A post in which I started an apology

It seems I’ve reached the point where I start to write about how sorry I am for not blogging for ages and how busy I’ve been and how I’ll do better and how I’m not sure what I should be writing about and what does my blog mean to my readers but most importantly me and blah and blah and blah.



I’m not going to go into that.  It’s like creating a list of resolutions I know I’m not going to follow.  Yeah, I haven’t blogged for a few.  Sometimes I just don’t have much to say.  Maybe I used all of my words up at work or perhaps I wasn’t being funny enough to torture all of my readers with my attempts at finding my snarky, funny voice when really, it was on an extended vacation.

A very extended vacation.

But, for tonight, part of it came back because I’m feeling the need to write a bit.

It’s been a long week of meetings at work.  Meetings upon emails upon phone calls upon meetings upon more meetings.  I love the opportunity to get with teams and brainstorm and think, but I also like some down time to reflect on what was just worked out.  I don’t always get it, I get that, I’ve grown to be okay with it.  Thankfully, those weeks usually hold a gem of wisdom or a moment so funny I can’t even write about it without giggling.  Today came with a moment of artistic zen.

Well, in my case, it was a moment of popular entertainment zen, but we’re not really counting hairs here, are we?  Before kicking off one of those long, quarterly, get everyone in the room and talk about work meetings, someone asked me (well, asked all of us, but let’s go with me for the sake of my blog) to think back on that first artistic moment that inspired them.


Was it Singing In The Rain at Casa Manana in Fort Worth?  No.  Not that.  But it was good.

Was it seeing The Monkees at Starplex (hey DFW peeps, remember when it was Starplex?) on their Summer Reunion Tour in 1986 (or was it ’87?)?  No.  Not that.  But it ROCKED to be there as a young tot.  (Thanks Laurie!)

Was it attending the Amon G. Carter museum year after year for school field trips starting as a very young student?  No.  That was cool, but no.

A lot of artistic moments inspired me.  I grew up in a very artistic family.  I remember the mundane more than the other because the mundane was a break from the norm.  I thought and though for the moment I was given to do so, and landed on a concert my mom took me to in 8th grade.  I’m fairly certain I’ve blogged about this before.  It was THAT important.

It was at a Billy Joel and Elton John concert at Texas Stadium (may it rest in demolition peace) where I decided that my previous notions of quitting piano lessons were irrational and immature.  You see, I had been taking piano lessons for about 6 years by this point.  I was in band now.  Bassooning was more important to me than tickling the ivories.  Before that concert, my 14 year old self was convinced I was over the piano.

I’m extremely glad that concert convinced me that tickling the ivories was important and quitting would be an abomination and by God if I didn’t get home and start practicing something terrible was going to happen to me!

Okay, okay – that is a little extreme, but I was in 8th grade.  8th grade girls have been known to have a dramatic flair to them.

Thanks to that concert and a mixed tape my mom had with “Rocket Man” recorded on it, I fell hard for Sir Elton John and my life of music didn’t end there.  Who knows.  Piano lessons first, band next?  I shudder to think of the domino effect that would have caused.

Mom, thank you for taking your daughter to that concert instead of a grown up friend.  I know my 14 year old self was sometimes bratty and unappreciative, but not a day goes by that I don’t appreciate my musical background that you encouraged (and sometimes forced) upon me 🙂

Hey… do you think she took me to that concert for the sole purpose to show me cool piano?  Was that the reason behind it?  I’m guessing I’ll never know.  Maybe I prefer it that way.

Before I sign off, what was one of those “ah hah!” moments for you.  I don’t want to say artistic, because maybe you prefer numbers to art or medicine to music.  What one moment has inspired you in such a way that you might not be where you are today had it not happened?

And now, a moment of popular entertainment zen.


Oh hey – remember that time I had a CRUSH on the early 1970s Elton John for the year and a half following that concert and how devastated I was when I realized he was far too old for me and probably would have passed me up for some good looking guy anyways?  Yeah.  Devastated.

4 thoughts on “A post in which I started an apology

  1. Thank you for sharing your “ah-ha” moment! I was hoping we’d all get to share ours at the meeting, but programming had other plans (which were still fun).

    My “ah-ha” moment was inspired by my grandma and her stellar ability to “tickle the ivories.” She could play anything on her piano, and she couldn’t even read music! My 6-year-old self was convinced that my grandma was the epitome of a musical genius. I was quite fortunate to have my grandma as a neighbor until she passed away in 2006; we would play piano and sing together all the time. Looking back, I know that she was just playing random chords and arpeggios, but I can’t help but wonder if music was her one escape from the hard life she lived. She expressed so much pain, love, and hope in her everyday piano practice. She taught me to love the arts, which is why I do what I do! 🙂

  2. What a wonderful “ah-ha” moment! Sometimes I am pretty sure that the best piano players are those who aren’t trained, but people who just play what they feel. Who cares about what finger is supposed to find which key and if that chord progression is correct. Just play what you want to hear! Lovely.

  3. Ah-ha moments are hard for me because I have small ones all the time… I’m always changing what I do, so you know how that is. 🙂 So cool you got to see Elton John with your mom, a special memory… and make no appology for not keeping up the blog thing… I’m there too. lol. 😉

  4. Blog keep up is just hard when it isn’t your bread and butter. 🙂 We limp along.

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