3-5-18 GIG

Sixty years ago today I got my body. WooHoo! My mom facilitated the gig for me in Grandma Eaton's Maternity Home there in the little town of Shelley, Idaho. I was the last of my mother's children to be born in a house. Grandma Eaton, the midwife who wasn't really our grandma, retired before my sister Libby was born 15 months after me, so Lib was delivered in an honest to goodness hospital in Idaho Falls. Thanks, Mom, from all of us!

It's pretty darn awesome to have lived this long! Life is such a great gig. It may not always be pleasurable, but it really is never boring.

We musicians use the term gig just about every day. A gig to us is basically an engagement to play or sing or perform. There really is no better term for what we do. "Performance" is sometimes too big, too... stuffy. And a concert is a concert, not a gig. The thing about doing gigs is that they represent the awesome variety of jobs we have. We play in all sorts of places, for all sorts of people.

Being a folk musician/ singer-songwriter is not the kind of job that's going to make anyone rich, unless you're Joni Mitchell in the 70's. It's also the kind of work that is not likely to make anyone famous.

One day, a few years back, Dave and I were paying our respects to the family of a friend who had passed away It was a rainy day in Kaysville, Utah. As we were leaving, there was a sudden downpour, so I stood under a little porch overhang while Dave ran to get the car. Two other women stood there waiting for their rides as well. We were clustered so close together, and no one was saying anything, so I said:

"Hi. My name is Cori." I was about to ask them how they knew the deceased, but one of the women spoke up and said, "Oh, we know who you are." I responded with "Oh, how do I know you?"

She answered, "Oh you don't know us. We're nobodies. And you're famous." I laughed and said, "Oh yeah, I'm famous in Kaysville, Utah" The other woman spoke up and said, "No, you're probably famous in Farmington, too!"

By then our rides had pulled up and the women dispersed before I even got their names. But I have since then had to regularly keep a check on my ego as I pondered the greatness of being famous in Kaysville AND Farmington Utah. (our two little towns are right next door to each other).

I was fortunate today to have an afternoon gig at a relatively small retirement home in Bountiful. A few times a month I sling my guitar over my shoulder and head to places where people have a hard time getting out to enjoy music. Heart and Soul is a non-profit organization I have been blessed to be part of for roughly 20 years. Today I walked into this charming assisted-living home and about a dozen beautiful white haired women sat in a half circle around a large fireplace waiting for me. I talked and I sang and they sang along and clapped and were just wonderful. I remember this one particular woman who sat directly in front of me. Whenever my eyes met hers, as I was singing, she would mouth the word "Beautiful" to me. What a lovely thing for her to do. Encouragement for a stranger, repeating over and over in that unlikely place, was a perfect gift. I told them that it was my birthday, and they apologized that I had to come sing on my special day. I responded that I consider it an awesome blessing to be able to gig at the age of 60, and still have anyone want to hear me! They were so loving and gracious. It was a delightful gig for me.

Tonight three of my sisters and my brother, brother in law, and Dave all took me to dinner at Ruth's Chris Steak House. I had never been to Ruth's Chris (isn't that an awkward name?). I'd heard it was delicious fare, but expensive, and I am relatively cheap, so I would always pick somewhere more affordable to visit. But for this big B-day I conceded and let myself be pampered. We had a great night. I realize what a treasure it is to be able to share a table with my siblings. They showered me with tokens of love, and we gobbled up the goodness and the laughter and the cherished company. When we were done our server brought out a sweet Happy Birthday dessert. What a feast of love and deliciousness! After I had opened gifts the manager of the restaurant came over and asked if we had enjoyed our dinner. We all cheered, thanking them for the great food and service. He said, "Well Happy Birthday! The hits just keep coming, don't they?" Then he told us that one of their guests at the restaurant tonight happened to be a fan of my music and had already paid for our dinner. 

Say WHAT!?

"Really," he repeated, "Your dinners have already been paid for, with the tip, and we hope you have a wonderful birthday."

My jaw dropped. Like, this:

We  all looked at each other, saying, "OK, did you do this?" Suspecting that one of us secretly tried to cover the bill, which was basically the same monetary amount as two airfares to New York and back.

When I saw the shock and awe on everyones faces I realized he had spoken truth. Someone HAD paid for my birthday dinner. And they had not only anonymously paid for my birthday dinner, they had also paid for the dinners of the people I hold dear.

Whomever you are, you have just put my 60th birthday OVER THE TOP in the magical category!

As I was riding home I was pondering how amazing it felt to have this secret wonderful thing just happen, and I thought that it was magnified by the fact that he or she had acknowledged that these people who have loved me my whole life are part of my music. They have been roadies to my gigs, suffered through various iterations of songs as I have written them. They have gone without dinner because I usually gig at night, and without clean clothes when I've been making albums. They have decorated stages with me at midnight, and sold CD's, and assigned preferred seating, and loved and encouraged me when I needed it most. So the delight of having had someone acknowledge in such a magical way that even simple folk music can be a team effort, well that made my heart almost burst.

I'm still quite stunned by it all. And so honored. And so grateful. 

Whomever you are; wherever you are; HERE'S TO YOU! This is a memory I will always cherish!

And I promise not to let it go to my head too much. I mean, now I am famous not only in Kaysville and Farmington, but at Ruth's Chris as well!

Happy Birthday to me!