Friday, July 4, 2014

The Band Wife

It happened one night at Burt's Tiki Lounge in Salt Lake City, as the band showed up to play a gig. As usual, the members of the different bands would introduce each other and their plus- ones. Adam, our trombone guy, had introduced my husband, Matt, to someone when I approached. "And this," he said, gesturing toward me, "is the band wife."
Later he said that he had meant to say "Matt's wife," but somehow he slipped it up. The slip stuck.

Well, I guess it does fit, even if I only sleep with the drummer. I've shuttled the band around as needed for the past few years, hosted them at my home probably hundreds of times, served them meals, put Redmond clay on their bee stings, taken their pictures a billion times, given them vitamins and essential oil blends... ok, this is starting to sound more like "band mom."

I don't mind any of it. I never really have, unless I've had work in the morning and couldn't get the band home until 3 a.m. That doesn't happen so much anymore now that more band members have vehicles. One even has a van. That's changed a few things. But band practice is still held at my house, where we happen to have the space.

It's been a crazy three years (or whatever). We've endured some serious tragedies and setbacks, most notably with the suicide- by- fire of our dear friend and percussionist Sean Romero last year.  We've had two violinists quit, a clarinet player join, and now we have a new challenge: Matt's busted knee.

Apparently he's going to need surgery on his ACL. He's in a wheelchair now, which complicates the hell out of things. It's going to be interesting...

Show from April 2012 featuring Sean Romero on washboard and maracas, with Angela Moore on violin:

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