rajafacesbothways

Music to My Ears

Every Thursday night there is live music on the square, a nice touch and free entertainment. With a different musical group each week the quality varies but that is no big deal.

I have the distinct advantage of listening from my rooftop with at least a slight breeze, and a cold beer. The only outdoors place in town where the beer and the music can come together; due to rigid liquor laws set up during WW2 by the church women left behind while the men were off fighting the enemy.

Bet some of the soldiers wished they had stayed in France. Or found their way back to Yankee women.

Racing With the Rain

Encountered dark sky, hail and rain through Kentucky then beat the storms the rest of the trip to Chicago. Throughout Indiana all rivers were swollen and fields covered with water. The economy must be picking up--encountered many trucks on the highways, unlike a couple of years ago.

Karen had tickets to Orchestra Hall for a performance by the Chicago Symphony that included the incredible Hubbard Street Dancers, an unexpected bonus. Musicians need their eyes, ears and fingers--the dancers are more remarkable--their art requires many more body parts. Ouch!

A One an a Two--

Finally. The sun came out, the snow melted, the temp pushed 50 degrees and I returned to dance class in Lexington.  Steppin' out with Hello Dolly, a bit of rock and roll, country, and tango is an upbeat way to get exercise. A new dance, Burlesque, was introduced, with some extra twirls and turns.

This is a workshop of women and a few men age fifty and over, a class for exercise--not for training for a career on Broadway. It was more of a celebration of shedding scarves, mittens and winter coats. Anything else would not have been a pretty sight.

Beer Garden--Up the Stairs and Behind the Kitchen

Every Thursday evening free entertainment emits from the court house square and wafts over the rooftops to my porch, a perfect place to sip beer, enjoy the music and the sky show overhead. (billowing clouds, daredevil chimney swifts, a renegade hummingbird, Peregrine falcon and the nighthawk)
Okay. So it's not Beale Street or Rush Street, but the price is right and you can't beat the atmosphere.

Koko Rocked!

I love blues music and one of my favorite living blues artists was Koko Taylor, a Chicago-style blues singer who just died at the age of 80. Her raucous, gritty, powerful voice delivered songs with a beat that coursed through her whole being. I saw her perform live with B.B.King years ago and continue to appreciate that performance. Their rendition of "Blues Hotel" was classic.

Other favorites for me is her reditions of "Keep Your Booty out of My Bed" and "Old Woman" (I'm an O--l--l-d Woman Working on a Young Woman's Plan). It has been my theme song for years.

Rockin' Good Times

I forget how much I dig live blues until I hear a great group play as I did this weekend at Natasha's Bistro in Lexington. The Stella-Vees 5 piece band knocked out one awesome number after another, led by my friend Anne's guitar-playing nephew and a Chicago harmonica musician who had played with Muddy Waters.
My feet just couldn't stay still. And by the end of the night, tables were pushed away and everybody rocked.
Hmm. Wonder if I'm too old to be a groupie.

Let the Scales Fall Where They May

Analysis:  I'm a self-motivated person whose goal of success is in the doing, not in financial reward for my efforts. Okay. I know that's dumb--call me lazy--but obviously marketing my efforts takes too much time away from moving on and exploring something else.
When I moved, I had to sell the piano; and since I enjoyed playing music, I switched to a more mobile instrument--the harmonica. Took a spattering of lessons, watched a bird commit suicide against a plate glass window when it heard me play, and have ignored it ever since.

Now I decided I'm going to learn it again. Already I play it on my answering machine--perhaps solicitors will also commit suicide?!
And I always require an intention to stick to my endeavors. My goal--being side man on the harmonica for Keb Moe.

So cover your ears! I'll be ready for gigs in 5 years.

I Try to Grow Old Gracefully...

....so that I can die with dignity, but something always happens.

Last night a friend, Judy, invited me to join her; she had won 2 free barbecue dinners and wine tasting at Talon vineyards near Harrodsburg. It was a beautiful night, probably close to 200 people there and a fine band playing upbeat music of the 60's-70's so lots of dancing under an open tent.

It was an all white, upper-middle class audience (except us---we're barely middle). And there was all this great music. Long story short--- I ended up dancing with the young black parking attendant--by far the best dancer there--to Mustang Sally--one of my very favorite songs. (at one time that may have resulted in a lynching here, but fortunately met with only a few raised eyebrows)

I really try to grow old gracefully, but I fear that a closet wild person emerges from within me when the music starts.

Start the Music

Back to dance on a regular routine; my goal is to appear on "America's Got Talent."

I know I'm going to have to overcome age discrimination and not having a boob job but when I get good enough they won't dare turn me down. No chorus line for me--I'm going right to the top.

Shooting Star

My dance class performed at UnivKY today--14 routines that included the mambo, line dance, the twist and Greek wedding dance. We meet twice weekly totaling 4-5 hours of vigorous dance to upbeat music.

I love to dance. No. I'm not that good. Attitude is everything in performing and I couldn't care less if everyone else looks out of step. Give me an audience and a smattering of applause and, despite completely unwarranted self-confidence, I know I am the star.