Today was one of those days where you start to wonder if it will ever end. Deadlines and more deadlines mixed in with the regular work that still has to get done even when there are deadlines. Kids have to be here and there and we’re sharing one car that technically belongs to Sticks or will belong to Sticks when he can drive if he ever has time to actually take the behind-the-wheel training and get his permit.
And a little extra — Dancergirl’s new solo dress is finished so we of course had to go pick it up, only to discover it’s a wee bit too big around the waist. EIther she got smaller or the measurements stretched, but one way or the other it’s not quite right, which means another drive back to have it altered.
Tuesdays are also Sticks’ day to play for the Senior Citizens Jazz Band. At the end of summer their leader called the high school and asked if they would give him a hall pass for 5th and 6th period on Tuesdays so he could keep playing for them. The teachers were nice enough to say yes, so Bigdog picks him up, gets the drums, and takes him over to the community center to play.
By 6:00 or so on Tuesdays we’re usually wiped out. Right around the time I was starting to figure out what to feed everyone, the phone rang. I hate it when the phone rings, because I spend so much of my time on the phone during the work day that I have absolutely no desire to talk to anyone at night. But I do check caller ID, and discovered that the caller was Sticks’ old drum teacher.
To make a long story short, a friend of his had a local jazz gig at a restaurant and their drummer had a last-minute conflict. Sticks’ teacher couldn’t do the gig, but suggested Sticks for it. They started playing at 6:30. Sticks finished the call with his teacher at 6:15.
Believe it or not, he got there and had the drums set up by 6:31, thanks to his faithful road crew. 
I just have to brag a little bit…he played that gig like he’d been playing with this trio forever, like they’d carefully rehearsed every number. It was as professional as anyone I’ve ever seen, and the leader agreed.
The funniest part of the whole thing was that the lead singer (who has an amazing voice…) is the mom of one of the girls Dancergirl dances with. Because Sticks also danced, she knew him as well.
That “six degrees of separation” thing must have something to it. Anyway, by the time we got home, unloaded drums (another faithful roadie role) got cars parked and in the house it was after 10, and I haven’t gotten less tired since then.
I wonder, will we miss being roadies when he goes off to college? I think we will, in a sick, twisted kind of way. I think I’ll have to sleep on that one.
