I’m flying back to California this morning, after a nice it’s-almost-my-birthday weekend with my family. My Mama (yet again) made me more carrot cake than I could eat. I wish I could share it with you.
Last night I ended up chatting with Rosie Thomas, in the most unsuspecting of places. I was washing my hands in the girls’ room, and she was there. I asked, “Are you Rosie? I like you.” And she proceeded to spill out the horrendous story of how they’d gotten two-hours lost in Washington, D.C., but since her tour van was filled with boys (she tours with her brother, even!), no one would pull off the road to ask for directions. Classic.
“I need some girls with me on my tour! And…I need a hug!”
I could, at least, hug her.
Over the Rhine was more splendid than I expected. It was of the best shows I’ve ever seen. It was Linford’s birthday, and Karin sang her little heart out for him. Their percussionist was absolutely unreal, as we surmised by the outrageously expensive recording mic set to his snare and the six other microphones surrounding his set. And oh! I love that upright bass. When they played “The Trumpet Child” I didn’t just cry, I borderline wept.
At the final song, the entire music house lept in a standing ovation. Now, I do not give my standing o’s away easily. (I just don’t give in to peer pressure if I don’t think it was really merited. Snarky, I know.) I think I can count on one hand how many times I’ve given a standing o. But last night was one of them. Over the Rhine is more superb than they’ve ever been, after all these years. Rosie was delicately wonderful, too. Her nervous banter in between songs made us giggle so much!
See you on the left coast. Happy Monday.
(Airport seats by Flyzipper)