Flying home from two shows in New Hampshire, I was closing my eyes on the plane, preparing for my mental end-of-the-weekend-wind-down, when one of my favorite band members asked me the inevitable traveling question....
"are we there yet?" Part of what I
love about my job is having the answers and being able to point people in the right direction. Part of what I
hate about my job is having the answers and having to point people in the right direction. I get questions. LOTS of questions. From the certainly-well-needed
"what time is our flight on Friday" to the more are-you-doing-this-just-to-make-me-crazy
"whatcha doin? printing out day sheets?" (as they stand in front of my printer and watch tomorrow's day sheet shimmy it's way out). I'm happy to pass on information -- in fact, it's my
pleasure to share all the information I know with all of them -- but sometimes, just sometimes, the barrage of questions from nine different people (and nine different personality types), after spending a couple of long days together in too-close-for-comfort-quarters, is enough to make even
Crystal Gayle pull her hair out.
With a deep sigh, I turned to answer my dear band member's query and found him laughing at me, full-well knowing he had hit his aggravation mark.
"I thought you wanted a big family?" he teased.
"Well, now you've got us... all nine of us to keep you company and keep you laughing!" As much as I wanted to give him an old fashioned back-of-the-arm-stee-bing, I realized he was right: I DID ask for this. I was the one that begged my parents for siblings... for the brothers that teased and pulled hair and the sisters that didn't let me borrow their jewelry and taught me about boys. Maybe I ended up with some of the
stereotypical characteristics of the only child, and maybe the way
I wanted things to look didn't quite happen, but I am grateful to my band for allowing me to feel what it's like to be a part of a big family... whether we like it or not.
