Cliff

mod*betty

Rawk Paper Scissors

I must confess- in the past few weeks I have found myself feeling like I should go out to gigs just so I have something of interest to report in this column. But then I realized that that was kinda cheating. I am supposed to write about my rock and roll wifestyle -warts and all, and not some glamorized version of it giving the impression that CH and I are 24-hour party people. While we do go out quite a bit – probably a lot more than some folks, we still spend plenty of our time with things like laundry, leaves, and walking the dog.

Things have slowed down as far as touring and gigs go-this is to be expected at this time of year, and I greet this turn of events with an exhausted and relieved sigh. For the past six months I have been doing anything and everything to help make CH’s new CD a success and get folks to listen to his music and lemme tellya, its a never ending job. While I have been doing my best to keep his pot at the front of the stove at a full and rolling boil, my own little saucepan is on the ever-famous back burner. Just enough heat underneath to keep it warm, but there is not a lot of cooking going on.

Now I can’t really kvetch since I am complicit in this arrangement-structuring my schedule so I am free to take off to NYC or L.A. or Boston at a moments notice. (Gotta be ready in case they want him to play at the Grammys!) I am also the one who offered to help with designing and photoing and stuff like that there, since we did not have the cash to pay someone else to do it. Even this column you read here is proof of the fact that I have let the Rock biz usurp my life and everyday thoughts.

This was made incredibly clear to me earlier this month when I got word that the mother of two of my dear pals had died suddenly and a memorial service was planned back home in Massachusetts. As the stars align as they often do, I realized that CH and I would be in Mass around that time, but we were supposed to return to Delaware for a big DVD release show for one of CH’s bands the Friday before the service.

I am embarrassed to admit that the Rock part of my brain said -without really thinking it through- “Oh well, I guess we can’t go to the service since we are coming back here for the big gig” Like rock paper scissors, Rock wants to come out on top.

Luckily the thinking part of my brain was able to immediately put that into perspective: “Oh that’s right, I am sure Kate and Thad would understand that you could not share in the grief of their mother’s death because you had to go HANG OUT IN A NIGHTCLUB!” At that moment I realized that Rock has been in charge for way too long and I had not even noticed.

With that lame nightclub excuse still fresh in my brain I had a revelation: While CH actually had to go to the gig, since he is part of the band and all, I was under no contractual obligation to appear. I was used to being at gigs without questioning it and what had started out as a fun diversion had somehow morphed into an obligation in my mind.  I had to remind myself that it didn’t mean I did not love my husband or his music if I did not go to every single show, it just meant that maybe I had a life of my own and something else to do. (Even Nancy Spungen had her own stuff to do, ya know!)

So it was arranged that CH would drive back to DE as planned and I would catch a cheap flight home after going to the service and hanging out with some old friends. I have to admit it felt very weird for me to be sitting in suburbia with my sister and her family watching Charlie’s Angels 2 while CH and the band were having such a big event and a raging all nighter afterwards, with folks staying at our house even! But when I thought about it in the grand scheme of life, I knew I had made the right choice.

The look of surprise in my friend’s face when she saw me walking up the drive was so worth all of it. She kept on repeating, “I can’t believe you came all this way- that’s so cool” while I reminded her that I have traveled with CH to gigs that were for far less. It was such a good feeling to know that I had made the right decision and follow my heart. While I (heart) the rock, my heart is not made of Rock.

I have to be careful though. Even as I write of making the time for myself to figure out what to put in my little saucepan life, I hear a faint whisper in my head. It’s the siren song of Rock reminding me that South By South West is in Austin in March. I have never been to Austin before….