimpy burgers in Chester that Frank dearly wanted.

The minister at the church where we played told us that there are lots of fights in Chester, with the High School kids especially. It seems to be a long standing tradition. That explains all of the elaborate fight scenes in Popeye!
Safety tip: If you have a disagreement in Chester, eat your spinach!

In one of the fake endings in our show last night, I played “Popeye the Sailor Man.” The audience roared! We had a good time in Chester.

We made it to Ottawa, and played our concert tonight at a high school that may as well have been a music conservatory! The hall was exquisite, dating back to the early 1900’s, and the piano was a reconditioned Steinway circa 1916. Wow! I wasn’t expecting that from a high school! Their bands, choirs and ensembles have won first place state awards for 13 years running. They even have eight or so practice rooms with Yamaha pianos. I want to go there! Oh, and there’s artwork in all the hallways, not just any artwork, but museum masterpieces from all over the world.

Brad, the sound and lighting guy, couldn’t have been more professional. He took care of major business quickly, and knew his stuff. There was a pride at this school for the arts that I had never seen before in a high school and envied.

Many people came from far away to see us tonight. I can thank Frank for putting these concerts in our newsletter. Also, this concert association was smart and gave away free tickets to students. Yes, finally! We had the biggest crowd ever, and we got a shot in the arm from the audience tonight. They cheered and whistled! More concert associations should do that. It’s win/win for everyone. These associations are looking for younger members, but word needs to get out to these campuses where the concerts are, so students can come and eventually join. Also, performers like a full house. There are always extra seats.

I was informed at intermission that the shootings at Northern Illinois University were within a one-hour drive from this venue, and there were many people in the audience who were directly affected. I needed to acknowledge that for sure, so I walked out and played “The Prayer” after saying a few words. It was hard. This is one of those times it was better to express myself through music because there are no words to describe these feelings. Gently, the pace picked up after that and we went on with our show.

We probably stayed afterwards talking to people and signing CDs for the longest so far on this tour. We were very grateful for everything tonight. We’re exhausted, but we’re elated, too.

It’s beddy-bye time, because tomorrow is another concert, in Ottumwa, Iowa. It’s another long day of driving, navigating, packing, unpacking, hotels, sound checks, loading, unloading, practicing and performing. It’s these great audiences and our good spirits that keep us going. Thank you, everybody!

DAY TWENTY-SIX: February 14, 2008 Chester, Illinois

2008-02-14T21:35:00.000-08:00

We had a romantic morning at the Wall Mart here in Chester. Frank was sneaking around trying to buy me flowers, while I was having fun trying to pick out the most tacky card I could find for him. It was sweet seeing all those last-minute shoppers in there, mostly men. The flowers to choose from were rather sad looking, but there was love in the air! One guy, (let’s just call him Billy Joe Bob), had loaded a cart full of stuff for his girlfriend, but then changed his mind, and ended up with just one balloon. Lots of guys walk around here in camouflage outfits and big boots. I wouldn’t want to be a little wild critter in these parts! There is also a big prison and a mental institution in town as well.
We’re playing in a church tonight. It’s the biggest venue in town, and practically next door to our hotel. It will be an interesting change of pace.

Today we had a little free time; so we both went to Main Street to get our hair trimmed. That’s where you find out the real scoop on a town. I remarked that their indoor plants were doing well, and my stylist said they thrive on gossip! We heard stories of the crazy people that walk in there. Hmmmm…actually she did a nice job on both of us, and we had a good time.

We ate Mexican food for lunch (too exotic for some of these folks), and it was good! They did have French fries on the menu though, probably to stay in business.

We got back to the room so I could try on my red gown that I haven’t worn yet this trip. I was saving it just for today, Valentines Day. Phew! It still fit, even after eating road food all this time. The back is a complicated series of crises-crossing laces and ties that poor Frank had to figure out. I said, “come on, Frank, you were in the Coast Guard!” He did some kind of a sheepshank knot and I couldn’t get it off! Luckily, he finally figured it out. That’s why tonight may be the only night for that dress.

Day 26 means we’re halfway through our 52-day odyssey! We’re not halfway through our concerts, though. Out of 37 (they tacked one more on for high-school students) we’re doing concert number 15 tonight. The second half of our tour we have fewer days off.
Well, this was my break today. Now it’s time to get ready for tonight’s show…

It’s now after the show and it’s Valentines Day back at the Best Western. We created our own atmosphere, with candles, flowers, incense, and wine. I’ll tell you more about Chester and tonight’s concert in the car tomorrow…..

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: February 13, 2008 Trip to Chester, IL

2008-02-13T21:21:00.002-08:00

On the road again… we’re either truckers or troubadours; take your pick.

We just got out of a friendly McDonalds. Some young kid held open the door for me! While I was in the rest room, Frank got us two coffees to go, and the woman automatically gave him a senior discount! Oh, dear. Aren’t we a cute couple, now!

We’re in great spirits today because we spent the night in the most cloud-like bed ever, after some home-cooked meals at Suzy and Frank’s house.
Much of the drive there was under ice-laden trees with underbrush and crystallized grass sparkling in the sun. There had been an ice storm for hundreds of miles that we somehow missed. What had been a nightmare for so many, including power outages, hundreds of trees being severely damaged and road closures, for us was a sparkling, crystal wonderland!

There was Suzy, standing in front of her house which sits on four and a half acres of open paradise, waving frantically for us to find her driveway. A familiar face! Dear friends we haven’t seen for five years! After big hugs and a few tears, we entered their cozy home built into the hillside hungry and exhausted. By this point in the tour, we were more like a couple of stray dogs than houseguests. We couldn’t believe the huge changes they had made; from the California beach scene to the fields of Kansas! Their house is less than ten years old, is beautiful, and overlooks a lake that catches the sunset. They scored a great value for their money, and they’re lovin’ it. The people there seem to be lovin’ them, too. No wonder. We’re so happy for them.

After some much-need love and attention that afternoon, we left for Joplin, MO., just 30 miles away to check into our venue. It was a large hall in a College that also held an annual International Piano Competition. A perfectionist who wanted me to be totally happy, and was willing to stick around to make sure, was still tuning the nine-foot Steinway. The National Symphony had played in this hall recently, as it held over 1200 seats.
This was one of those intimidating situations that I wasn’t sure I deserved. This was serious! Would the audience laugh at my silly stuff? Was my piano technique up to snuff? We practiced, as usual, with the tuner standing by. I’m sure he has heard all the really great pianists of our day.

In the first half of the concert, I quietly apologized to the piano for not being as good as one of those top-flight competitors who plays on it every year. The audience was responsive and I couldn’t believe it! Suzy and Frank were in the front row, and Frank’s big, hearty laughs were encouraging.
Something strange and wonderful happened in the second half: I started to relax, and then the piano began leading ME, as if saying, ” let me show you what I can do with this piece.” I was taken for an incredible ride! I feel last night that maybe our musicianship rose to a new level. What an honor it was to play under those circumstances. The tuner stood backstage for the whole show, and I told the audience that he was standing by to fix any of my wrong notes!

We had a great sleep back at Suzy and Franks, and woke up to a gourmet breakfast with good, strong Starbucks coffee. We wish we could have stayed longer, but today’s drive was almost 400 miles. We pulled away from their log driveway, all of us waving until out of sight.

We’re now resting at the Best Western in Chester, Ill. It turned out to be a seven-hour drive, including a missed turnoff and some windy roads across the entire state of Missouri. We missed the ice storms and the snowstorms by one day. Someone’s looking after us up there!
No concert tonight, thank goodness! Good
Night
All

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: February 13, 2008 Trip to Chester, IL

2008-02-13T21:21:00.000-08:00

DAY TWENTY-FOUR: February 12, 2008 Joplin, MO.

2008-02-13T19:00:00.000-08:00

I did some typing on this day, and somehow, it got erased! SO, today is really day 25, but I’m pretending it’s yesterday. We got up at 6:00 am and left for Pittsburg, Kansas, where we were staying with Suzy and Frank Butorac, our dear friends from Venice Beach, California who up and moved to Kansas last year. After twenty-some years of renting, they were looking to buy, but the cost of something in L.A. was out of sight. They ended up buying a house out here in Pittsburg, Kansas, and we were about to find out why.

The route 400 was crazy! It’s a two-lane road with cars and trucks passing each other like dare devils. It was NOT relaxing! I longed for that Muzac van we saw on the Monarch Pass in Colorado. There was ice and snow everywhere, but at least the road was somewhat dry.

Frank suddenly pulled off on one of the icy side roads. Why can’t guys just “hold it” like women can? Women are so efficient, while guys need either that breathtaking view, or some sort of adventure to mark their spot. I warned Frank that a pickup was coming up right beside us, and he said, “don’t worry, he’s a guy. He’ll understand.” Being satisfied that by melting some of that ice he helped to improve road conditions, we pulled back out and on our way. It was snowing sideways now.

We made it to Suzy and Frank’s house and collapsed. That’s about all I wrote yesterday.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Feb.11, 2008 Hutchinson, Kansas

2008-02-11T21:22:00.000-08:00

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Feb.11, 2008 Hutchinson, Kansas

Starbucks got me out of bed, and I’m sitting here at a wobbly table with a very full cup of coffee. The speaker is right above me again, this time playing SOUL music. I love that stuff! Today we’ll do much-needed things like laundry (we splurge and get fluff and fold), a trip to the bank, and hopefully a manicure and pedicure. My hands are pathetic at this point; I use Krazy Glue for my broken and split nails from playing so much. Our concert’s at 7:30 and we’ve got it down to showing up three hours prior. In that time, we do sound and lighting check, arrange the stage to how we like it, practice and get acquainted with the piano and get CDs set up in the lobby. Some audience members come as early as an hour before, so I like to be off the stage by then. That’s when I go back to whatever dressing area I’ve been given, and take my sweet ol’ time transforming into the person they’re about to see. So, We’re free until 4:30 today!

Frank just got off the phone with Paul Swanstrom, the guy who found my tape at a garage sale, and got this whole thing started. He was worried about what he’d gotten us into. He knows a lot of touring artists, and said, “nobody does that many concerts back-to-back!” Frank reassured him that we’re doing fine so far, one third of our way through. Maybe we’ll break some kind of record!

Yesterday started out pretty tough, I’ll admit. After playing a concert the night before. We had to get up and be on the road by 6:00am for a 179 mile drive to make a 2:00 Matinee. At times like these, we just say, “this is the hardest part.”

But Kansas keeps kicking us in the pants! We CAN’T be tired! We’d miss something! Our drive yesterday morning was graced with the most beautiful sunrise we’ve ever seen. First, there was a hint of “the dawn’s early light,” and then this big, orange ball emerged from the horizon, slowly spotlighting the brown fields with a glowing gold. The sky seems to go on forever here. When something looks as if it’s only a few miles away, it turns out to be more like thirty or forty!

We made it to Concordia in plenty of time. Frank calls this “cruise control country.” Rolling into this town of about 6,000 people, we decided to take a driving tour of the whole place. There were some very contrasting neighborhoods, for sure. Our venue was on Main Street, and looked like a historic old theatre. “That’s a nice change of pace,” I thought. When we entered, my jaw dropped to the floor. It wasn’t just any old theatre; it was THE BROWN GRAND THEATRE. It might as well have been Carnegie Hall. I couldn’t believe we had the privilege of performing in the most beautiful, elegant theatre I have ever seen! There was gold and brass everywhere, box seats with antique green velvet chairs, two balconies with their own separate lounges full of historic marquis, and “The Napoleon Drape,” a mural covering the whole stage which was a gift to Napoleon Bonaparte Brown from his son Earl on opening night, Sept. 17, 1907. That mural lifted, by the caretaker, Amanda, to make sure the gorgeous seven-foot Mason & Hamlin piano was to my liking.

Yikes! I was tired. WE were tired. We couldn’t be, just yet. This was the opportunity of a lifetime! We were lead back to our adorable dressing rooms backstage on the creaky wooden floor. Later I discovered a cool little wooden staircase that went up to the rafters. Frank wasn’t around. I couldn’t resist climbing it, even in my gown and high heels. I had to back down, carefully, in time to walk out on stage for my first number.
The place was packed! I have to admit I was a little nervous this time, because I wanted to live up to this Hall. My imagination had the audience being full of New York critics, or people from Julliard!
They applauded. They laughed. They were Kansas folk! During my opening talk, (always after playing the first two pieces), I confided that I’ve always been an East Coast/West coast person. This for me was one of the “fly over” states. I said I would never think that again, and the next time I look out my little airplane window at that flat land below, I’ll think,” Wow! There’s some really good stuff down there!”
The audience caught my sincerity and applauded.

At the intermission I told Frank that I was fighting fatigue and was struggling sometimes with concentration. Frank had the same problem. Then, I took on the coach role: I said to both of us, “ This is the final touchdown, with bases loaded, and one foul shot to go!” (We laughed at how dumb we are about sports.) Then I switched to a game we DO know something about… Ping Pong! I said, “Look Frank, it doubles, and it’s our add. We can win this!”

We pulled it together the second half, and just when we went out for our encore some woman yelled, “Play Over the Rainbow!” Frank stepped back as I closed my eyes in thought. Then what came out just flowed through my fingers, effortlessly. Frank was misting up over there. I love that about him. That was a moment I will never forget in my life.

We drove here to Hutchinson last evening, after the show, ending our day with a glorious sunset to keep us company the entire way. We were finally allowed to be tired.

Tonight’s concert was in another historic building. We probably had the biggest crowd yet, including lots of younger people. The piano was a nine-foot Steinway, and I totally fell head-over-heals in love with it! At rehearsal I kept making up songs, and I couldn’t part with it long enough to go get dressed. I’d gladly live simply and give up a lot of things just to have a piano like that! Our house needs a new roof, but who cares? One can always dream…

After the show it was wonderful to see so many families, with kids of all ages who play an instrument of some sort. These kids were into it! I told one young teenager that if he kept up his piano, he would be a “chick magnet.” He smiled slyly at me and gave me thumbs up. Well, I was on a roll! I said the same thing to another kid, maybe a little younger, and he bowed his head and slinked away, Oops! How embarrassing!
I miss all my students. I hope some of them are reading this. Keep playing, you guys! And girls!

Tomorrow we have a long drive to Pittsburg, Kansas, where we’re staying with some dear friends, to play a concert in Joplin, Missouri. Better catch some shut-eye.ZZzzzzz

DAY TWENTY- TWO: Feb.10, 2008 Concordia, Kansas

2008-02-10T18:41:00.001-08:00

I’m too pooped to write tonight. Let’s just say it was one of the best days of our tour so far. Tomorrow I’m staying in this bed until the afternoon! There’s a Starbucks next door, and we made it to Hutchinson tonight. No traveling tomorrow! So, we’ll catch up tomorrow over some good Java. Stay tuned! ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

DAY TWENTY- ONE: Feb. 9, 2008 Pratt, Kansas

2008-02-09T21:54:00.000-08:00

We’re traveling to Pratt this morning. It’s around 200 miles, or about 378,234 telephone polls to our destination. The Kansas people are proud of their big horizons. No trees or mountains to get in the way of their beautiful sunrises. Driving out here is like being on a boat out in the vast ocean, except it’s brown grass instead of blue water. Big silos grace the sky like ships.
Every so often the rolling hills and fields turn completely brown with cattle. There’s a distinct smell that means different things to different people. We’re in cow country, for sure!

We hate to rub it in for all our Northwest friends, but it’s winter, and there’s lots of sun here! In fact, today is 53 degrees and for the past few days we’ve been out taking walks. We wear sunglasses in the car, and have our visors down. My face is sunburned! I probably shouldn’t speak too soon… Mother Nature may quickly change her mind!

Following the yellow-brick road, route 56, we decided to stop in Dodge City, “Gun Smoke” country. We saw lots of interesting western buildings with businesses having a definite Mexican flair. Apparently, their presence here is historic, because some of the older buildings are Mission-style.
It was tricky “Getting outta Dodge.” Really! Maybe they arrange their roadway exits that way on purpose.

We just drove through what was Greensburg, Kansas. The devastating tornado that hit this town was on the news worldwide about a year ago. It was astonishing! All we saw was rubble, piles of rocks, and trees with all their limbs pruned off from the wind. There were only a few sporadic brick buildings that had survived. A banner read, “ Thank You, Worldwide.”
We’re almost to Pratt now. This is the city, which took in all those refugees from Greensburg. I like these people already.

At one point today, we were only 50 miles from Liberty, Kansas. That was Dorothy’s home in the “The Wizard Of OZ.” I want to watch that movie again now. Kansas has its own special feel, and we’re into it. We even have a dog like Toto at home. (sniff!)

Yes! We’ve got Internet here! We just got in a review from one of our concerts in Colorado. We were touched. Here it is… we thought we’d share it with you:
Concert Review of SALLY HARMON and
Frank Gruner

Performed Tuesday, February 5th, 2008 at the Delta Center for the
Performing Arts and Education
by Charlie Huff

Dear friends of family-centered performing arts, it seems that each time I sit down to write up a review of the previous evening's DMCCA concert performance, I am lost for sufficient superlatives to describe the unique beauty or inspiration or just pure fun that was brought to our stage by the artists and entertainers who travel to Delta at the invitation of the Association. And it was no exception once again with last night's (5th of Feb.) piano concert performed by Sally Harmon and her husband, Frank Gruner, who accompanied her on the bass guitar for a number of her selections.

I suppose I could best describe this concert as one of pure delight and inspiration--a simply joyfully fun experience. Sally's masterful skills at the keyboard had their beginnings at the tender age of 3 on a child's toy piano (which she included in the performance of one of her own compositions for that purpose). And she plays today with a childlike enthusiasm of that little girl who had just discovered the joy of making music at a piano.

The beautiful and lively music combined with her uniquely enthusiastic delivery made for one of the most enjoyable concert experiences I, personally, and a great majority of our audience--by their own post-concert comments--have ever had.

I suppose I could give you some biographical and professional history of Sally and Frank, each who were professionals in the music and entertainment business before meeting and marrying. However, suffice it to say that their amusing love story and some 24 years of marriage have produced a great team and years of beautiful music which have surely brought enjoyment and inspiration to many through their personal performance tours and their 22 CD's and a concert DVD.

It was our privilege as members and friends of the Delta-Montrose Community Concert Association to hear them live in concert last night. Once again, it seems I must say I am truly sorry if you were unable to be there. Indeed you missed a great evening!

We don’t get that many reviews, for some reason. This one really got us, though. We don’t spend a lot of time with newspapers, TV stations, or the like. Sometimes we just luck out when someone’s being nice. At least this tells you that we’re really DOING this tour!

Tonight went well. We played in a Community College in their auditorium, while at the same time there was a big basketball game going on in their sports arena. Yamaha piano. Because I have one at home and I record on them, it’s a super comfortable situation.

There were two women, Annette and Pat, who had traveled all the way from Dallas, Texas to be there tonight! What a cheering section we had! The announcer gave them the microphone before we started, and they told their story of how and why they started following us. Wow! When I finally walked out on stage I hoped we could live up to all they had said about Frank and me. I floated through the first half, buoyant because they had read all of the blog, and gotten everyone in their office reading it, too!

We’re in a focused mode now. It’s almost midnight, and we have to get up by 6:00AM and drive 200 miles, (that’s 2,465 Telephone polls), then play a Matinee at 2:00PM in Concordia, Kansas. I’d better turn in. Pillow top mattress. That will help. Wish us luck!

DAY 20: Feb.8, 2008 Johnson City, Kansas

2008-02-09T11:46:00.000-08:00

It looks like we’re traveling more like 300 miles today. We also loose an hour going east over a time zone. I’m in the passenger seat watching telephone polls go by. We go many miles without seeing another vehicle, or any signs of life at all. There’s plenty of tumbleweed, though. We’ve also seen an assortment of enormous birds. Maybe they’re eagles, or chicken hawks, or owls. Every 10 or 15th pole, there sits one.

We have a concert tonight. Being tired is not an option today. Frank is driving, steady as she goes.
We’ve got Jack Benny on XM radio. He’s been the inspiration for so many comedians! I got a chance to see him when I was a kid at the Shoreham Blue Room in Washington, D.C. His timing, and his relaxed style took me. I think I’ve listened to and seen almost everything he’s ever done.
While I’m on the subject, I should say I grew up in the D.C. area with culture and the arts abound. My parents took me to everything, including the ballet, the opera, every Broadway musical that came to town, and weekly trips to the museums. My biggest memory was of seeing Victor Borges when I was about nine or so. I never laughed so hard in my life! I learned that it was OK to joke around at the piano, as well as play like a Maestro. I think classical composers joked around sometimes too, because on occasion they made fun of each other in their compositions.
I have to thank my parents for the amazing opportunities they gave me, as well as world travel from a young age. Even now, when they aren’t on some sort of world travel adventure, they’re going to concerts in the D.C. area several times a week.
All of a sudden, I’m not tired anymore. I get jazzed about subjects like that. The telephone poles are still whizzing by, maybe I should rest a little now.
Frank has actually done all of the driving for this tour so far. He meditates sometimes for rest. It’s amazing. He never complains. The fuel that keeps us going and in good spirits is the enormous positive feedback and encouragement we’re getting from everyone. Thank you all so much for your emails, applause, and kind words.

Johnson City is a town of about 1,200. It’s the smallest town so far on our journey. The one motel, The Rest Well, is a small brick building with old-style adequate comforts. We strolled down Main street, (about three blocks), and found a charming place called The Old Store. It had genuine old Coca Cola memorabilia and a wall of beautiful cabinets holding things like an old-fashioned milkshake maker that we saw being used for this yummy home made shake. For us, instead, the ladies made two chef salads generously piled high with everything they had in their kitchen. We were being good today.
We felt like characters in Thornton Wielder’s “Our Town.” A little bell rang on the swinging door as people came and went, and everyone knew each other. We were obviously not from there, but people recognized us from the flyer and were planning to come to our concert that night. One young woman even decided at that point to bring her five-year-old daughter.

There she was, a little girl named Sky sitting in the front row. We were about to play her favorite song, “Linus and Lucy.” I could see her legs bopping up and down, as she crinkled her snacks bag. There were more families than usual at our concert tonight, and even though this big High School auditorium was far from filled, the people there had a wonderful energy. Frank estimated the audience to be about a hundred. Sometimes hall capacities don’t really reflect the size of these concert organizations. We’ve grown used to that. For this small town, we had a pretty good turnout. Some people drove for quite a distance to be there. The piano was a very well kept Baldwin nine-footer. Frank usually sits in the wings and watches me when he’s not playing. I can see him back there, through the piano, tapping his foot or smiling. This time, however, he did a really goofy dance during one of my pieces! I could hardly contain myself, and if I dared glance at him I was in trouble!
The people in this town couldn’t have been nicer. They lingered for quite a while afterwards, and I signed lots of CDs.

There’s no Internet at our little place here, so you’ll have to get this tomorrow.

There’s no place like HOME.
There’s no place like HOME.
There’s no place like HOME,
at the Rest Well motel.

DAY NINETEEN: Canon City, Colorado

2008-02-07T23:16:00.000-08:00

We’re starting to base our hotel choice mostly on the quality of the mattress. That’s what it boils down to; a good nights sleep. Good moods for both of us this morning. Pillow top mattress. There’s also a view of the mountains from my window here at the Quality Inn.
That’s an added bonus. We don’t care anymore about the complementary continental breakfasts; Frank calls the food “sludge,” and I loose my appetite. Also, as you may have gathered so far, we’re “coffee snobs.” We had a bit of a trial this morning to get our much-needed good first cup of coffee. We bought ground Starbucks to make our own at each stop, but we left the special filters in the last hotel. Frank tried to improvise with our room’s coffee maker using toilet paper. What a mess! After a trip to the Wall Mart next door, Frank made us happy again.
You can probably tell by now whether I’m writing under the influence of coffee or Chardonnay. It’s morning, so we’re good.

Some of you have inquired about some of the nuts and bolts of our trip. Here’s what we do, and here’s what we’ve learned:
Safety tips:
1. Don’t fall off the stage! Really. When scoping out each new venue, some orchestra pits blend right in with the color of the stage. Of course, there are no railings. Look Out!
2. Don’t slip on the ice. It’s that first step getting out of the car. Everywhere!
3. Don’t lock the keys in the car. We had extra keys made for this reason. Survival gear in sub-zero temperatures doesn’t do you much good if it’s locked inside the car!
4. Don’t talk on the phone while trying to navigate. We’ve added some mileage in the wrong direction because of that.
Our Car:
We’re driving a 2008 Saturn Outlook with all-wheel drive and we love it. We flew to Chicago and rented it there. After an 8000-mile loop, we’ll return it to the same place and fly back. After two weeks of snow, salt, sand and ice, we finally washed it and it’s black again. We’ve gone through several gallons of wiper fluid so far.
Clothes:
We sweet-talk dry cleaners to do my gowns the same day. I’m hard on clothes. If you’ve seen me on stage, you’ll know why. Add warm spotlights to that. On non dry cleaning days, Frank steams by gowns before each performance with a hand-held steamer we bought. (Frank grew up in a family of dry cleaners and knows his stuff!)
Our day clothes are pretty utility. Let’s put it this way: there’s quite a transformation from rehearsal to concert.
Today we’re at concert #10, and I still have two gowns packed that I haven’t worn yet.

Now I’ll fill you in about these Community Concerts we’re doing everywhere:
The Community Concert Series is something anyone can join in all these towns across America. It’s a bargain. For $35.00, one gets the whole season, including four to seven concerts. That’s as little as $5.00 per concert! (At least I’m not sweating how much these people paid to see me!) They have a board of volunteers who takes care of everything from choosing the acts for the season to all that goes on behind the scenes for each concert. We’re finding that the average number of subscribers for each town is about 400 to 800 people.
Allied Concert Services presents each town on this series with a choice of 40 different acts. The board members get to make the decision for the following year’s series based on their budget. Usually they like variety from year to year, so it would be unusual for us to play at any of these 36 stops next year. (Yes, we would LOVE to do this again next year! We just have to see what happens, and how many other venues Allied services.)
We are amazed at the fact that we got such an extensive tour! Maybe we were just the right price! (By the way, we are paid the same for each concert whether we have a crowd or not. That was comforting on Super Bowl Sunday!) One more thing: we cover our own expenses and we like it that way.

The audiences we’re experiencing are of all ages, including families. Just think of the group you would find at symphony pops concerts, the ballet, or the opera. There is a fair amount of people in their golden years, too. These people are NOT to be underestimated. They know their stuff! They are also kind, gentile, dressed up, and fun-loving. They are usually not the downloading type, so they generously purchase CD’s, knowing they won’t find us in their local record store. Are there even any record stores anymore?

Canon City is nestled in one of the most beautiful parts of the country. Interestingly enough, one of its biggest industries is the prison industry! There are 13 of them in this small town, including a prison museum. The other is tourism, and it’s easy to see why with all there is to do here, including The Royal Gorge. My only complaint is that the traffic lights seem to take their sweet ol’ time.

We walked along the River Walk today for miles on this glorious 46-degree sunny day. We so needed that! We also had lunch with Brian Konty, the son of a good friend of ours in Portland. He gave us some interesting facts about this area, as well as recommended one of the best burgers so far.

The concert tonight was in a church this time. We had to re-configure our show to accommodate the seating, and our performing area. It worked out fine, in fact, amazingly well. Being a smaller venue, the place was packed! Also, we were playing just three or four feet away from the front row. Naturally, with no stage lighting, the house lights were up slightly. We saw people smiling, tapping their feet, and being attentive. Little comments people made were audible to us. There was also the faint smell of incense.
These people blew us away! When you have an audience like that, it’s worth a lifetime of practice and all the rigors of this tour. Comments that people made after the show were so heartwarming, intelligent and specific that I thought I’d died and gone to heaven! Well, we were close; we were in a church! We had record CD sales for our tour so far. I love this town!

The next few days will be challenging. It’s as if we’re doing a Marathon and this is the long, uphill stretch. Tomorrow we travel 250 miles to Kansas, and play a concert that very night. The four days after that will be similar. We’ll be back in flat country, though, and hopefully the driving will be less treacherous if maybe a little less dramatic. We’ll see.
I have to wake up Frank to publish this blog by today. Well, Goodbye Colorado! We’ll be back!

DAY EIGHTEEN: Feb.6, 2008 Drive to Canon City, CO.

2008-02-06T20:17:00.001-08:00

I got away with it! Frank let me publish my blog last night without censoring! The trick is to do it in bed when he’s half asleep, then hand over the computer and say, “Hurry! Get this posted in the next three minutes before midnight!”
We’re in the Best Western breakfast room and it’s 7:15 AM. The room is full of big guys in cowboy hats and suspenders holding up some serious dungarees.
I just showed Frank the blog from last night, and he let out a loud, falsetto laugh breaking the low-key reverence of these truckers with their morning coffee. Heads turned. Yikes! We’ll be stranded on the Monarch Pass and we won’t stand a chance if they recognize us!

We just pulled out of Delta, and while looking for a much-needed car wash, Frank swerved into a pawnshop. A big, tough guy was standing outside smoking a cigarette. The sign said, ”Tools, Guns, and More.” Frank is hoping to find that dream 1958 Fender Jazz bass for a song, and then turn it around for a tidy profit. I’m glad he just came out alive.

We’re traveling on the route 50, a two-lane road that winds through the mountains. It’s windy, and –4 degrees. It’s overcast and snow blows in swilling motions over the road. Bluegrass music serenades us and it just fits. I can’t say I’m totally relaxed, there are almost no cars out here, and our only chance for gas is coming up soon, I hope.
We hit Cimarron, one gas station here. Shoot! A CLOSED sign! Then I saw a guy standing there. They turned the sign around to OPEN. Phew!
As we were filling up, Frank went in to use the facilities this time. Ice chunks in the toilet!
We’re driving again, and the roads are windy, snow-covered, and steep. No wonder Allied Concert Services had us go a different route. We’re taking this one on the suggestion of everyone in Delta. It’s much more direct. Boy, it’s hard to type with white knuckles! Lucky I’m only using two fingers.
A Musac van just passed us! How about that? I’m relaxed now.
Uh oh, I see buzzards in the road. Great. It’s snowing hard now. Frank just chimed in: Virgin snow is great on the ski slope, but not on Route 50!

We made it to Gunnison. Thank God. There we were walking around in a Safeway. It was weird. The big thing is getting over the Monarch pass. It’s open. Here we go!
We’re approaching it now and it’s snowing again with white roads. It’s 45 more miles to the next civilization. Wow! We just saw a herd of deer cross the road if front of us! Sadly, there’s one lying on the shoulder.
We just made it over the summit. It’s a blizzard now! I’ve got a lump in my throat, and Frank thinks all this is cool! He’s happy as a clam. We’re inching down a very steep grade behind the red flashing lights of a big truck. We’re totally out of cell phone range.
Thanks to our Safeway stop, we have provisions, and I have this computer to fret on. I also have all of you readers to keep me company, even if you read this after the fact.

It’s a miracle! We’re back in sun and dry roads! There’s scenery again! Yahoo! You Colorado people must think I’m a wimp. I am. It’s gloriously beautiful now. We’re driving to Salida and with every turn of the road the scenery becomes more and more breathtaking.
Salida was very artsy with interesting and unusual galleries. Frank treated himself to some new shoes as a reward for getting us safely over that pass. We ate at a homespun café with good food served by what Frank calls “Earth Mothers.”
The drive from there to Canyon City was unbelievable! The sun highlighted snow sprinkled cliffs, amazing rock formations, and the bright blue Arkansas River.
We took one important detour to The Royal George. Wow! The biggest suspension bridge in the world, and we had it all to ourselves! As we walked across and back, we had to hold onto each other not to be blown off. It was over 1,000+ foot drop through the narrow canyon to the river below. Cool!

Enough adventure for one day. We’re now in our hotel room in Canyon City and pretty wiped. Sometimes these days off can be more strenuous than concert days. Nice
Comfortable bed. Ahhhhhh…

DAY SEVENTEEN: Feb. 5, 2008 Delta, Colorado

2008-02-05T22:58:00.001-08:00

What a spectacular trip we had to Delta this morning! The sun was shining, and the snow was glistening on the mountain peaks, with accents of red and black cliffs like the Grand Canyon. I kept trying to take pictures through our dirty windows with Frank’s cell phone.
I don’t know if any camera could capture this!

We had to go miles and miles with no civilization or rest stops. Frank commented at the regular sign that comes up: “Don’t drink and drive.” He wants to change it to “Don’t drink COFFEE and drive.” In the interest of keeping this blog family-friendly, I’ll describe only vaguely what happened next: we pulled off on the shoulder of the road. No trees or rocks to hide behind. It took so long, I told Frank he would either get sunburn, or frostbite!

Delta is a sweet little town with friendly people, good coffee, and cool restaurants. It’s our style, for sure. We played our concert tonight at the performing arts center and everybody was on the case. We felt well taken care of, and Dave, the sound and lighting guy was terrific. Charlie was our piano tuner, volunteering his time, and also the concert association president. We had a lot of laughs with everybody all day. Then there was Leo, the man who unlocks doors, and so much more. An hour before the show he hands me this long pole, and explains it’s for Hercules, the rat that has been found in the dressing room area. He said, “just shoe him away with this, and don’t worry, he only wants food.”
I tried to keep my composure, and then he started laughing. He got me!
Charlie announced me in a top hat and tails. Minutes before the concert, we stood backstage and talked with us about his airplane experiences as a pilot.
There was lots of energy in this group, and the audience, too. We really enjoyed playing tonight, and they cheered.
Frank and I have learned that it comes down to this: Pretend we’re playing at the Marriott, and just have fun! Audiences seem to love the spontaneity, and they have fun, too. Yes, we work hard, and practice a lot. That’s a given. But on stage, cut loose!
Funky piano? Well, I’ve played worse. At least it was a beautiful walnut finish that matched my hair.
Today was a four-star day. Goodnight,all.

DAY SIXTEEN: Feb. 4. 2008 Traveling to Delta, CO

2008-02-04T20:59:00.000-08:00

OK, John Denver, we get it! Yes, we’re HIGH in the Rocky Mountains; by the altitude, the beauty, and the best beer we’ve ever tasted. It’s a different vibe here. There’s a lot of “beautiful people,” some hippie types, some tough looking mountaineers, and just people living “the good life.” (expensively.)

We were a bit weary after driving for many hours on Rt. 70 over the mountain passes in the ice and snow. Turning off in Glenwood Springs for some more windshield wiper fluid, the sun came out and we could see spectacular snow-covered cliffs and canyons. There, before our eyes was the most enormous steaming outdoor hot springs we had ever seen! Across from it was a beautiful Grand Dame of a hotel; The Hotel Colorado. We glanced at each other.

We’re staying here for the night, even though we have over 150 miles to go in iffy weather to our concert tomorrow.
We’re on a micro-mini vacation! I feel like a Countess here. The room is regal, the lobby grand, and I feel so well in this place that I think I was born in the wrong century.
We soaked in the biggest sulpher natural hot springs in the world, while looking up at snow-capped mountains.
We gave ourselves just a little carefree time and we so needed it.
Whatever happens tomorrow, today’s unplanned stop was worth it!

DAY FIFTEEN: February 3, 2008 Kimball, NE

2008-02-03T21:58:00.000-08:00

It’s 8:00A.M., and we found a Starbucks! Familiar surroundings. Ahhhh. Good strong Northwest coffee. More choices on sugar packet colors than pink and white, too. I’ll never take things like raw sugar for granted again. I’m sitting right under the speaker playing loud, peppy music. Cushy chair, though. We’re still in North Platte, a town big enough to have these luxuries. We’re heading on our way to Kimball, NE after being properly caffeinated. To us Portlanders, Starbucks is no big deal, but here; it’s a Godsend! Frank is peacefully reading the North Platte Telegraph uninterrupted by me.

For those of you who are reading this every day, thank you for all your responses! They mean so much to both of us. Allie commented that I’m writing a lot! No writer’s block here. It helps keep me centered and objective about this crazy schedule we’re keeping.

Some people have suggested that there’s a book here. (Maybe that’s a nice way of telling me that I’m going on and on…) For 25 years now I’ve wanted to write a book about my adventures in the profession I have chosen. I have lots of stories that span back 30+ years, but I don’t like to force them on people at dinner parties. If there’s a book, people can just read some, then put it down and go to sleep. What ‘cha think?

I’m thinking that fellow musicians and students could glean something out of this, too. I’m a businesswoman. Frank and I had to figure this music scene out on our own. It’s nice being married to a man who dedicates himself to the nuts and bolts of our business, as well as finding new markets for my music. Many times I’ll come up with artistic concepts for new projects, and Frank will do everything else to free me up so that I can be creative.
Maybe this proposed book could be a Business of Music textbook of sorts, sweetened with enough zany stories for the general public to enjoy.
When we get home I think I’ll keep writing, or I’ll go crazy from the let down. I’ll include flashbacks and tell the whole story, weaving in enough facts for music students to take note.

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. People have to choose between watching big guys bashing into each other, or some lady playing the piano. I confess I don’t know much about the game, but I like watching those guys butts in those shiny, colorful tight pants! I wish I could see their faces better, though.
I’ll have to doubly thank anyone who shows up tonight!

We played a really fun concert in this town of only 2,500. The piano was an old-timer, and one of those that required lots of magic marker. They’re getting a brand new one, but not yet. So, after thanking those that showed up tonight on Super Bowl Sunday, I said we’d give a glorious send-off to this old piano.

A woman came into my dressing room before the show with a gift for me. It was a beaded bookmark she hand made. She was so sweet, and so enthusiastic! She cheered throughout the whole show. I carried it on stage with me and placed it inside the piano. During the first piece, I realized that was what I needed to get me through all these concerts. My good luck charm! My pink Feather! I was flying!
The crowd was smaller than usual, but they were so into it!

Tomorrow is our longest drive of the trip. Delta, Colorado is 426 miles from here. No concert tomorrow, but many hours of driving in snow and ice in the Colorado mountains.
We’re leaving at the crack of dawn. I’d better turn in. Sweet dreams….

DAY FOURTEEN: Saturday, Feb. 2, 2008 North Platte, NE

2008-02-03T10:44:00.000-08:00

Oops, it’s today that’s Ground Hogs Day! I’ve lost all concept of time. I have no idea what day of the week it is. The only thing I know is by the end of this tour we’ll have collected enough hotel key cards to play Gin Rummy!

Before leaving for North Platte, we ate at an amazing place for lunch today. It’s called Taste Of Texas BBQ, in McCook, NE. There was good old-fashioned country music playing, (I actually liked it), and rancher-type folks wearing cowboy hats chowin’ down on what looked like enormous plates of food. It smelled good. This was no chain fast food restaurant. We ordered pork ribs, pulled pork, and barbequed beef.
Thankfully, the food arrived quickly. As we bit into our juicy, messy ribs, our eyes rolled back in our heads. Frank said,” Sally, don’t wipe your face, ‘cause I wanna lick it!”
This was by far the best meal we’ve had on the trip so.
I was looking around at the authentic Western décor, including stuffed mallard ducks in a display case and cowboy boots stuffed with silk flowers.
Frank cleaned his plate saying to the waitress that it’s the best barbeque he’s ever had. Frank, being from Southern Indiana, belongs to the Church of Barbeque. At his request, she was nice enough to reveal their cooking methods. I was trying hard to finish mine, but all I could keep going on was the baked potato. It wasn’t just any baked potato; it may have been the best in my whole life! Loaded with butter, sour cream, and real bacon bits, I discussed this nostalgic, homemade taste with Frank. I couldn’t believe it. I was weeping! We probably disrupted that place with our uncontrollable laughter. The waitress gave us two souvenir coffee mugs and sent us on our way with the best coffee of the trip so far.

This must be Baldwin country. Tonight I played on still another nine-footer. This Baldwin was older, and very bright sounding. It was a rock ‘n roll piano! Although hard to play subtly, it had a big, growly bass. This was our second night without the drum tracks. Except for a few technical difficulties with our sound people, the concert went really well.

There’s a kind of a phenomenon starting to go on here: the audience’s just keep getting more and more excited about what we’re doing. People ask me if I ever get tired. Because every night I play like there is no tomorrow, the only fatigue I sometimes feel is emotional. Frank keeps me straight, and I lean on him sometimes.
It’s beddy-bye time at the Ramada Inn. Dark blue walls tonight. Zzzzzzzzz

DAY THIRTEEN: Friday, Feb. 1, 2008 McCook, Nebraska

2008-02-02T08:40:00.000-08:00

The ground hog saw his shadow, at least here in McCook. If he were up on stage with us tonight, he definitely would! In contrast to yesterday’s state of the art theatre, today is an improvise day at a very old venue. There are metal folding chairs on the audience floor and stadium seating around the edges. As we were setting up, it looked like there was a seniors walking club going around and around the big shiny wood floor. I tried the piano, a beautiful nine-foot Baldwin, and broke into “Chariots of Fire” for them. It put
a spring in their step. They said they would walk for longer if I kept playing. Maybe some of these folks will be at the concert tonight. Tech and lighting here is minimal at best, and we have no sound or lighting person tonight!
OK, battle plan: we’re using the gold netting we brought with added little white lights for the stage. No drum tracks tonight.

Usually on our drive from place to place we discuss our show and keep refining it.
Frank and I were thinking the same thing: Let’s try it without the drum tracks tonight! As we’re getting more and more comfortable on stage, we’re finding that they are limiting our freedom. Frank sweats it every time he pushes the play button, not to mention they’re a pain to set up, with extra monitors, and varying volume levels, etc. for the sound person. We knew today at our venue that we’d have to practice without the drums and see how we felt about it. Would we lose some of the variety in the show?

No problem! With this venue situation it was meant to be. It’s a funky old auditorium, but with lively acoustics and a fabulous instrument to play on. I was looking forward to our newfound freedom tonight!

Next, the stage. We closed in the red curtain a bit, and cozied it up by making the stage shallower with a black curtain behind the piano. Now for the gold netting that worked so well in Rhinelander. Cindy, our contact person, went home and got us little white Christmas lights and I weaved them with the netting all across the stage front and stage back. Voila!

There was quite a commotion tonight with people arriving 75 minutes early saving blocks of seats. They saw me running around in jeans with no makeup.
Cindy announced us. She also gave me a credit for the beautiful stage, comparing it to a nightclub!

The concert was extra fun tonight. What people didn’t know what was missing, (the drum tracks) was made up for in a thrilling new energy up there. This was the first time I was even out of breath! The audience roared at our antics, and the piano sang. We had a good crowd and the lobby was packed with people sticking around to meet us and have their CDs signed.

We went out for a bite to eat with Cindy and her friend Nancy at a local place that kept the kitchen open just for us. Frank ordered his usual salad, trying to be good, while us ladies were indulging on enormous pieces of mud pie. Frank ordered oil and vinegar, a cup, and some Dijon mustard for his salad. In front of us he whipped up his vinegrette. We all laughed, and I told them he probably missed being in his kitchen.
At least I get a decorating fix on the stages at each venue. It will be interesting to see if this will influence my tastes at home. Let’s see… enormous red velvet curtains and multi-colored spotlights!

DAY TWELVE: Thursday, Jan. 31, 2008 Holdrege, NE

2008-02-01T07:49:00.000-08:00

After 12 days on the road now, wearing the same clothes every day with no makeup for travel, I was starting to feel like a hag. Frank? Same clothes? No problem. Just air them out. Thankfully, I packed a spare suitcase that was buried under one of the car seats with lots more clothes. We dragged it up to our second floor hotel room, and upon opening it, it was like Christmas! I feel giddy like one of those women on the Oregon Trail who just got a new bonnet!
I got all dressed up this morning to go downstairs to the lobby for the Super 8 complementary breakfast, just glowing. I made my toast, and poured my weak Midwest coffee while flicking back my beautiful silk scarf, to show off my gold earrings.

On the road, it’s important to keep things simple and prioritize. Our car is well organized with our show equipment and hanging bags for our concert clothes, and two small bags for our daily needs. Anything we leave in the car, including makeup, shampoo, fruit, water, etc. will be frozen solid the next morning, or within hours.
Today we have the luxury of a little time to do laundry. Hallelujah!

We left the hotel to go to the venue. The air carried the scent of cows.. We weren’t expecting much, here, in the middle of nowhere. However, much to our amazement, the venue would have suited the New York Philharmonic, or any large touring Broadway production. Some very professional and friendly people greeted us. As we entered the magnificent, grand doors, we saw a gigantic poster with my picture on it in the lobby. This place belonged in some big city, not Holdrege, Nebraska! The hall was huge and state of the art. The piano was a nine- foot Baldwin. There were four dressing rooms, showers, a green room, and extra pianos everywhere. I became a little nervous. Could we live up to this? The copy on the poster compared me to Liberace, George Winston, and Victor Borges, all rolled up into one dynamic woman. I took a deep breath.

We got everything set up and I was feeling pretty special. Then we found out that we had competition that night. Every concert does; mostly it’s sports events. This time, however, in a neighboring town, “The Brown Family” was performing. All five of their kids went to Julliard, and they perform with six grand pianos! They are pretty well known, and lots of subscribers were going to see them tonight instead of us. I wouldn’t have minded seeing them myself! So, this gorgeous hall that seats 1000+ would only be sprinkled with 300 people at best.
I said to myself, “OK, Sally, you’re on tour. You’re a pro. Roll with it.”

The piano, freshly tuned, even having met the tuner, started having problems only an hour before the show. If I used the soft pedal, the hammers would hit two notes instead of one! For those of you who don’t know pianos, it sounds like I’m playing with my fingers on the cracks instead of the keys! If that wasn’t enough, the nice tuning the man did was melting like an ice cream cone in the sun. Something was up with this Baldwin. I informed our contact person, Rachel. She was so nice, and was ready to call back the tuner immediately, but he was long gone, and over 40 miles away.

Our cell phone rang. It was Allie! Our entire focus turned to hearing about her Medical School interview today at OHSU. She felt good about how it went, and we had to hear every detail. We’re optimistic. Go, Allie!!!!

We probably had about 300 people, as expected, but they were scattered and it seemed like less because of the gigantic hall. As we played, I had my doubts as to how we were connecting with the audience. I had restrictions, too. I couldn’t let my left foot wander over to the soft pedal, or disaster!
Frank and I were just a little distracted in the first half, and we made a few errors I was afraid the audience would notice. The piano by this time was horribly out of tune. I guess I wanted everything to be perfect tonight, to live up to this place and its people. I bit my lip and started the second half. The audience was responsive, but I refused to believe it.

We got a cheering standing ovation and I was shocked! I had thought we bombed.
We greeted people in the lobby rather shyly at first, while there was a lady at our CD table selling hand over fist. She said in all their history, they have never had that many sales.
There were families there tonight, including lots of cute kids taking piano lessons. I wanted to hug every one of them!

We’re flopped in bed now, after a record night so far. Go figure!

DAY ELEVEN: Jan. 30, 2008 Travel day to Holdrege, Nebraska, and day off!

2008-01-30T21:07:00.000-08:00

The power went out last night! I was lying in bed with all these dreamy things I wanted to say about yesterday, and then, darkness; then, slowly, cold. We realized that the whole area had gone dark, and it was –4 outside with biting winds. Frank was warm, and we had covers and coats. If worse came to worse, we figured we could have slept in our car to keep warm.
I was writing about love last night when this happened. People comment about how Frank and I look at each other when we play. It’s the real deal. The two of us also travel well. Some people commented about our tour, “Two months on the road. Boy, that’s a lot of togetherness!” If anything, it’s made us appreciate each other even more. Frank told me last night how happy he is for me. I told him how amazed I am at his stamina, taking care of major business so that I don’t have to. Frank just read this, and although he more than agrees, he thinks this part is too sappy and too self-congratulatory, but I’m keeping it in anyway!

Yesterday morning we were the recipients of a gourmet breakfast at a beautiful home in Fairmont, Minn. Nancy and John Richardson, who lived in our neighborhood in Lake Oswego, Oregon, moved to the Midwest just this year. They bought their new place for a fraction of the price of their old home. Their house is on the edge of a beautiful lake in a gorgeous neighborhood. We were the worst possible guests, but they so understood. There were severe winter storm warnings in effect, right where we were traveling. We had a concert that night 228 miles away. We were nervous. We arrived early, rushed through the homemade frittata, the fresh-squeezed orange juice, and the raspberry coffee cake fresh out of the oven. The table was set with such style, with flowers and cozy candles everywhere. We got print outs from their computer, postage stamps from their desk, and frantically waved goodbye hopping back in our car which sheltered us from the 40 mile per hour winds at –4 degrees.

The drive to Yankton, S.D. was definitely a white knuckle one. Frank had to grip the steering wheel with two hands for all 228 miles. Trucks were weaving from the wind, and parts of the drive had no other cars on the road at all. It was spooky. We made sure we had plenty of gas, because one wrong move on our part, and we would have a serious situation.

So we’re at the gas station, and unlike in Oregon, you have to pump your own. Frank opened the door by the nozzle and could barely close it for the winds. He had to take off his gloves to find his credit card, and instead of his Visa, he kept trying his hotel key from the Super 8! I could hear some juicy four-letter words out there!
We found out from people after last nights concert that the stretch we drove is notorious for cars being blown off the road. I guess the angels were with us.
Four hours later and safely at our next venue, we checked into a college recital hall with fabulous acoustics and very professional and fun people. A Steinway piano sat on a beautiful stage, and the tuner was right there. Yes!
After setting up, we thawed out at our hotel in the hottest spa ever! Maybe that’s why the power went out last night.

This morning I talked Frank into going 23 miles in the opposite direction to Vermillion, South Dakota to see The National Music Museum, the largest of its kind in the western hemisphere. The piano tuner told us about it, and his wife is the curator. Well, we couldn’t miss that!

Although Frank was interested in the museum too, he pointed out that the weather was iffy at best, and that we were taking chances by going. My pleading won out, so we drove there in a mild snowstorm and navigated snowy and slick streets in Vermillion. The museum was fascinating. They had 900 historic instruments on display out of their collection of over 13,000! I saw some amazing keyboard instruments that I had only seen in books. We left prematurely so we could still get out of town without using chains. I felt a little guilty because Frank was sweatin’ it leaving town. To make it up to him, this will mean we’ll have to stop in at least three pawn shops (to find that rare old Fender Bass), two music stores, and any restaurant that serves breaded tenderloins.

It turned out to be a rather long day, even though we didn’t have a concert. We missed a turn-off and ended up going way out of our way before discovering it. We had to take some back roads and got stuck behind some big, slow trucks. When we finally gained speed, it was too much speed! Out there in the middle of nowhere, we were pulled over by a state trooper. We gave him our story, and he was really nice and only gave us a warning. Phew!
Holdrege is a town of about 5000. For dinner, we discovered RUNZA! It’s a decent regional fast food chain with good salads and excellent pulled pork barbeque.

Tomorrow we play at The Tassel concert hall. I’d better come up with some of my more bawdy material! It’s bedtime at the Super 8. Goodnight, Moon.

DAY TEN: JAN. 29, 2008 Yankton, South Dakota

2008-01-30T21:05:00.000-08:00

Love. That’s what today was all about. The concert tonight went beyond playing well, or worrying whether or not the audience is with you. All that was in place. The feeling of giving and receiving, that euphoric sense that you’re communicating the very joy of being alive with each note, and the audience is not only confirming but amplifying the experience. I even felt love from the piano itself; a dreamy, old nine-foot Steinway that stays locked most of the time (maybe that was why it was in such good condition.) It was desperately in need of being played, I could feel it.

DAY NINE: Jan 28, 2008 BLUE EARTH, MINN.

2008-01-28T21:34:00.000-08:00

Small town, five star venue! The piano was a Yamaha in good condition, the tuner really nice, the hall and stage new and clean with great acoustics, and our own dressing room!
In the dressing room was everything we needed, including my favorite—Wint-o-green lifesavers! There was also a sign on the mirror saying, “WELCOME SALLY HARMON POP PIANIST.” Our contact person was also our lighting and sound man. He took care of some major business and made good suggestions. Ahhhhh.

Blue Earth, has less than 4000 people. It’s got a small water tower, but is big enough to have a Wall Mart. At a major crossroad here, there’s an icon signifying the uniqueness of this town: a bright green 50 ft. statue of the Jolly Green Giant!
In Paris one pays extra for a view of the Eiffel Tower, in Blue Earth we got the V.I.P. room at the Super 8 facing the “HO, HO, HO” guy. Blue Earth got its name for it’s unique bluish clay soil. I also got a great cut and color today in a local salon. So we’ve got Blue Earth, red hair, and a green giant to remember this town.

The concert tonight felt really musical. We’re really settling into the pieces and bringing out nice little nuances now. In the car today, I told Frank he could move more, and have a stronger presence on stage. To my surprise, at the end of only the first piece we played together, he took this GIANT LEAP across the stage on the last note! The audience didn’t quite know what to think, but I laughed so hard after that I could hardly play!
We had lots of fun on this concert, and once again the electric shocks were in the seats so we got another standing “O” and encore.

Tomorrow we drive, I think in hazardous conditions, 200 miles to Yankton, South Dakota. Then we check into our hotel, do a sound and light check, and play another concert that night. It’s getting harder now. We must conserve time and energy whenever we can. Most of the tour will go like this. Wednesday we have off for a major travel day. We’ll probably do little else on that day, except laundry. I’d better turn in now. ZZZzzzzzzzz

DAT EIGHT: Jan.27. 2008 Waterloo, IA

2008-01-27T20:43:00.000-08:00

Concert three and a day of many emotions. It started rather blissful and relaxed. Frank delivered me coffee while I lounged in bed with the sun streaming in on me. It was time to check back in at home. Our daughter Allie is house sitting and dog sitting for us while we’re away. She’s got three friends staying with her to keep her company. This past year she graduated from the Univ. of Oregon Honors College and is applying to medical schools. She has so far scored two interviews, which are coming up soon. We feel her anxiety and nerves regarding these important events, and she still confides in her Mom about her dating life. Although she’s a full-grown 22, she’s still our baby. We had a long talk up until we had to leave to play our Matinee.
I had to switch gears, fast. As a Mom, it’s so easy to get pulled into the world of your kids. Sally. Focus!
During our Matinee today, as I was introducing the song I wrote for Allie I said that if she got into Medical school, we’d be playing lots more of these concerts! (That got a nice laugh.)

It was another high school today, and the dressing room was the band room! I jostled around music stands to create a make-up table, and changed my clothes when the coast was clear!

The piano was small, but a nice grand in good condition. The hall had nice lively acoustics and our sound check went well. I had to pull it together on the first half. The crowd was the biggest so far, maybe 700+. The second half the audience went wild with all the zany stuff we did, and we got another standing “O” and encore. I’ll bet you’re starting to think we have some sort of electric shock system in the seats, or something!

The biggest shock was a surprise meeting with David Folin from Allied Concert Tours in the lobby after the show.
He was making an eight hour round trip from Minneapolis, Minn. to see us perform. Frank had known about it since intermission, but didn’t tell me. Dressed impeccably, and very professional, he critiqued our performance. He must have heard feedback from our two other concerts, because he said, “You’re on-a-roll!” It was wonderful to finally meet in person the man we can thank for all this, and the man we’ve trusted to map out our tour.

After that, I was ready for a good stiff beer. So stiff, you need a fork and knife! I was drained.
After driving around for a while, we found a nice pub, which filled the bill. I had a pint, and Frank found his breaded tenderloin, a dream come true. (no side of oatmeal, either!)
Goodnight, all…tomorrow we drive 200 miles, and play a concert in Blue Earth, MN. ZZZzzzzz

DAY SEVEN: Jan. 26, 2008 TRAVEL DAY

2008-01-26T20:34:00.000-08:00

Today was a 400 mile drive, partly in a snow storm, to Waterloo, Iowa. Eight plus hours in the car! Tonight, though, we get to rest. We’re going to the fanciest place in town for dinner. Today when we arrived it had warmed up to 24 degrees and the sun came out! We had an enormous craving to take a walk in the outside air. This would be the first time in a week that we could even breathe it! We ended up walking around mountains of snow in shopping center parking lots. It was hilarious! Everywhere was a dead end of snow, and NOBODY walks around here.
Frank has been going from one minute, trying to eat healthy, in deep-fry country, to the next minute dreaming of double whoppers and breaded tenderloins. I told him, “ Go ahead and get that big greasy monstrosity, just order your daily oatmeal on the side!”

It’s interesting. Usually I’m the one bothering Frank, interrupting him from reading the paper, etc., to chat. Now that I’m doing this BLOG thing, Frank’s requesting my attention. Now we know how each other feels!
Well, we’re off to dinner now in Waterloo, IA… to the Napoleon Bar and Grill! (No, it’s really called the CU (symbol for copper) restaurant.)
Matinee tomorrow.

DAY SIX: Jan 25, 2008

2008-01-26T20:32:00.000-08:00

When you’ve got lemons, make lemonade! That’s what day six was like. First off, the piano tuner was the sweetest guy and really had a monster of a Steinway on his hands. It dates back to the 1950’s and I don’t think it has ever been regulated. Having been stored back stage all these years at a high school, it’s been used as a worktable for set builders, probably a dance floor for kids skipping class, and God knows what else. Someone had even drilled a hole right through the lid! The tuner looked and sounded just like Ed Winn. (You know, the laughing guy in Mary Poppins).
People at these venues wonder why I wanted it in my contract to see the tuner if possible before each concert. That’s because if I try out the piano before he/she gets there, I know what they’re dealing with, and I can appreciate them more when they’re done. This poor guy, Herman, had a broken key and numerous sticking dampers to fix. After giving it his best shot, he fixed all but the broken bottom key. I told him I’d hum on that one instead.
A can of spray paint and a gallon of cleaner were in order for the poor old Steinway finish. We ended up using magic markers, Windex, and furniture polish.
Next, we had the stage to deal with. It was quite dusty, with various pieces of old furniture and debris scattered here and there. I asked Herman were my “star” dressing room was, and he let out a belly laugh. I was taken down under the stage to a room full of old props, power tools, and more dust. Hidden behind all that was an actual lighted make up mirror and a counter. I unplugged all the drills, cleared the counter, and set up camp.

Stephanie, our contact person, was great. She saw what I was dealing with, having long gowns with trains, so she rallied the troops and about five of us snapped into action. Stephanie grabbed a big industrial mop and worked on the stage. I teased her that she was the new Carol Burnett, and that she should come out on stage that way to introduce me! She also cleaned me a path from the “dressing room” to the stage. Tom, the band teacher, grabbed furniture polish and detailed the Steinway. Two high school students started setting up lights, and even brought up an old chandelier for the stage. Stephanie cleaned that. Then we looked around for some things to warm up the look of our show. I brought along some gold netting fabric for times like these. Stephanie was right on it, and suggested that we put it across the front of the stage, all fluffed up, adding little white lights. That, together with the beautiful lighting and chandelier, created sheer magic!
All this was done in the nick of time before the doors opened at 7:00.

We had another warm, responsive 500+ audience. My little struggles with the piano action were completely overshadowed by the sheer excitement of performing. I had to nurse and love that instrument. There was an incredible feeling about three pieces into the first half: ” We’re really doing this! “ I thought. The joy was indescribable. We got another standing ovation and an encore. People were lined up at our CD table in the lobby where I always sign them after the show. This 16 year-old high school student edged his way to me and asked me if I would go back into the auditorium to hear him play the piano. I told him,” sure, you can serenade us while we were packing up.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he waited until I had finished chatting with audience members. As we walked back to the stage, he proudly told me “I’ve never had a lesson in my life.” He was not lacking in self- esteem. He attacked the piano, playing bits and pieces of classical music by ear. Everyone helping pack up the stage knew him, curious to see what I’d say. I told him it was amazing that he could play that well looking at his fingering, and that he needed to work on his timing, phrasing, fingering, and dynamics. I told him that he had that fire and love of music, and if he played that well with NO lessons, just think how good he would be WITH lessons! Everyone glanced up from what they were doing and smiled. Poor kid didn’t realize what he was getting into.
We packed up the van in –4 temp. and collapsed in our hotel room tired but happy.

DAY FIVE: January 24, 2008

2008-01-24T17:14:00.000-08:00

Today we travel about 200 miles north to Rhinelander, Wisconsin for our second concert. It is currently –28 degrees according to the weather channel. Phew! That’s what happens when you go north like that. It’s a beautiful brisk sunny day and great for travel. Any wrong moves and we’re dead, though.
A note about yesterday: there was some anxiety about how people we didn’t know would receive us. Usually we’ve been flown across the country to do a show by some enthusiastic fan. There is a little “crust” one must break through on each stop. Frank calmed my nerves by liking it to a blind date. It’s an arranged encounter built on trust.
Everyone we talk to about Allied Concert Tours seems to think very highly of them. They are the people who arranged this whole thing. We are impressed, as well. I’m sure they are watching us to see how we do- not just on the stage, but logistically. I’d better get off this computer so we can get going. More later.
We’re in Rhinelander and it’s not that cold. Only 2 degrees but going into the minuses tonight. Allied made some beautiful highlighted map routes for us, which we followed
upon realizing that our navigation system was taking us hundreds of miles out of our way! Frank thought that maybe it was taking us to Rhinelander, Germany!
So I am the official navigator with a good old-fashioned fold out map all marked by hand by Willow from Allied Concert tours.
Frank is on the phone with one of our contact people here about tomorrow night’s concert. Being on a Friday night, we’re competing with sports events, but we’re expecting a good crowd.
Good. The piano is a Steinway. Frank’s next call will be shouting to the tuner. Should be interesting.
You know, it’s funny. We heard a few more stories last night about guys being dragged to our shows by their wives, missing the sports game, just to see some lady piano player.
They end up being the first to rise to their feet for that standing”O.” Then I’m signing all the CD’s they’ve purchased. Maybe they weren’t expecting just what we do.
Frank just got off the phone with the tuner and it was a normal conversation. Good. It’s another high school tomorrow. These kids walk around outside in tee shirts, some of them!
Since this is a non- concert day, I’ll go into how this whole thing came about. Musician colleagues who want to know how we did it, pay attention.
We got a call maybe three years ago from a guy who bought one of my old cassettes, “Private Concert” at a garage sale in St. Paul, Minnesota. Since cassettes were only 50 cents, he bought a few artists. Mine looked interesting. He soon ignored the others and became a big fan. He happened to be on the board for choosing artists for their community arts series. After waiting probably a year before contacting me, we arranged a concert with their series. It was a big success. Then he told us about Allied Concert tours, which books many artists in a ten to twelve state region in the upper Midwest. He also gave them a glowing recommendation for us. Wouldn’t it be funny if he was one of those guys whose wife dragged him to see us?
After some courting on our part, Allied agreed to put us on their artist list (like a catalogue) and made no promises. We would have been happy with a handful of dates, for sure. They ended up calling to ask if it was OK to add on just a few more concerts, not wanting to work us to death. We agreed to 36! This has been more than a year and a half in the making. In 2006 it was weird to be thinking of 2008!
Right now I’m going in the pool, and after that, some good German food and beer. Gotta do this relaxing stuff when you can. Tomorrow’s another big day…
Chow!

DAY FOUR: January 23, 2008

2008-01-24T08:02:00.000-08:00

DAY FOUR: January 23, 2008

Dessert first. We got a standing ovation, then an encore. The audience put me at ease, and it was really fun! Comic improv became natural, and something about being in a brand new gown from Saks made my fingers fly. The head of the concert association came up to us at the end and said we could have charged double for what we did. I don’t quite know how to feel about that. This is the first out of 36 concerts and we’re just happy to be doing it at all! We’re just happy they were happy. This 85 year-old woman, our contact person, told us “ you know a lot of our artists are a pain in the ass but you guys wern’t.”

Contact people. Now that’s a subject in itself. As an artist on their series you want to make a good first impression. Their job is to insure that everything runs as smoothly as possible. They are often performers in some respect themselves, and they usually volunteer their time and are on the “board” for the community arts series. Their reward is to make their town happy with their entertainment choices, and they get to hang out with the artists and have a little vicarious experience. They have a lot to do with whether or not you ever come back. Many times they are aware of their power. They love to chat, and have stories of their own. ( during your precious 15 minutes of sound check.) The woman last night actually was quite nice, and we joked around a lot. She told a funny story about performing on her harpsichord and her “G string” breaking. She was shocked at me running around an hour before the performance with bare feet. I told her my toenails were still wet. (red polish.) She thought maybe I was having a “hot flash!” It’s an art to get everything organized before a concert, staying extremely focused, and not be “a pain in the ass!”
Concerts in high school auditoriums are interesting. During the day, when it is necessary to get backstage and meet with the piano tuner, the sound and lighting person, etc., there’s tons of kids walking around and classes in session, some right on the stage. Everything is locked, everywhere. It’s tricky. But I already miss my high school piano students so these kids are a welcome sight.
The performing part of all this I can see will be really thrilling. It’s just all the other stuff where we must practice getting our moves down. I wish I was like Samantha on “Bewitched” and just with a twitch my nose, we’d be safely at the next venue, performing; the sound, the lights, the piano, the audience, everything perfect. Aw, come on, Sally. It’s all about the adventure!
This morning I went down to meet Frank for breakfast, and he sat there hysterically laughing at something. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at him. His cell phone just cut off with the contact person for Friday’s venue. She was explaining that it might be difficult to reach the piano tuner by phone, because he is hard of hearing! What? A piano tuner that is hard of hearing? Frank called back to apologize for his reaction, and she by then had realized the folly and told her entire office staff.
Tomorrow we travel to Rheinlander, Wisconsin for our concert on Friday. A day off tomorrow so early in the tour is going easy on us. It’s good so we can make little adjustments in our logistical strategies. I’m looking forward to the drive.
Goodnight, all.

DAY THREE: JAN.22, 2008

2008-01-22T21:01:00.000-08:00

Odometer: 157 miles
I like contrasts. Warm, comphy car, deluxe hotel with hot tub and pool, -8 degrees outside and breezy. We’re in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, an old historic town, and the drive here was stunning. The countryside looked like an old-fashioned Christmas card with snow-laden fields, beautiful barns, silos and farmhouses. The warm sun beamed in the windshield as our car thermometer read 8 degrees and falling. Life goes on as normal around here no matter what. People pride themselves in that. There are no school closures for snow days, either. One thing is for sure- the weather is a real conversation “ice breaker!” (Please pardon my pun.) It’s the main topic on people’s minds. Frank tried to clean the windshield while getting gas. He said it was like putting the squeegee in a new flavor of “Mister Misty.”
Maybe when we play our first concert tomorrow night, the big snow storm they’re predicting here won’t be so bad. I saw the Green Bay Packers play football in sub-zero temperatures last night. Wow, that’s tough. I at least we get a heated auditorium!
Thank you, everybody, for your emails and well-wishes. It’s overwhelming, really, and means so much to us.

DAY TWO: Jan.21, 2008

2008-01-21T22:17:00.000-08:00

We’re starting out rather cushy. We’re staying at my brother Randy’s house in Wilmette (an up-scale suburb of Chicago.) He, his wife Julie, and their son, Ross are treating us royally. I am writing this by the fire in an oversized leather chair in a room big enough to be a museum atrium. Frank and I used their steam bath, and realized that may be the warmest we’ll be for the next two months!
Their son Ross, a junior in high school, is showing me the ways of the computer. He just laughed at how slowly I type. It’s true. My fingers fly over the piano keys, but typing is new to me.
I’m going to close out for now, because Ross just challenged me to a re-match in ping-pong.
Ping-Pong. The musician’s sport. Unlike doctors, lawyers, and upwardly mobile business people who join country clubs and play golf, musicians score some big deals around the ping-pong table. Ping- pong is cheap. All you need is a table, some old paddles and balls, and some wacky, willing people. I made probably the most important music alliance in my life (which in a way is what got me on this tour- a long story, to be saved for later) battling it out across the net. My brother Randy and I played a lot as kids, and I noticed that the same quick reflexes, wrist motions and aiming skills required to play the piano were used in ping-pong. It’s a passion for me, and Frank and I have had a weekly Ping –pong group for 15 years now. I’m the only female. And yes, if you play me, be afraid. Be very afraid!
Ross won. Two out of three. I’ve been rightly put in my place. He’s really, really good, though.
Frank just rolled up with our rental car for the tour. Wow! A beautiful black 2008 Saturn all-wheel drive macho vehicle, loaded! And the heating works!
Tomorrow we head up to Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. So much for this balmy southern Chicago climate. That’s all for today, more tomorrow.

Day #1

2008-01-20T07:35:00.000-08:00

Ok, I've got 15 minutes to boarding here at PDX to start this blog. We are laden with stuff! Wearing several layers of clothes each. Security took 8 bins plus Frank's bass! There's a piano here in the airport lobby. I remember playing that as a vollunteer at Xmas while people walked by a couple years ago.
It will be a lot more fun to play in the packed auditoriums we're going to, even if we freeze our butts off! They tell me that buildings are heated in northern Wisconson in the winter.
It was tough leaving, I have to admit. Saying goodbye to our family, friends and students for two months, not to mention our dogs.Parting in such sweet melancholy. That just means we have so much to come home to!
OK, so we’re now at the gate and Frank already had the triumph of running into another musician and casually told him we’re leaving for this 36 city concert tour.
Guy musicians get a kick out of being competitive with one another. A “rich” guy musician is only determined by one thing: how many gigs he gets. That’s because they have so much darn fun. They could be driving old beater cars, and working for “gas” money, it doesn’t matter. Many musicians I know are guys who have “real” jobs, (i.e. day jobs that pay well, comforts, house, mortgage, family, etc.), but accept every possible gig they can get. The full-time musicians are often envied, even though many work like crazy, carting their equipment everywhere, sometimes with two or three gigs in a day. It’s a culture.
For example, we had to be at the airport at 6.30 A.M. this morning ready and eager to launch our two month adventure, and Frank accepted a gig last night that went until 1:00 this morning! I asked him if that was such a good idea, and he said, “and miss a gig?”
So we all went last night to hear Frank play with Joseph Konty (a fabulous R&B and rock musician and band) and we had a blast dancing. I write to you this DAY ONE of our tour now at 30,000 ft. after just three hours of sleep.
The pilot just came on to tell us that it’s –2 degrees with 15mph winds in Chicago. The fun soon begins!

DAY TWO: Jan.21,2008

Before We Head Out

2008-01-14T08:16:00.000-08:00

We've talked about this tour for well over a year and now it's 6 days until we leave our warm and comfy home base and head to the upper mid-west for our 10 state, 36 concert tour. Yikes!!! A hundred lists and several heavy boxes and suitcases later, I think we're prepared for the experience of a lifetime. We're flying into Chicago Sunday, Jan. 20th to get our vehicle in order (this is a road trip) and visit with Sally's Bros. and family for a day. Jan 23rd is our first concert in Beaver Dam WI.