Mr. Noodle

Guess what? I'm busy enough these days that that's all I have in my pantry, but I'm busy enough that I can afford to buy real food. I DON'T buy real food because I'm sleeping, 'cause I've been playing so much, and cause I get up and start getting ready to play somewhere else. Or teach, or host karoake or whatever it is I have to do these days. Also, I was in B.C. enjoying the sunshine and doggies and nephews.
But now that you know about my sensible diet and my busy, busy nights, I'll tell you about some thoughts I had about a conversation I had last night.
So I'm minding my own business, playing "Diva Night" at Overtime in Sherwood Park, and of course, on Diva Night, the place is filled with drunk dudes heckling me, and I, in return am heckling them right back, but less drunk and more witty. This kind man comes to my rescue with a fistful of twenties (as in twenty dollar bill y'all) and I'm suddenly a hundred dollars richer. And alot more willing to play Bon Jovi to the screaming idiots in the front row. I get off stage and thank him and his friend and we start talking and they ask "so what are you still doing here?" as in the same line from Piano Man, I'm so good what am I doing playing in bars still? Well I don't know if you guys know this or not, but everybody I know is super fucking talented and they're not rich and famous yet either, even though every woman I have worked with in the last 3 years or so ALL sing better than Katie Perry, Taylor Swift, or any other rich and famous lady "musician" you've probably ever watched on MTV. Other than Adele, she's sincerely talented.

Anyway, I took it in stride and told them that it takes work and time and blah blah blah but my brain's going back through other times when someone has said "you're so lucky" "you're so gifted" "what are you still doing here?" and I want to tell them hey, try walking into this very fucking bar, telling them you sing and ask them to pay you as much money as I get paid, and as often as I play, and suddenly you'll find yourself knowing all the songs I know, all the training I've had, know all the talented contacts I have, and your band will suddenly be formed and they'll magically know all the songs that you've recorded on your past two albums, and you'll suddenly have all the experience that I've gained in the last 3 years. I'm not LUCKY, I've worked hard to get here! And I can say that I pay my rent with music, so what if it's in a bar? What's wrong with this bar anyway?
I didn't say all that to them, but I graciously accepted the (slightly too spicey) ceasar they offered to buy me, and got paid, and went home, and got up and have the rest of the day to do whatever I want to. Which is to tell you about my diva night.

Thanks for supporting me friendlys! And thanks for not heckling me when I'm on stage, even though I'd probably say worse things right back to you, get fired, and wasted, and have to find other ways to pay my stupid phone bill.
heart tiff