Last night at a picking party, I sat outside in the lovely non-muggy sunshine instead of sitting inside listening to music. It’s been so dang beautiful here, almost California like (sniff sniff), that I hated to miss any outside time. And, Husband was nice enough to bring me a glass of wine and there were interesting and entertaining people around so I sat in the sun and chatted and blathered over-shared and generally had a good time. BUT, it was a picking party people are there to play music and I felt I should listen to some music so inside I went and stood quietly (I think) in the kitchen. A few songs later, I took the opportunity of the lull in the playing to visit the bathroom, located just off the main room where everyone was sitting and singing.
It shouldn’t have been a thing BUT I’m me. And just as I sat down to pee, the music started up again.
Now, picking parties, for all you non-Nashville folk, are a gathering of folk taking turns playing their songs in a round. Usually, most everyone in the group can sing or play or both so they join in and harmonize or juice up the guitar or whatever. But as I sat, knickers at my knees, the woman a few steps away on the other side of the bathroom door started a profound and meaningful and very, very quiet song.
A song no one knew.
A song that required the rest of the group to hush and listen, heads slightly tilted, furrowed brows, deep understanding on their faces.
While I sat peeing, adding a rather unmelodic background to the reverence of the moment.
Now, I can’t emphasis how much the wine led to the giggles here. And the giggles led to me standing paralyzed on one side of the bathroom door while the moment went on on the other side, debating whether to flush, when in the verse to flush, how to wash my hands in the rhythm of the song. By the time I was done with all that needed doing, I was in tears.
And I was still in the bathroom.
And the beautiful quiet song filled with all the feelings was still being sung.
And the group of musicians was still silently hushed.
And I was still in the bathroom.
I started to think I might be in there for days. And then I started to think, what if someone watched me go into the bathroom and not come out for ages and began to think that there was something wrong with me? Not, “Wow, ej’s had a lot of wine” wrong, but tummy troubles wrong, like frat boy movie, break the toilet wrong? And that sent me on another wave of giggles as I pictured the woman still singing and the person nodding and enjoying the music while keeping one eye on the door, wondering what I was up to in the bathroom.
“Come on ej! Pull it together” I told myself in the mirror. Wiping the tears from my face, wry look of encouragement to my silly self in the mirror, I opened the bathroom door, fully intending to slip into the hallway and unobtrusively stand there looking deep and nodding to the music like the rest of the group. But I’m me and I’d had wine and the door squeaked (!!!) and my friend was standing just on the other side of the door and he laughed when I came out and I was not subtle at all as I burst into giggles again. Right at the end of the deep meaningful song filled with all the feelings.
I put myself on time out outside after that. Pretty sure I shouldn’t have wine in polite company again. Or use the bathroom.
Then again, maybe peeing, flushing and water running will be the ‘new sound’ all songs need. It does add a bit of realism to it all. I mean, everybody feels and everybody pees…