GOOOOOBAMA!

I'm starting to sound like a broken record, I'm aware. I really wanted to give you all a thorough recap of the inaugural ball, but it just seems almost like a moot point at this juncture. It was almost two weeks ago, and I don't want to say "I'm over it," because it's certainly an experience that I will keep with me forever, but the thought of going into detail just exhausts me. So, forgive me, but you guys are getting a pictorial summary.

If you want more detail, I live-blogged the entire day for B, the site. You can read more posts than you ever wanted about my inauguration day festivities in the following series of posts:
-Live Inauguration Journey Blogging
-[Downbeat]'s Inauguration Journey Blog
-More here
-In-the-office Inauguration Watching
-[Downbeat]'s Inauguration musical inspiration/speech reaction
-[Downbeats] plans her D.C. departure
-Maybe meeting the President? [Downbeats] gets her nails done
-Watching the parade, ready to hit the road
-[Downbeats] arrives in D.C. in record time
-From [Downbeats], Mom's tips for going to an inaugural ball
-Standing in the cold before the ball
-Manolos, Frisking, and Stevie Wonder
-Annie Liebowitz, stranded in D.C.? and more
-And the best post title ever. Wait for it. Liquid Pleasure, too many balls

As I mentioned in my postings for B, the Maestro was deathly ill. He made a noble attempt to put a smile on my face and get to the ball. He wore his tails, made it all the way to the Metro platform, and it was clear that he just couldn't make it, so he stayed back at O's place in Chevy Chase and watched the festivities on CNN.

I do think that him not being there actually made me a better blogger/reporter. It gave me purpose for being there even though I didn't have a date. I was more intentional about meeting people and finding out their stories so that I could relay them to the people at home reading.

I met two ladies who had been best friends for 35 years. One of them was a TV reporter from Seattle and was doing a little bit of coverage for her station back at home while there. The other was a PR specialist here in Maryland. They were kind and let me tag along with them for the night. Liquid Pleasure opened up the evening. There was plenty of room to dance, and so that's what we did.



I really wasn't expecting much from them when they marched out on stage in those red sequined tuxedos, but these guys were showmen. They played Motown covers, funk, and R&B. They kept us quite entertained for a good hour or so.



James Taylor came on finally a little after 11 and was all we thought he was going to be and more.



People were so high on Obama positive vibes that night. A man seriously stopped me in my tracks to tell me that I was beautiful and that he wanted me to take my picture for me so that I could "see what [he] saw." He wasn't trying to mack on me. His wife was was within an arm's length. I don't think he was drunk either. He was just so happy that Obama was President. Here was the result:



I tried to stay until My President got there, but word was that he and Michelle weren't showing up until 2 or 2:30. By midnight, I felt like I was going to die, so I headed home after I got separated from my newfound friends for the second time that evening. Once sitting on the Metro, it was clear that lots of business and organizations in D.C. were happy that the Obamas had come to town, too. Check out the ads that were immediately around me:




The Maestro was there at the Bethesda Metro station to pick me up when I got off the train. We went back to O's and holed up on the couch. He looked like this



I couldn't even think of being upset for him not going. Look at that punim.

Anyway, two weeks late, I hope you all had a happy inauguration, too.

Jazz...

...was not my first love.

...took me awhile to "get."

...has followed my personal taste and musical proclivities through more than half of my life.

...is something my mother and I share other than DNA.

...made me a better musician.

...makes me prouder to be an American than I would be otherwise.

...has seen me through breakups, make-ups, and the deaths of my father and great-grandmother.

...took me to France and Switzerland as a performer.

Jazz might not be my first love, but it definitely has proven to be one of my most profound. I consider myself beyond lucky to be able to spend a weekend surrounded by some of the best jazz artists in this country-- watching my heart grow larger by the minute for an art form I haven't yet lived enough life to fully grasp.

These people allowed me into their lives this past weekend:

--Bonnie Brammlett


--Kevin Mahogany


--Cyrus Chestnut


--Al Jarreau

Already checked out

In about 24 hours, I'll be pulling up to a little patch of heaven on Earth that looks like this:



I will be serenaded by this man:



Perhaps I will indulge in one of these:



I will more than certainly indulge in a lot of this, however:



Forgive me if despite the fact that I have yet to check into our resort, I'm already checked out of Charm City.

Wino Wednesday

Wherein I pretend to know something about wine to justify my affinity for all things alcoholic

I have a confession to make: the Maestro, Troy and I have developed an addiction Port wine. I know it's supposed to be served in small portions as a dessert wine, but we like imbibe Port in larger portions before, during, and after dinner. In fact, we don't even need to have a meal to have a big glass of the stuff. I guess you could say we're not as refined as I we like to pretend we are. In fact, we love Port so much that it was a no-brainer that Troy's Christmas present was going to include a bottle.

One of my favorites when I'm out and about is W. & J. Graham's Six Grapes. It's full of flavor, sweet and smooth, but not as thick and syrupy as lots of other Ports can be. It's the kind of wine you can drink in jeans and a t-shirt and feel at home. Out and about at dinner, a glass of the stuff is also way more affordable than other Ports as well. A healthy pour of Graham's Six Grapes at some of my favorite haunts will only set you back between $6 and $8 a glass which is nothing for an after-dinner drink. Seeing that it's won so many awards, that's a down-right bargain!



I would also be remiss without mentioning that because it's so potent (20% alcohol by volume), one shouldn't consume more than a glass when out and about if you're planning on driving home. This is a great wine to curl up by the fireplace with your lady or gentleman of choice and a blanket to wash the aches and pains of the day away.

For more information about all of W. & J. Graham's ports, visit their corner of cyberspace here.

What brings sunshine to my snowy mornings

I know, I know, I know. It's been a week since the inaugural festivities and I owe everyone some inaugural ball updates. It is my sincere hope that that gets done before I bust this joint and leave on a jet plane this weekend.

In the meantime, however, I wanted to share a little ex parte communication I received this morning in my Facebook inbox that I brought a smile to my tired and worn face. (Ex parte, for those of you who don't watch as much Law & Order as I do, occurs when a lawyer takes a motion to the judge without the presence of the other party.)

The electronic audition notice for Full Monty went out a few days ago to the e-mail listserv to everyone and their mom in Baltimore theatre belongs. Since my name was listed as part of the production staff, I wouldn't have been surprised to get a note or two giving me a heads up that certain people would be coming to the audition. I certainly was not expecting something to light up my life like this did, however.

By the by, all names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Subject: hello my favorite sexagenarian!

OK, so I'm going to audition for THE FULL MONTY, and saw your name as vocal director. That doubles the reasons I want to do it (Three main reasons, in no particular order: 1. to work with you again, 2. to work with [insert name of cool director here] again, 3. My lifelong dream to wear tearaway pants). Will you be at auditions? I gotta figure out what to sing....I always do terribly at... auditions.

Speaking of the audition....will we have to show the goods at the audition? I just want to know how much fluffing I will have to do in preparation. HAHAHAHAHA

I laughed so hard I cried. Just when I think I'm sick of theatre (and theatre people more especially), someone reaches out to me and reminds me that there's this group of people in the world with my exact same constitution and sense of humor.

Wino Wednesday

I feel like the title of this blog post is a little bit of a blatant lie tease, because I'm not going to recommend a delicious beverage for you in this edition. No... I'm still too high off of the inauguration to do that, so I'm going to spend the rest of the week providing you all with anecdotes from my inauguration day. Don't worry: this one is booze-related. I send you apologies in advance for hearing tidbits of my story out of sequence, but chronologically this falls closer towards the end of my evening.

I was trying so hard to stay at the ball until Prince Charming Barack and Michelle got there, but word spread pretty early on in the evening that the Eastern Ball would be the last one of the evening they would intend, and they weren't expected to arrive until 2:30 am. Then the Maestro texted me from O's house where he was watching CNN (long story that you'll get parts of later) to inform me that Barack and Michelle were actually expected to arrive at 2 am. Either way, by midnight my stilettos had me feeling like I'd just run a marathon without feet on my ankles and I could barely hold my head up. I had gotten separated for the second time from new inauguration ball friends and decided to just head home around 1:00. One of the many lovely things about being in Union Station was that after I picked up my coat from the check closet, I could walk right out of the ball and onto the Metro. I caught the next (half empty) train towards Bethesda and found myself a nice seat in the corner of the car.

As the train got to Metro Center however, it filled up with attendants from other balls and a couple wound up sitting in the row behind mine. At first, I thought that they were having a domestic dispute in dulcet tones until I started listening closer and realizing that they were both completely plastered on champagne (I would recommend that for this week's installment of Wino Wednesday, but it was $7 a glass and not the Korbel that the Obamas were served for their inaugural luncheon). They were plastered on the cheap inaugural ball champagne and they were arguing over whether she was going to wait until she got off the train to purge the contents of her stomach by way of her esophagus or go ahead and do it right there. Against her date's wishes, she opted to wait as far as she could get her head into the bottom of her handbag. And instead of my inauguration night ending on the high note of Barack Obama sweeping me off my feet and asking me to dance with him at the ball, it ended listening to a woman ralph into her lap two feet away from my head. And then smelling the putrid odor of cheap champagne and stomach acid.

Hey... at least this guy went back to where he came from.

Happy Barack-Obama-is-President-today Day!

I just blog for fun, and I really don't feel that I'm particularly good at it (and that wasn't a neurotic self-deprecating ploy to get you say otherwise, I assure you). Today, however, I feel the need to be serious and articulate, because they're actually publishing what I say in a place where lots of people go to get their Baltimore news.

That's right, ladies and gents... mosey on over to B the site and read about my day. And hope that I don't say something stupid.