More Dancing

I never danced much.  I don't know why that is.  I'm a pretty self-conscious person and that's probably the major reason I suppose.

The first time I can recall dancing was in my friend Maureen's bedroom.  We were listening to the Beatles' She Loves You.  We were probably 6 years old.  Her room was really small.  I remember we kept bumping into the bed.  And we were holding our Beatles bubble gum cards.  She was a Paul; I was a John.  

I took a modern dance class when I was in eighth grade.  It made me more self-conscious than ever.  It definitely wasn't for me.

High school gym classes had us square dancing, doing the lindy and, oddly, "the bump." Now that I've completely dated myself (raise your hand if you even remember "the bump"), I should probably just stop.  I remember we had these fantastic '50's themed dances too.  And I loved dancing at my proms; they were fun--we had real bands, not DJ's.

I cannot recall any dancing in college although there might have been a frat party that I bought a gorgeous blue sparkly dress for.  There had to have been dancing there.

There was dancing at my wedding.  I have pictures of that. That was ill-fated dancing as it turned out.

After that, no more dancing.  Until Dancing With the Stars.  Until Gavin DeGraw on Dancing With the Stars.  That's when the music changed and hope, fun and spontaneity flooded back into my life.  In the last year and a half there has been dancing at home, in the office (after hours, when I'm alone--you can't go totally nuts when you're the principal's secretary), in the car and when I'm walking in the park.  And at concerts.  Especially at concerts.  (I'm a terrible dancer, by the way, but that's not the point anymore.)

In 22 hours it will be 2014.  A new year.  Like most people I have goals for the new year.  Lots of them.  My favorite is More Dancing.  As often as possible.  More Dancing.  Because if I can live my life dancing ... well, I believe a lot of good can come of it.

Let's dance.

Vocabulary Confessions

I passed a big milestone this week.  My 1-year fanniversary.  Yes, that's a word.  At least in the world of fangirl fandoms, it's a word.

                    fangirl n. what you might call a groupie, but that's because you don't really 
                    understand.  Audiences for Maroon 5 concerts are packed with hundreds of 
                    fangirls.

                    fangirling v. spending the evening seeing your favorite artist(s).  Tonight I will 
                    be fangirling with some of my friends at a Bruno Mars concert.

                    fandom n. all the collective fans, but not a fan club.  Justin Bieber may think he 
                    has the best fandom in all the world, but he is mistaken.

                    fanniversary n. the date on which you first became a fan.  April 3.

Okay, now that we've had our vocabulary lesson, I confess it is true:  My fanniversary is April 3.  April 3, 2012, to be exact, was the first time I saw Gavin DeGraw. Ever.  On Dancing with the Stars.  He wasn't singing because, as you know, that show is about dancing.  But I shall back up a little.  I'm not that into DWTS but just about everyone I work with is, so last spring I decided to tune in on week 2 to see what all the fuss was about.  Pro dancer + I wanna be a star is what I'd always thought of that show.  But there was Gladys Knight, who's always been a star where I come from.  And a couple of other folks I recognized.  I always loved Jack Wagner--ever since I planned my class schedule around General Hospital.  Melissa Gilbert AKA Half Pint.  So I settled in.  This was sort of entertaining.  It was okay; I wasn't bored.  Enter Gavin DeGraw.  I had no clue who he was.  Is he a wanna be, I thought?  I'd never heard of him.

But if you know me you know that I actually had been living under the proverbial rock--for about 15 or so years.  Caught up in single motherhood, double jobs, volunteer commitments, chaperoning, keeping up with home duties, driving, driving, driving ...  I'd been listening to not much on the radio since country music had departed New York 15 or so long years before.  April 3, 2012: the night I came out from under the rock.

That self-deprecating, winsome attitude.  The generosity.  Okay and that smile.  A fangirl was born without even hearing the first note out of his mouth.  And despite his less than perfect dancing.  

Order the music.  Check.  Order concert tickets.  Check.  Plan vacation time around appearances.  Check.  Join fan club.  Check (and yes, those still exist too).  Follow on Twitter.  Check.  Give up television for YouTube.  Check (well okay, not entirely).  Meet the man.  Check and double check.

As the music opened my life back up to possibility, joy came flooding back in.  

Let It Go is from the second album.  Those three words had been my goal for a decade.  Somehow I could never let the past go.  Let It Go.  Put down the guilt and shame and anger and despair and worry.  I was driving when I heard that song for the first time.  I had to pull into a parking lot, I was crying so hard.  Those three words are the most powerful words in my lexicon.

Sometimes the only way is jumping. I hope you're not afraid of heights.  That's a line from a song called Meaning.  I had been afraid of heights.  But I have jumped.  And it's okay.  Jumped into a new way of being in the world.  Jumped into the light.  Jumped at chances.  Jumping just for joy.  There is dancing at my house now.

What you want and what you need are never the same.  Boy does that resonate.  I thought I knew what I wanted but now I know what I need:  really good food, no end to the music and dancing, my friends--new and old, my family.

So this man I've met twice for a total of about 30 seconds changed me forever--or maybe it's that he helped me find me again--I haven't figured out which.  In either case, I think I'll be grateful to him forever.  I hope he never stops making music.  Ever.


Hail to the light that my baby watches me
In the darkness of the window
I can hardly get to sleep
Wish for the hour that
The nighttime soon shall pass
And the morning dew will bring us
To a day our souls can last

Love has a reason
There's a meaning to the world
We're giving love

Situation candlelight
Enough to see the bits around you
But it's never very bright
Stare at a memory
You, through the grapevine, heard the truth
It's good to learn from your mistakes
But that only works in youth

Love has a reason
There's a meaning to the world 
We're giving love

Restless minds; curtain calls follow fanfares
Troubled hearts; just a walk down the hall
Restless hearts; you take a punch just to land one
Troubled minds; it's only fair after all

Mounting, the trail, but you've got it in sight
Sometimes the only way is jumping
I hope you're not afraid of heights
Reach in my pocket for a bill that isn't there
And to face all of the undoings
Still isn't more than I can bear

Love has a reason
There's a meaning to the world
We're giving love
Giving love
Love, love
It's always been good to me
It's always been good to me

Love has reason
There's a meaning to the world
We're giving love

~Gavin DeGraw, Meaning

Time for Music

I bought more tickets today.  Gavin DeGraw in Virginia Beach.  For someone else, this would not be out of the ordinary but for me  . . . well up until last year, I hadn't been to a concert--rock or pop, that is--in 29 years.  That time was Warren Zevon, with my former husband, or rather, fiance at that time.  Not my taste in music but I went for Mark (turned out to be an interesting night, but that's another story).  

My first concert ever was Seals and Croft in the summer of  '74.  A bunch of us snuck out of music camp in the Berkshire mountains of Massachusetts and hitch hiked over to Tanglewood and then weaseled our way onto the lawn.  At least that's how I remember it.  Funny, I hadn't thought about that in years but heard Seals and Croft in the grocery store tonight (of all places) and it brought me right back there.  Tweeting about hearing We May Never Pass This Way Again, I connected with a friend on Twitter and related the story about sneaking out of camp.  We had a laugh over it.

The next concert I remember (non-classical music) was Bob Dylan in Cincinnati, maybe 1979.  I think that's where it was.  Huge arena.  Mostly what I remember about that one is the haze of hemp that permeated that huge arena.  Since I'm not a partaker, I wasn't enjoying the atmosphere (so to speak) but I do remember thinking he was a genius.

That might have been it for me and live music had it not been for Dancing With the Stars.  That's right, Dancing With the Stars.  I don't watch Dancing.  Not my thing at all.  But everyone at work watches so I tuned in once last spring, March 2012.  There was this singer, a pretty bad dancer, but so charming, humble and generous.  His name was Gavin DeGraw.  Who?  Wasn't listening to radio, didn't watch One Tree Hill, hadn't checked a concert venue schedule in years, or I may have heard of him.  So I did what any other curious person might do.  I googled.  Then I listened.  Then I bought the music--every bit I could find, in duplicate (car and house copies).  After that came the tickets.  

My first time seeing Gavin DeGraw in person was in Big Flats, NY.  Four-ish hours away, I drove up on Sunday, sat in the rain for the show and drove home the next morning.  That night I travelled to Rye, NY to see him for the second time, again in the rain.  Rested up for a day then drove to Boston to drag my daughter to see him there.  Boston again, in September, Utica in October, Long Island in November, then back-to-back days in December in Worcester, MA and Manhattan.  Hooked?  You bet.

First and foremost, it's the music.  Soulful, sincere, original, very musical music.  Every song seems special to me.  Every song speaks to some part of me--past or present and even future.  It was listening to Gavin that gave me strength to begin to hope again that there could be something more to come in my life.  Maybe something to fill the empty spot.

Then came the summer evenings of listening to YouTube concerts and interviews.  Funny, funny interviews.  He has an endless number of stories about himself, life on the road, funny things that have happened to him along the way.  My favorite interviews are the more serious ones where he talks about music--his music or music in general.  I admire that in a business that is rather relentless, he's managed to stay true to himself.  I imagine there's been a price to pay for that.  For not always caving in to someone's else's notions of what his art should be, for having his own opinions, for his extreme generosity in regards to other musicians.  I was captivated.

I'd joined Twitter shortly before the concert adventures started.  I joined because it's one of the new ways the Girl Scout movement is using to relay information.  But I quickly branched out from @GirlScouts and followed @GavinDeGraw.  That may have been the best decision I've ever made.  Gavin tweets a fair amount.  I learned a lot about him through the short bursts of text known as tweets.  Then I started noticing other people who follow him. I followed them too.  Some of them followed me.  Before I knew it, I had dozens of new friends, all of whom were as deeply hooked on the man and his music as I was.  I began to meet them at the shows.  Some have become friends on other social media like Facebook.  I'm getting to know them and about their lives and families and they are very special people in my life.

So I give Gavin DeGraw the credit for lifting me out of the fog I'd been living in for nearly 20 years.  He accompanied me on my workouts and has helped me lose nearly 100 pounds so far.  He brought health, fun, anticipation and beautiful new friendships my way.  These are not insignificant things.  He pointed me in the direction of other musicians and so did the friends I've made because of him.  So in addition to the three Gavin concerts I've lined up, I'm also seeing Andy Grammer, Chris Wallace, Tyler Hilton and the Jamie McLean Band this spring.  

My life is filled with music these days . . . actual music and another sort of music . . . it's the music of happiness, of looking forward, of finally setting down that load of regrets . . . it's my music.

PS  There is dancing too.