This actually happened about 2 weeks ago, but I thought I might share the story with you on this fine Wednesday.
Friday Mike had a show here in Galveston at a place called Vanishing Point. It was really fun to see some friends we hadn't seen in a while and to hear
the band play as it has been some time since they've been recording. A few people from my office came and had a blast! You never know what to expect, will they like it/not like it/ lie and say they like it when they really didn't, I get all worked up in that way but it seems things went very well and everyone had a great time. I even got two phone calls the next day with rave reviews! New fans! I like it. Even though the place was super packed and some people stood outside in order to not be stuffed in- it did not hinder anyone from dancing like crazy maniacs. On point. It was an exciting show!
The next day I was not feeling amazing to say the least. I needed breakfast ASAP and the universe just seems to work in this weird way that if I happen to be hungover (which is rare these days) and need remedy fast it will trip up everything in order to just screw with me for a bit. Not funny Universe you sly little devil you. I drove Mike to open both shops, and then we aimlessly drove around trying to decide on breakfast- which is never an easy and quick thing. It usually goes something like this:
Me: What do you want for breakfast?
Mike: I don't know what do you want?
Wash. Rinse. Repeat. For about 30 mins and the occasional hour.
Ultimately, we decided we would meet some friends at a restaurant but we still had to make the trip to two banks (one for Michele and the other for change for registers), then we get half way to the restaurant and realize we never dropped of the change so we go back.
It seems like a practical Saturday right? Wrong.
Michele, Mike's sister, has a melodica that she ordered from a tv commercial and is determined to learn to play the damn thing. Which in all actuality I applaud her for! I think it's a pretty sweet thing because Lord knows I don't have the kind of patience it takes and my musical talent is somewhat limited. High fives all around to Michele for learning something new but Mike thinks that her Melodica is an early Christmas present to him. He wants to play it, he wants to teach her, he wants to figure out how to play
Come See My Dead Person songs but can only figure out Aladdin's A Whole New World at the moment.
If you're reading this website I feel as though I can rest assured you know what a hangover feels like. Nauseous, pounding head, dehydration. That real sick feeling, did I mention the pounding head? Recall that feeling and imagine yourself in a closed environment. Like, let's say a car. Imagine yourself enclosed in a car with a musical instrument. A musical instrument that has a small piano on it and a mouth piece. How does one describe the force that is the melodica? It's like a clarinet and a piano had a baby. It's not quiet and the two people in my car were not classically trained to play it.
I'm driving down Broadway with Mike and the melodica in the passenger seat, my head pounding along to the beat of The Saints Go Marching In...well most of it, they're still working that one out. But don't worry folks, they have Hot Crossed Buns in the bag for sure.
I love this family, and all of their artistic talent and ambition- I wouldn't trade them for the world! I'll admit, it's a little funny to think about now, but at 9AM Saturday morning I wanted to throw the damn melodica in the Gulf of Mexico.
Disclaimer: I love you Michele and you and your melodica are welcome anytime, I swear. Preferably not in the car when hangovers are present but welcome none the less!
