Defying Gravity

Today is a huge day. It's a day I've been waiting for since early November of last year. The tickets have been bought, the dress has been selected, and my date arrived last evening.


Today, I get to see my first off-Broadway play.


Today, I get to see "Wicked."

This is my "OHMYGODI'MSOEXCITED" face.

I was a senior in college when Wicked first hit the stage. Like all successful musicals, the Broadway stars made their rounds to all the daytime talk shows, to promote the show. I watched Kristin Chenoweth sing her brains out on the Rosie O'Donnell show. I saw both Kristin and Idina Menzel belt out "Defying Gravity" on award shows and late night talk shows. I vowed to see it on Broadway, in New York City, before it ended.


Last fall, Brian and I were watching Jeopardy, eating our dinner, and minding our own business when a commercial, announcing Wicked was coming to the North Charleston Performing Arts Center, came on the screen. I squealed. I cried. I jumped up and down. And I begged Brian to take me.


We bought the tickets as soon as they went on sale.


I've been patiently counting down the days on my Donnie Wahlberg calendar while harmonizing with Kristin on "Popular." And the day has finally arrived.


About 2 months ago, Brian made it plain that he wasn't interested in going to see the show. (He's not into musicals. I know, he's a crazy person.) His response to my excitement? "I'll go if you can't find anyone else who wants to go."


So I offered the ticket to the one person in the whole wide world who I knew would be just as jazzed as I was by all the jazz hands. Brian's Aunt Tina.

The first time I met Tina, we all climbed into my car to go out somewhere. My huge CD book (remember those?) was in the backseat. As we drove through the little town of Boone, headed toward our destination, Tina flipped through, checking out my taste in music. Suddenly, she exclaimed, "You have the soundtracks from Little Shop of Horrors, Annie, AND Oklahoma!!?!! You're the ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD that I've ever met who has all three. Well...except for me."


We've been thick as thieves ever since that moment.


And so, tonight we will pretty ourselves up. We will brave the traffic and drive to the coliseum. We will be there earlier than anyone else, and we will stand in line singing "Popular" and "Defying Gravity" and "I'm Not That Girl." We will bounce up and down in our seats until the house lights go down. We will take in every single aspect of the production, from lighting to costumes to staging to props. At intermission we will giggle like school girls and relive all the wonderful moments we've just witnessed. We will race back inside the theater as soon as the bell dings to signal the end of intermission. We will sing along with all our favorite songs. We will cry when Fiyero dies, and when Elfie takes to her broom, and when Glinda mourns the loss of her friend. 


And when it's all said and done, we'll get in our car, drive back home, and talk about the show for the next 3 weeks to anyone who will listen, and to some who won't.


Today is a huge day.

Today, I see Wicked.

Celebrate Good Times, C'Mon!

Some special occasions are so special, the only thing left to do is to don your favorite party dress and dancin' shoes and PAR-TAY.

I'd say being one year cancer free is one of those occasions.

So last night, Brian and I headed to Mt. Pleasant to attend a breast cancer awareness charity event, hosted by my favorite singer/songwriter Edwin McCain.

And yes, we wore pink. That's right, I said WE.

It was a gorgeous South Carolina sunset. Shem Creek was bustling with activity, the breeze was cool on our skin. And Mother Nature showed her support with a vibrant pink sky.

The first thing I need to say about this event is this: Holy Pink Cocktails, Batman. I have NO idea what was in these things. All I know is that they were pink, fruity, delicious, and went down WAY too easy. Forty-five minutes into the event, I'd already consumed two. 

And the liquid courage was just what I needed when I spotted my musical muse standing near the back of the venue, quietly surveying the activity around him.

I grabbed my camera, my husband, and my drink and over we marched to talk to Edwin.

And I'm proud to say, despite the butterflies in my belly, I managed to stay poised and calm. I shook his hand, told him I'd been a fan since 1994. I asked about his wife, who recently had a double mastectomy. I told him of the 3 generations of women in my family who have battled the same disease. And then I told him about Brian, and that we were there to celebrate his big anniversary with Edwin. He was gracious, kind, generous with his time, and totally willing to pose for pictures.

A little out of focus, but it's a new camera. So a learning curve is expected.

Except for the woman behind us, who offered to take this picture. It took her 6 minutes to figure out how to work the "capture" button. LOL

The venue was decked out from floor to ceiling. Pink table cloths, pink lighting, gorgeous pink centerpieces--every single detail, large to small, was carried out to perfection.

And believe me when I say, I noticed every. Little. Thing.

The best thing about this event: there was no set plan. Edwin mentioned that he'd just sent out a smattering of emails to friends in the music industry, and it was literally up to the last minute as to who would show. Local talent, friends who helped Edwin get his start, even his best friend from high school--a sax player, all joined Edwin on stage and jammed. It was musical chaos, and it was fantastic.

I nearly hyperventilated when Darius Rucker, of Hootie and the Blowfish fame, came on stage to sing "Solitude," with Edwin. As in, literally almost passed out from excitement. Darius was the one who gave Edwin his first shot at the big leagues, and they've been great friends ever since. All the many times I've ever seen Edwin live, I've never gotten to see him sing with Darius. Until last night.

Amazing.

I could cry right now just thinking about it. Edwin's voice is one of those you can feel in your soul. And with Darius...well, it was haunting and heartbreaking, all at the same time.

What it all boils down to is this: we had a terrific time. The food was great, the drinks were great, the ambiance was great, my date was great, and Edwin was great. Suffice it to say that, if he makes it an annual thing, we'll be there every year, hands down. We got to celebrate Brian's anniversary in style. And that's a memory I'll always treasure.

One year cancer free. Who gets a cocktail? BRIAN gets a cocktail!!!

My Personal Soundtrack

The time: steamy summer of 1997.

The place: lying on the floor of my high school sweetheart's bedroom, in a pool of sunshine.

The soundtrack: Edwin McCain's Misguided Roses.

I fell in love that summer--with a boy who's eyes were the color of melted chocolate. With the idea of "true love." And with a songwriter who's words were heartbreakingly beautiful.

That first romance bloomed, and eventually died on the vine.

I traveled the road of True Love, and Broken Heart, and Never Love Again.

And that songwriter traveled with me, from high school to college to real life.

He was with me during those first moments of falling in love with my husband. He was there when we shared our first dance as husband and wife. He was there to hold me up when Brian was diagnosed with cancer last year. And he's still with me today.

When you find a songwriter like this, who's voice reaches deep down inside and moves your soul, you tend to grab hold and hang on for dear life. 

Songwriters like that can be your therapy. They can share your moments of triumph. They can buoy you up in your moments of defeat. They can make you laugh, and dance, and groove. They can make you cry, and think, and feel. They can be such a permanent fixture in your life that everyone who knows you has been touched by that songwriter, too.

Edwin McCain is that songwriter for me.

The day I met Edwin, in fall of 2006.

Each and every time Edwin releases a new album, it is a day of celebration in our house. And Brian was up extra-early this morning to ensure he had enough time to download Edwin's latest album, Mercy Bound, for his long commute to work.

On this album is a song that will break your heart and have you jumping out of your seat at the same time. It's called "Boom." Edwin wrote it about his mother, who was diagnosed with cancer in May of 2010. (Video shared below for your listening pleasure.)

As you can imagine, it really hits home with us.

And as usual, my songwriter has released an album I know I'll listen to for many years to come.

Some days I think I should write Edwin a letter and describe to him just how he's affected my life. How his music, his story telling, his words have worked their way into the very facet of my person. I often wonder how I would articulate that to him in a way that he would understand. His music is the soundtrack of my life.


Maybe I'll just send him a link to this blog. 


If you are visiting, Edwin, I can only think of one thing to say.  Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.