Karen and the Band

I will share my joy with you, reader, for tonight I got to audition for a rock and roll band. I have certainly tried different venues to release the inner diva, but to no avail.  I'm not getting any younger and would like to do something with music for once.  Rock and roll? Well, not really what my voice is meant for, but you take what you can get. My husband witnessed the event and told me I looked very happy and natural on the stage.  How did a little wife and mother get to become rock goddess for fifteen minutes?  Let me tell you.  There was an ad in the paper. A local guy was looking for a singer with no attitude to practice once a week with a band made up average joes with day jobs.  They would play local friends parties, etc. Well when I spoke to him, the hours did not conflict with any of mine, so my family and I went for me to audition. These guys are good, but not pros.  They had a limited song list, with even a more limited female songs.  I chose an Alanis Morrisette song out of their playlist which the guys hadn't practiced in awhile and I hadn't heard in years.  I read the lyrics from Julio's blackberry while singing.  Imagine the hijinx that ensued.  After a couple of tries we got it together and I was belting it out.  My kids are holding their ears and are dumbfounded.  Julio liked it.  The guys did too, but insisted I learn the other songs they know so next week we can try those out.  Some are cool:  Sheryl Crow, Garbage...but the Black Crowes, Green Day? How could a female voice do those artists justice?  And I hate the Black Crowes--from day one! All in all, I told them even if they didn't like me, it was great for me to sing with a band for one night in my life.  So next week should be interesting, because they are very open to learning new songs, but me sing "Hard to Handle?"  No way!

A Quick Heads Up

For anyone that has tried contacting me through my site, I am unable to receive them for some reason.  It doesn't even show that someone has tried to e-mail me so don't think I'm rude.  You can e-mail me the old fashioned way and I should receive it. 

Nice Guys Don't Always Finish Last

I have subscribed to the Philadelphia Inquirer for at least five years.  I have seen various deals when signing up for their auto-pay.  I never got around to calling when those were in place to benefit from them.  So when a telemarker called me to make a payment, he asked me how I was.  Well, I could hear the suprise in his voice when I asked him the same. When I asked him about specials for signing up for auto-pay, he said they didn't have any now.  I told him I recalled last time I saw theater tickets for signing up for auto-pay, he said he'd ask his manager.  When he found it would take sometime to track some down, he said he'd call me back.  It took him a half hour just to dig up some tickets.  Why would a stranger do such a thing?  He said my friendliness motivated him.  I let him know it was not in vain because I live in the boondocks, void of such culture.  It brightened my day.  And all I had to do was be nice.