i penned the blog entry “it’s the little things” more than two years ago, in the early days of my house concerts, and i re-read it now with amazement.  how did i do it back then?! in order to survive the snowball rolling downhill, my planning skills for house concerts have necessarily and vastly improved — shake no longer has to carry in the watermelon; in fact, i even have dinner ready for him now!  i have a regular schedule, a web site, and at one time i even had business cards with my schedule on them.  (they were cool; i’ll have to get some more.) i collaborate with other house concerts, and have been on the radio and in the newspaper.  i even had an outdoor stage built, so we could enjoy our music in the yard on those warm spring nights. 

but while i have “professionalized” my series, my childlike wonder remains.  each time i watch a performance, i awe at the raw musical talent before me, talent i ache to share, but just cannot create with this body. i revel in the audience applause and the smiles on their faces as they tap a foot to the music.  although i didn’t know it when i started all this, it has become my reward to enjoy their enjoyment of a show.

Julia Roberts tells Cameron Diaz in “My Best Friend’s Wedding” that Cameron is creme brulee, but the man they both love wants jell-o.  for most of my life, i have belted ballads in the shower and howled harmony on the highway, wanting so much to be jell-o, the thing that i am not.  i now accept that while i will never sing on stage or CD, i do have in me the skills to host a really enjoyable performance. 

and if that’s my contribution to the art of music… well, then, maybe that’s the cool whip on the jell-o.