When it is time to prepare for an upcoming show, I am in a happy state of mind. I love to perform my new songs. There is nothing like a live audience, even small, when you want feedback on your work. My fellow musicians are in the crowd and they are not hesitant to comment after the fact. This is my way of life. A local show is a great opportunity to I invite family and new people I meet. We all share a love of music of any type. I have my own style and it finds its best expression in small venues. Oddly enough, I spend a lot of time deciding what to wear. You would think otherwise—that I practice for hours on end. I do this anyway, but looking good and being comfortable is part of my “act.”

Right before a show, I was in a panic and couldn’t decide what blouse was best. I tried one on after another, rejecting each as the wrong style or color. Clothes went flying in my bedroom. It looked like a communal changing room as there was so much lying around. I didn’t know I had that much in my closet. I wanted something attractive that wouldn’t call too much attention to itself. Where did I get this idea? Have you seen Taylor Swift on stage? Lots of glitz and glamour! I could go this route, but in a small space some too fancy would be overwhelming. So, I went through the process of trying more things on and tossing them in the air as I took them off. Here is where things really went wrong.

You aren’t going to believe the next part of the story. After a ridiculous amount of time, I was getting bored and finally settled on a simple pink silk shirt. It would look great with midnight blue jeans and cowboy boots. I had my look for the performance and could start to relax. But…I took it off and threw it upward as I had done with every other item, perhaps out of habit. Yikes! The shirt got caught in the ceiling fan in my bedroom which I’d bought from https://www.ceilingfanchoice.com/best-bedroom-ceiling-fan/. I had worked up a sweat taking clothes on and off and had turned it on for a few minutes to cool off. You can’t imagine what the item looked like after I retrieved it in dismay. I had to share it on Facebook. It was between the blades for less than a minute, but was torn to shreds.

I must pause here as the memory of this moment still gives me the shivers. The “perfect” shirt for my big evening was no longer an option, now or ever. I had wasted so much time and energy and would have to start over. I had gone through everything, so the only recourse was to try it on again. Agh! I put each item on, stared in the mirror, and took it off—before tossing it into the air. Sound familiar? But this time I knew better and had carefully turned off the fan.