Twelve years ago I was standing in the bitter January cold watching President Clinton get sworn in for the second time and thinking about how amazing it is to be an American citizen. Well this year it's going to be me in my jammies watching the inauguration on youtube or some other streaming video, thinking about how amazing guaifenesin syrup is and how it's almost completely gotten rid of the crud on my cords in the last four days. Four days of no singing, tea and honey and lemon and water, and a lot A LOT of television. It's not in my nature to take illness lying down. I'm usually the first person to beat feet to the doctor's office. But this time, that role was taken up by my sweet husband who was all over me like a duck on a june bug to get my ass to the doctor. But here's what I've learned about being a singer. No matter what's going on in your throat, unless it's bacterial, there ain't shit a doctor can do for you. They will offer you antibiotics that won't work, they will offer you a steroid injection to make a short-term difference that could enable long-term damage, and they will tell you what your mother always told you: go home, get some rest, drink lots of fluids and eat soup. Well this time, I'm listening. I almost spent more time running to the loo than I did on Liz's sofa, thanks to the double-fisted cocktail of tea and water, coupled with the magical G sauce. Pity I couldn't find mucinex over here - it doesn't taste nearly as nasty as that syrup. Yeech. Bleh. Gak.
My old friend Molly got me thinking about optimism. A lot of people are waiting for Barack Obama to be the saviour of the nation, and a lot of people are waiting for him to fall on his face and renege on the promises made during his campaign. The mantra of 'change' has affected everyone I know, cynic and optimist alike, prompting them to wonder what form this 'change' will take. Molly put forth the idea that even changing the way people think about optimism, about hope, is a move in the right direction, and I'm gonna get behind her on this one. I can be hopeful that things will be better. I can hope that this new president will have the intelligence and the tenacity to jump in and get his hands dirty, to look at things with fresh eyes (nearly wrote French eyes there - guess who hasn't had caffeine in days??) and try to steer things closer to a course that's right for most of the people, not right for most of the right. And I can hope that four years from now, we'll still have the faith in him that we do now, and we'll elect him all over again. Because I want my kids to grow up with hope and faith in their nation.
So what's the moral for the day? Vote and take your vitamins.
Gratitude:
1. four years of hope, coming this way
2. modern medicine in the form of mucinex
3. licorice tea and manuka honey - tastes better than cough drops
4. the opportunity to sing on a world stage - pray hard that the voice is ready. Shit, pray hard that I'm ready.
5. my incredible friends and husband, drawing near from all over the world to bear witness to this huge event in my career.
T minus four days till opening night.
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