It was after dark when I walked outside carrying a bin of recycling materials in one hand and Beth on my hip. Our street is a very quiet one with no outlet and no through traffic, and it is surrounded by park land. So I could clearly hear the music drifting faintly from a neighbor's backyard deck -- "Beat It" by Michael Jackson. I could have turned around and walked back into our house but I lingered outside, pointing out the new moon to Beth. The song ended, then I faintly heard the opening bass line to "Billie Jean." I started swaying to the music, singing the lyrics to my girl.

Ah, "Billie Jean." 1983. I was 17, and I spent hours and hours watching music videos like this one that featured a handsome young man glaring into the camera and dancing on a sidewalk that lit up under his feet. I thought he was so cool. I had grown up thinking of him as this cute little kid from The Jackson Five and it was funny to feel that way: kind of like realizing that you have a crush on your best friend's little brother who has suddenly grown up.

That is how I prefer to remember Michael Jackson: still young, his amazing talents hitting their peak, before the scandals, the excessive plastic surgeries, the trials, the lawsuits.

The damage done to Jackson and the damage that he in turn did to others cannot be denied. But his personal life had no impact on me, while his music did. I don't know if that is just or not. I have a good memory for every song of his that I enjoyed -- like the starry summer night in Ocean City when I flung my head back in the back seat of a car and stared at the stars and listened to "Human Nature" on the radio. It was one of those moments when I really felt happy to be alive, and that song was a big part of that moment.


* * * *

And suddenly I'm reminded of a week in August, 1977 when I was in Ocean City on vacation with my parents. I was 11 years old. I remember that everywhere I went, there were newspapers on display with front page headlines proclaiming that Elvis Presley had died. All of the photos were of a bloated, sweaty, white jumpsuit-wearing man who looked old and silly to me. Why does everyone care so much that this man died? I wondered to myself. What's the big deal? My parents weren't big fans of Elvis Presley so I was pretty unaware of his body of work at the time.

Elvis's eccentricities are part of his story, but people also remember the best of his music. They remember when he was the hot young man burning with talent and charisma. That's the way that I want to remember Michael Jackson.

This weekend the Pyrates Royale will be at the Virginia Renaissance Festival. (http://www.varf.org)

Here's our stage schedule:
12 noon -- Tavern Stage
1:30 PM -- Rose Stage
3:30 PM -- Tavern Stage
4:30 PM -- Tavern Sing

Hope to see you there!

First of all, thank you for the birthday wishes and the protestations that I'm not old. You are all too kind.

I agree, I'm not old. I was playing with that saying, "You're only as old as you feel." And on my birthday, my lack of sleep and dehydrated state made me feel old indeed.

Today, however I feel much better! I don't feel a day over 44!

Let's get this out of the way: today's my 43rd birthday. I don't make a big fuss over birthdays on LJ, so I don't expect a big fuss when the anniversary of my own birth comes around.

I spent much of today feeling hung over... sadly, not from celebrating. Yesterday I played pirate at Darnall's Chance Pirate Festival and I probably let myself get dehydrated. I regularly let this happen, [I'm old] but something about yesterday was different. [I'm old]

Glenn and Beth joined me at this event, and it was really nice to have them there. We decided to do that rather close to the date so I didn't have time to get a proper costume for Beth, but I found something that looked like Victorian underwear (a white sleeveless cotton top with matching bloomers) so my daughter portrayed a scandalously-clad female consorting with pirates at the tender age of 7 1/2 months.

The Pyrates Royale (with Myron Peterson of Ship's Company Chanteymen subbing for Capt. Moone who was at VARF) shared the stage with Ship's Company Chanteymen. It wasn't a huge event, but it was fun. We had an easygoing time chatting with friends in between sets, and we met some beautiful and friendly parrots. (Pics on Facebook)

Last night Beth gave me a lovely birthday gift by falling asleep early and staying asleep all night in her crib. I squandered this gift by indulging in some late night time online instead of going to bed like a sensible person. Very early this morning I felt chilled and shivered in our bed [I'm old] and asked Glenn to take my temperature. No fever, but I was achy, too. [I'm old] I lay in bed with extra blankets and wondered if I had That Flu. [no, I'm old]

Other than feeling old and achy and hung over, today was a lovely day. We took ourselves and Beth to a friend's pool party. We only stayed a couple of hours before Beth started fussing, but we didn't mind leaving because both of us were feeling wiped out [we're old] from the heat and from the day before [because we're old].

Beth fell asleep 10 minutes into the 1-hour drive home, and I fell asleep soon after. Good thing I wasn't driving.

Glenn gave me a wonderful birthday present: a gift card for my choice of spa treatments. I'm looking forward to my first-ever professional pedicure and my first facial since I was in college, among other lovely indulgences. This gift couldn't be more perfectly timed: it's been a stressful couple of weeks around here. As one of my mom friends astutely put it, just when you start to get used to being a mom, your kid changes things around. Yup.

If someone were to ask me what I wanted for my birthday, I'd say work, music, a party, friends, nice weather, and a gift or two. I had a music gig, I saw friends, the weather's been good though a little on the warm side, and I got some lovely gifts. So far this weekend has been perfect!

Friday: I went to the 18th Century Market Fair at Fort Frederick with skivee and robrobbinks and Beth. The weather was perfect for wandering around, touring the fort, laying on the grass under a shady tree, and buying stuff. I claimed that I needed nothing, yet I still managed to get a parasol (it was only $5!!), a "pewter-like" mug (it was only $5!!), and a mug that looks like a barrel. (it's fabulous!!) And food. robrobbinks was very amused with the rather large lunch that I got, but 1) I was HUNGRY and 2) my eyes were bigger than my stomach and I didn't actually eat it all. Beth was good as gold except for the drive home which didn't go according to plan anyway and that's all I'm going to say about that.

Saturday: Bright and early Glenn, my mother, Beth, Colby the dog, and me and my instruments and CDs all piled into my mom's minivan and we got on the road by 8:15 AM to drive to the Southern Maryland Celtic Festival. On the way we picked up skivee. I played a solo set at 11 AM, very ably backed by skivee, and then played another set with the Pyrates Royale at 1 PM.

Hey! It's amazingly distracting when you hear your baby fussing while you're onstage performing and you suddenly start doing the math in your head trying to remember how long ago you fed her. Oh, dear. I usually check my watch to make sure I'm timing the set right, but this time I was checking my watch because I wanted to finish and feed Beth. (She was fine. I was just being paranoid.) When I finally did get off the stage at the end of my solo set I took only enough time to put my instruments somewhere relatively secure before I made a beeline for the baby.

I had a great time onstage, though. Lots of laughs. My mother did a wonderful job taking care of Beth and Glenn did a wonderful job selling CDs for me so I got a chance to talk with people and socialize a lot more than I did at the Privateer Feast.

Saturday was HOT. I wanted to tour the festival with my mother and show her the lovely shore of the Patuxent River, but by 2:00 PM just the idea of walking around that much was really tiring. We were all feeling pretty wilted and Beth was in a sweaty sleeping heap in her stroller, so we decided to get in the minivan, crank up the air conditioning and get frappauchinos on the way home. That worked out really well.

We spent Saturday evening relaxing with my mother and playing with Beth. Oh yeah, and I spent some more money.

Sunday: Another hot day. After a lovely lazy morning my mother left for home. Glenn and I went out with the baby for a few shopping errands. I, who claimed that I couldn't think of anything that I wanted for my birthday next month, still managed to buy myself something: a wallet. Well, I didn't want to wait until my birthday -- my old wallet was literally falling apart at the seams.

I did the annual seasonal switching out of my clothing and re-organized Beth's wardrobe which has a bunch of new warm weather items thanks to her granny and her Aunt Jane. And I did a bunch of other productive things around the house. * feels productive and crap *

Glenn grilled a fantastic pork roast (credit Dream Dinners) for supper and we spent a quiet evening at home. We only ventured out to walk the dog. I love walking on warm summer nights and while technically it's still spring, this weekend definitely felt like summer.

I just bought tickets to see Hall & Oates at Wolftrap in August!!!!!!!

I grew up listening to them. I own all of their recordings, plus one of Daryl Hall's solo recordings. Yet somehow for all of these years I have never managed to see them in concert. I AM A LITTLE EXCITED ABOUT THIS.

I just found an ad on craigslist seeking someone "willing to yell and perform obscene gestures at drivers" in the D.C. area during morning rush hour.

No, really -- http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/doc/tlg/1126177022.html

We only have a few cabins left for the Bermuda cruise this July. If you have been thinking about joining our merry band in Bermuda, you only have until THIS FRIDAY to secure your berth!

Contact Adam Rubin at Greenbelt Travel:
adam@greenbelttravel.com
http://www.greenbelttravel.com
1-800-695-0317

"IM HAVE BOATS CANDLES AND A COMPUTER STORE" -- from an ad seeking SEXY FEMALE FREAKS

Reminds me of Elmer Fudd: "I am a millionaire. I own a mansion and a yacht."

* * *

"Do you have a great looking horse stable and body to match? I am looking for experienced or inexperienced models for a sexy shoot that will be set within a horse stable (clean environment, please)."

A clean environment? How clean? Clean enough to eat off the floor? Certainly you can keep a stable tidy and swept, but it's a stable.

bittibuddha asked me if having a baby would change me. I answered that I didn't think I really would change, but I have noticed something. I used to live in my head a lot, not so much "in the moment." But these days I have to live in the moment or I think I'd go crazy. It's a conscious choice. When I wash and dry and fold up Beth's cloth diapers, I can't let myself think about how many more days I'll be doing that. When I find myself counting the hours until Glenn gets home from work and shares Beth duties with me, I can't let myself contemplate the days and weeks and months ahead.

I can't let myself dwell on the fact that we had our biggest snow of the winter yesterday, yet I didn't go cross-country skiing. It's just too depressing to think about why (I was tired, the baby was a bit demanding, and so on) plus yesterday is over and done. Who cares? I went cross-country skiing tonight, and that's what matters.

What matters is that the moon was out, the sky was clear, and the snowy moonlit woods were magical. What matters is that the snow on the trail was better than it had been in probably 2 years. What matters is that Glenn watched the baby and insisted that I go skiing even though he had also stayed home and watched her all morning while I was off at a music gig.

What matters is that even though Beth missed me, she forgave me and fell asleep in my arms, then stayed asleep when I put her in her crib. What matters is that sometimes I have a day that feels nearly perfect.

The Privateer Feast was fun, but it really wasn't the best choice in the world to take Beth along. That wasn't our original plan, mind you. More than a month in advance we asked 3 different people to babysit, and still it just didn't pan out. I would have bowed out of the event but Drake couldn't make it so I felt obligated to be there. And while it was fun at first to introduce our Lil Peanut to folks, she got overwhelmed by all the noise and people. Not a surprise to us, but it was kind of a drag to hide out in the green room instead of socializing and getting drunk with everyone else.

We were there for 5 hours and I only played onstage for 50 minutes of that period. Guess which 50 minutes Beth picked to melt down in my absence? Even though I was careful to feed her before I went onstage? It's a damn good thing she's adorable, is all I'm saying.

And yet for all that, I still would have rather gone than stayed at home. Sounds like I'm a bit desperate to get out, don't it? Yeah.

Speaking of performing, HEY! I won something! Thanks to everyone who voted for me!!!

Speaking of Beth, we've started feeding her rice cereal. She likes finger painting herself with it. Also, little girl is SOLID. Seriously, I pick her up and it's like, did somebody put lead weights in her diapers? She coos and laughs more and more each day. And, thank all the powers that be, her squealing like an air raid siren phase seems to be over. Also, last night she actually slept in her crib for 4 hours. Baby steps, as they say.

My husband rocks. He found and ordered non-dairy chocolate chips from this website: http://www.allergygrocer.com. He baked chocolate chip cookies on Friday night. They're delicious.

I won't quote directly since I don't have permission, but a man (ergo, someone who can have as much sex as he wants without the risk of getting pregnant) weighed in on a pro choice discussion by saying that a woman also has the choice to not have sex, not invite a man into her bed, not go into a man's bed, etc.

I don't know anything about him, but I'm hoping that every woman he meets, for the rest of his life, chooses to not have sex with him.

I could write a bitchy post about how I would love to beat the ever loving crap out of the jerk who brought the lovely cold to Glenn's workplace... which Glenn then brought home to me and the baby. Glenn pointed out that it might have been more than one jerk. That's fine. I've got plenty of ass-kicking to go around. I just need a moment to crack my head open on our granite kitchen countertop so I can drain all of the infected goo out.

I could write about how hard I rock, because I paid a carpenter friend of ours to finally finish the little details that the kitchen needed to be completed... since September. They were little, less-than-glamorous jobs like the toe-kicks under the cabinets, the trim around the bottom of the walls -- things that a guy with a full time job, a baby, and a bad cold might feel a bit too overwhelmed to even start. So! The kitchen now looks great, the scraps of wood that were making me crazy are no longer taking up residence in the family room, and our friend earned some money during a very lean time. Everyone's happy!

I could write about how the baby has been remarkably sweet-natured despite her pitiful cough and runny nose (and her eyes actually water... seriously, I want to kick someone's ass) but after weeks and weeks of sleeping all night in a crib, she is currently refusing to sleep anywhere but in someone's lap or arms. In fact the best way to guarantee that she wakes up upset is to put her in her crib. ::slamming head into wall:: Please let this be the cold, or a phase, please oh please oh please... And no advice, please.

I could write about how the other night, the baby was attached to me (nursing while mostly asleep), Glenn was snoring and my shins were aching (explanation below) and my head felt like it had gained 15 pounds because of my fucking cold and how I was so aggravated to be the only creature in the whole damn house who wasn't asleep YET AGAIN... but that would be whiny, wouldn't it?

I could write about this fabulous warm sunny weather. And how kind of Mother Nature to turn on the warm and sunny for the entire weekend. Well done.

I could write about how I've started running again. Just barely. I'm really out of shape.

I could write about how I need more time to myself. Truly.

This afternoon our cable and internet crapped out for several hours. I got bored and put on music and danced around the living room with the baby in my arms.

Over the years, a number of parents have told me with great amusement that their small children loved listening to Pyrates Royale recordings. Some kiddies couldn't even go to bed successfully unless they heard certain Pyrates Royale songs, I'd been told.

And the whole time I was pregnant, I heard lots of quips about how my baby was a lil' pyrate in utero, and how she'd be singing Pyrates Royale songs before kindergarten. I would smile and nod, not saying anything about how I rarely play any of my recorded music at home... because it would be too much like work.

But back to this afternoon. I played a few mellow pieces that I hadn't heard in awhile. (Kate Rusby and Connemara) Then, just because I was curious about her reaction, I put on the Pyrates Royale's latest, Black Jack. I kept dancing around... swaying, really.

Beth was fast asleep by Track #5.

My lovely next-door neighbor works for a high-end caterer. So she was insanely busy during Inauguration Weekend. Anyway, she's in a photo on IMDB. The photo was taken during one of the Inauguration Balls -- my neighbor happened to be standing behind an actress. You may have heard of her: Anne Hathaway.

My neighbor is the one on the far right with short blonde hair.

She also met Ben Affleck. Color me envious.

The Good: Actually, it's wonderful news. Baby Girl is NOT allergic to fish, eggs, or nuts.

The Bad: That means she's allergic to dairy. (Cow dairy, that is, not breast milk.)

The Ugly: The pediatrician says no dairy for me for 2 more months. She didn't even let me "test it" by going on a cheese and chocolate bender, which I was so ready and willing to do. WAH!!!

I know the weather sucks balls for everyone who has to drive in it or walk in it, but having my mother stuck here is so awesome. Because she's here, I've been able to get so much more done and yesterday I went cross-country skiing while she watched the baby. An hour all to myself, just me and the dog, in the snowy woods near my house. It was WONDERFUL. The snow was just about perfect.

Now the snow is buried under something like an inch of ice, but hopefully things will start melting soon. (Even if it's wet, sloppy, slushy snow, I can still ski on it.) Beth is napping in her granny's arms, and my mom is loving it.

Colby, however, thinks we suck because it's too icy outside to go for his morning walk. Clearly it's all OUR fault.

Last night we all managed to get to bed before midnight, and this morning I shocked the everlovin' hell out of myself by waking up at 6 AM, taking a shower, making coffee, and putting the laundry in the dryer.