Laura Freeman Sings!

This week, I was reminded of my brush with Donna McKechnie.  It was back in 99 or 2000, I think. I was still living in New York and had just had my brush with the dreaded C word. I didn’t think I would ever sing again. But, my friend Bob Cline called me up and told me he had signed me up for an audition and he would not be taking any excuses, I had to go. Bob is a casting agent and was casting for the Cleveland Playhouse’s production of A Little Night Music.

Years before, I had played Petra. I knew what she was about and was confident that I would be able to pull The Miller’s Son out of my head with ease. I hadn’t sung in about 6 months and was nervous as all get out! Auditions have never really been my friend. I find them difficult, at best. Not having done any singing at all for 6 months, was not making my nerves any better.

Anyway, I arrive early and sit on a folding chair in the hallway outside the studio. I put down my bag, get out my headshot and make sure my music is in order. It’s only then that I glance at the woman sitting next to me. It’s Donna freakin McKechnie! She is there to audition for Desiree. Let me say that again…Donna McKechnie was there to audition for Cleveland freakin Playhouse’s production of Little Night Music.

All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head. Mainly…”Really!?! You win a Tony and you still have to audition?”  “Really!?! Cleveland Playhouse thinks they are all that, that when a Tony winner would agree to grace your theatre, you have them audition?” “Really!?! If this only seems crazy to me and not to Donna McKechnie, do I want to still be doing this?” Cause if you win a Tony and you still have to schlep your crap to an audition for anything other than a Broadway show, why continue? Shouldn’t it get easier? Shouldn’t there be some reward for reaching the highest pinnacle in our business? Would not auditioning anymore be asking too much?

I sat there and watched her get up and go into that room and sing Send in the Clowns for them. 2 minutes later, out she came to get her stuff and go. I was stunned.

Oh, yeah I sang great. If it wasn’t for Bob forcing me to go in for something, I probably wouldn’t be singing to this day. He saved my life. Nothing less. But, the day definitely put things in perspective for me. We will always be asking for others acceptance and praise in this business. It never gets easier. But, if you don’t love it…if it doesn’t save your life to sing for 16 bars once a week with a captive audience sitting in front of you…don’t do it. Life is short. Rejection lasts only a moment. But, singing is like breathing to me. I have to do it, or I won’t survive.  

So, you know how everybody does those end of the year lists. I thought I would do one myself.

The ten best things I saw this year.

Here goes, in the order in which I saw them:

In February, I was lucky enough to work for the touring company of Movin Out. I worked on the original tour years ago and this production was just as great. The first time, it was with Elizabeth Parkinson. She was amazing, plus she was older than I was and had just delivered and was still amazing to look at and to watch. This time around, it was kids. A non-equity tour, the average age was probably 26. They had an energy that I hadn’t had for years and it was infectious. The band was hot, the show was a joy. Well worth the ticket price and something everyone should catch!

In March, I caught Carla Gordon at Katerina’s. Not my favorite venue and not someone who I had thought would do well in a piano bar setting. Piano bar is a different animal from a show on a stage with lights and a theme. Everyone is milling around, eating, drinking, talking and Carla isn’t a wall flower who is meant to be background music. But, Carla was fun and had the crowd in the palm of her hand. Her music choices were varied, her guest singers a great compliment to her. Carla does her burlesque ballsy material one minute and then she reminds us of her heart the next.

Jason Smith did his one man show at Strawdog Theatre at the ungodly hour of 11PM, also in March. Consulting Mavis, was a monologue about growing up gay in South Dakota. But, it was more than that; it was a look back at a childhood spent in the arms of a small town community. It produced belly laughs and pulled a tear from my eye. He would later put the show together with the monologist Roberta Miles’ piece: Life: a Work in Progress. Presented at the Skokie Theatre, both pieces were fascinating. Surprisingly, the two pieces worked together and made for a great evening. Roberta was someone you would like to get to know. Her show told me so much about her and yet left me wanting more. Fascinating people creating fascinating work.

Beckie Menzie and Tom Michael. Sure they are two of my favorite people, but their show was wonderful even if I didn’t know them! Broadway Our Way demonstrates cabaret at its finest. This pair continues to impress me. The arrangements were tight. The patter was insightful and funny. Beckie will always pull my focus so Tom has to work twice as hard to attract my attention.  In this show, my head was playing tennis…my eyes darting back and forth between these two consummate performers. Who will Buy? I will!

Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I’ve seen it 3 times. Twice with Michael Cerveris and once with John Cameron Mitchell. It is one of my favorite shows. I nevertheless, had high hopes for it, when I saw it in May at the American Theatre Company.  Nick Garrison blew me out of the water. Making Hedwig his own, he added a layer of desperation and ugliness that was perfect. Sometimes when you see a show that has been polished through years of performance, you see a diamond that is perfect and that is what I saw in NY. The Chicago production was perfect in its raw, frayed flaws. No diamond, this was a performance of edginess and grit. I loved it. The piece will remain one of my favorites.

Connie Frances was a huge star. But, did you know she has recorded in more languages than any other performer? Neither did I that is until I saw Where the Boys Are. Keely Nicole Singer had a hot combo: Mark Burnell assembled a group of musicians (Michael Favreau) that understood this music and still gave space to Keely to be more than just a chick singer out in front. She made these tunes her own. Wowing the audience with her grasp of languages, I sat there with a smile on my face the entire night. Combining her life story with the life of Connie, the evening was more than a concert by a woman at the top of her game…it was an event I was pleased to have been invited to.

This was the year for Marianne Murphy Orland. I saw her amazing Carpenters show out at Skokie in the fall. I was prepared to love it, because of the evening I had watching her take part in: the Singer Spotlight at Fitzgerald’s. Marianne had the room in the palm of her hand. Jumping from standards to pop is not easy to do, especially when you have a band backing you up who has never played with you before. She managed to make me feel like these guys had been with her for years. How does one take a pop tune that you have heard a thousand times and have you “hearing it” for the first time? Take a listen to a true professional, 2009 was Marianne’s year.

Arthur Miller has always been a playwright I have enjoyed. All My Sons at the Timeline theatre was amazing. Not only is this one of my favorite Miller plays, but it was handled so well. The actors were at the top of their game. Plus, the set was so sweet. Fitting into the space perfectly, it was meticulously proped and dressed to transport me into the 1950’s. Roger Mueller and Cora Vander Broek brought to life the complicated relationship of these two characters. They both managed to find the complexities of their roles and deliver the lines with nuance and depth…not just by shouting and gnashing their teeth. I felt true pain for them and the choices they had made and were going to make. I rooted for Joe, even though he was the “bad” guy. When Edgar G. Robinson is ingrained in your head, it takes an actor of some magnitude to get the image out of it and Roger Mueller did just that.

OH NO! I’m at 10 already…I saw amazing work from so many of my colleagues this year: Amy Cole, Melissa Young, Ann McGregor, Lisa Steinman, Bradford Newquist, Hilary Ann Feldman, Heather Moran, Tracy Adams, Michelle Greenberg, Joan Curto, Robert Whorton, Alma Mendoza, Rob Dorn, Amy Orman…there are so many who rose to the occasion in a difficult year to produce wonderful work in spite of it. It’s not easy to work on your passion when your life is chaotic and work is hard to find. All of these friends and artists should be applauded.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about mimes. The rope pull into crazy fast winds. The trapped in the box thing. Mimes make me think of my childhood. I was a huge product of the variety show. For those of you too young to remember, the variety show was a mixture of music, dance and skits. Kind of like Saturday Night Live, but funny.  It was usually hosted by a television star, musician, or a strange straight man with no actual talent of his own. To most of you Ed Sullivan would come to mind. But, that was way before my time. I am from the golden age of variety shows, the 70’s. These shows featured amazingly talented performers, gowns by Bob Mackie, special guests that were exciting and featured up and coming stars. I lived for these shows and I watched them all.

Here are three of them that I couldn’t miss growing up and they aren’t who you think:

Tony Orlando and Dawn. Now we first have to discuss that “Dawn”, was in fact, two women. Not sure why it wasn’t called Tony Orlando and the Dawns, but it wasn’t. And the women, the Dawns… their names weren’t Dawn. Isn’t that weird? Why wasn’t it called Tony Orlando, Thelma and the Dumb One? Still, they were the best par t of the show. Tony always played the semi square guy, while the girls…especially Thelma Hopkins, were the funny ones. She would sass him and, as you’ll see in one of the other shows I loved, I loved a woman with sass.  Anyway, Tie a Yellow Ribbon and Knock Three Times, I had both of them on 45’s. Oh and we mustn’t forget how much Tony looked like Freddie Prinze, that started my love affair with the Latin’s…but, that is a different blog.

Sonny and Cher. First off, young Cher was gorgeous. It was before any surgeon had gone to town on her face. Before she married the young guy and danced around on a battle ship in her onesie. She was a Gypsy, a Tramp, a Thief! A Half-Breed, that was all sass and attitude, she gave Sonny the hardest time. You know I think the sass thing was because I was major I Love Lucy watcher. Lucy never sassed back and Ricky was mean to her, he deserved a good tongue thrashing. Edith certainly didn’t have a comeback to Archie’s rants. But, Cher was the smart one, the one who had the upper hand. She constantly put Sonny in his place, ruining his plans and good humor. Plus, she was tons more talented than Sonny and that seemed to be ok with him. Unlike Rickie, he wasn’t threatened that his wife wanted to be in show business.

Lastly, Shields and Yarnell. This wacky show was hosted by mimes. See, it all makes sense now doesn’t it? I don’t think they ever spoke… which makes sense, since they were mimes with a TV. show. They did all of their skits as mimes. Amazing they could fill a half an hour with silence, isn’t it? I just thought this one was so cool, cause I had never seen anything like it. They were the Mummenschanz of America. Well, not quite. They weren’t that weird. They never did the show in sheets. They were usually always people or robots or dolls. Believable things. The robot thing, you should you tube it. Amazing to any 6 or 7 year old.

Oh sure, I could go on about The Captain and Tennille show or The Mandrell Sisters or Donnie and Marie. But, I got to wind this up. Mimes can bring back all sorts of memories.

Yesterday, I did a gig at an amazing place. The Sanfilippo mansion in Barrington, Illinois is amazing. You have to see it to believe it. To say the owners of this amazing estate are collectors, is an understatement. The room, or barn, that I performed in was filled with fairground band organs, street organs, steam locomotives, train cars, cabooses, clocks, side show banners, unicycles and an amazing carousel. Everything was in tip top shape, beautifully restored and in working order. The whole room had this opalescence gold hue. It was like performing in a mirror ball. There was so much to look at; your eyes just couldn’t quite take it all in.

They had some dancers at the event who danced to the fairground band organ’s music. I was amazing to hear the Teddy Bears Picnic out of a piece of machinery from the turn of the century. It was an awe inspiring sound. Loud and joyous, it was fully orchestrated, every pipe and drum playing their part. It was also a beautiful piece of eye candy. Adorned by 6 semi naked Greek goddesses, mothers would have shielded the eyes of their sons and daughters.

At the end of the event, I got to ride the carousel; it was such a cool experience. I was in a dress, so I chose to ride side saddle. The ride JUMPED to start and I screamed, like Sarah Jessica Parker, at the pace which we took off. I really felt like I needed to be strapped in! I’m sure that was exactly like the Victorian women must have felt.

I didn’t get to go up to the main house, but they own the world’s largest privately owned Wurlitzer organ in the world. They built a special room for it. I have to go back and see it!

Many wealthy people collect things. This family had chosen not only to collect, but lovingly restore bits of history that would otherwise not be preserved for the future. They are open for tours and I strongly recommend going, what an amazing sight for music lovers.

You know what’s crazy? Getting to be an age where death is starting to enter into the equation.

When you are a kid, maybe your grandparents die and some random kid, some random way throughout your schooling, might pass away. But, rarely does anyone super close to you. As a kid you are indestructible, immortal, a daredevil who seeks danger and laughs in the face of death. The older you get, maybe it’s because of a breakdown in our bodies that we feel more and more every day, the more you must deal with the inevitable. Someone you know will die.

Personally, I have been very lucky so far. My parents are young. I haven’t had to make any major decisions about their health. I haven’t watched them deteriorate before my eyes. Just a few grey hairs, really…the same ones I have covered up every 3 months. In fact, my family is just starting to grow. With nephews and family planning taking place, the family is expanding rather than dwindling.

But, when I was a teenager, my Mother’s parents died. I wasn’t very good at helping out. I was a teenager…I was involved in my own life with its “huge, important” problems. I barely even remember my Mother grieving. But, I know she did. I know it was really hard for her to lose them in a short span of time, to deal with family dysfunction in the midst of it all and to make hard, hard decisions about someone else’s life. I wasn’t there for her at all. As an adult, I’m ashamed I wasn’t present enough to think about someone else and how much they were hurting. I’m embarrassed that I was a child.

Still, it’s hard to know how to comfort the living when someone does pass on. What do you say, that can even add the slightest bit of comfort to them? How do you go about your own life, when someone you love is experiencing so much pain? If I could stroke away the hurt I would. If I could embrace away the pain, I would hold on for as long as it took. But, the truth is…death is a part of life. Everyone experiences loss. No one more than others. Everyone will lose their parents, their best friend, their siblings, their loved ones. No one is immune. No one is spared.

So, it is with a heavy heart that I mourn Earl Moshinsky. I grieve with his loved ones. For as an adult, I understand the pain, for I know it is only a second away from being mine.

I’ve been thinking a lot, the last few days, about marketing. About marketing me, specifically. How does one market themselves? Am I marketing me as myself or me as a product and is there a difference? If it is the same thing…do you assume that everyone is dying to know about you and your life and bombard them with information, using every available technological communication device out there? MySpace, Face book, Twitter, Email, YouTube, etc. etc? Or do you do it the old fashioned way, by getting out there and shaking a few hands. I know it is probably a combination of the two, but how much is too much? When does it become annoying? Do your people really want to know “What Friends star you look like?” or “What are your top 5 breakfast items?” Does anyone really care? Is it just important to stay talked about or in front of people as much as possible? Is publicity and marketing the same thing?

Stars are apparently Twittering these days. Someone is advising them that being out there in any way is good for their careers. Still, do they really have nothing better to do? I mean most of them should be busy with highly interesting and demanding careers, peppered with all of the charities they fight for, high profile dates they are on, and reality shows they are a part of. It seems like they should just be too busy to Twitter us that they are online at Trader Joe’s. And are there actually people who care? Do they care more when Patrick Swayze is on line then they do Aunt Maude, when her status says the same thing? Maybe he has more interesting things in his cart then Maude, but, really aren’t they living the same life at that moment?

If you aren’t pushing a movie or album or book, do you need publicity? Is it cooler to be Pacino and fade into the background when you don’t have something relevant to say? I mean we never read about where he just ate and how his entourage beat up some girl at a club last night. He does his job of promoting his product, when there is an outside product to sell. He doesn’t seem to promote HIM at all. I think that makes him seem more of a star in a way. The shine is still on him, since I don’t know how he likes his latte. I am glad to see him when he is on a press junket, since it’s been months since I saw him last. But, what if you are hardly Pacino? What if you are just a singer in a small market, in an even smaller genre? Can you afford to take this aloof stance? Can you afford to just show up a few days before the gig and say take me or leave me? Or do you have to be way pushier to get an audience? Do you have to be in everyone’s and anyone’s face, hoping against hope they won’t decide to stay in on your big night and watch Lost.

Do I need to stay talked about, whatever it takes? Some people will remark that there is no such thing as bad publicity, that any publicity is good publicity. But what about mindless publicity? Trader Joes, breakfast items…isn’t that just taking up brain cells in your fans? Do they become numb to you and your information, if they see it every day…everywhere…all the time? Will they get sick of me, like they got sick of Lindsey, Brittney and the Obama’s dog? Or am I just SO special, everyone is just dying to know what bathroom scent is my favorite? Will this information get me more people in my show? Or will this info make my real event just as easy to hide and ignore?

Speaking of marketing, if you haven’t done so already, have a look around my site – please, there is plenty of other material here aside from my blog – music, videos, pictures and a listing of my top 5 breakfast items (just kidding)!

“Wanna watch a movie?

Sure, what?

Midnight Meat Train.

Ugh. I don’t like to watch scary movies at night!

You won’t be watching it alone. I’ll be here.

Fine.”

In goes Midnight Meat Train. And so begins my night of terror. As I sit on the couch, watching a butcher hone his craft, I wonder why boogie men have ceased to be monsters. Where are the days of Godzilla’s and Mothra’s? Gone are the creatures from space or black lagoons. You can’t even find a bad guy who kills for moral reasons. Using his killings to knock off the evil, pre-coital, cheating, lying bastards of the world, he serves a true noble purpose.

 Now they are all psychopaths. The killings are random. Plus, you can’t just kill someone and move on…no, you must torture them, dismember them, show their entrails to the folks. It is way more disturbing to me then monsters.

There I am, with my hands in front of my eyes.

“What is he doing?

He’s removing his teeth.

All of them? Why?

I don’t know.

Now what’s he doing?

He’s pulling out their fingernails.

Why? Where are you going?

To get a beer.”

He leaves me on the couch alone with no where to look but between my fingers at the carnage. Now he is taking out their eyeballs. Why is the question. They are dead. They aren’t going to be identifying anyone. They are not going to plead for their lives. They are dead!!!  So what is with the dismemberment? Is it that as an audience we require our eye candy of filth, to be new every time? Smuched by an elevator…seen it. Eyeballs popped out by woodpecker…seen it. Pickaxe through the crotch…seen it. What is left? And why must we be there to watch it?

Reaching for it, the movie did have a point. Sometimes when good people see bad things, horrific things, the image changes them. They can never be happy ignorant worker bees, living life unaware of suffering and unnecessary pain.  And that kind of darkness, invades the hero’s mind and soul. He can’t help but be enveloped by it. I get it. That kind of truth is all around me, everyday, on every channel.

Give me a Saturday morning creature feature any day. I choose to be that cockeyed optimist. I want to see the strings, the edge of the prosthetic hand, the boom mic’s shadow. I get enough of the real darkness on the news. Real life is scary enough. I’ll keep my entertainment dollar for entertainment.

It’s been years, but this week… I, (Laura Freeman) used my equity card. This is huge. Not everyone works all the time. Most people don’t. Plus, I didn’t have to sing the whole 2 days. I was an actor type. Not a singer type. Pretty cool.

 The two day, equity card using, event was a program that a big law firm puts together, to give their beginner lawyers court room experience. Well, a pretend adjudicated court room experience. They hire a bunch of actors to be on the stand and then the lawyers have to lead a direct or cross, depending on what side you are on. It was so much fun. Basically, you are participating in a large 2 hour improve session. Luckily, there were parameters. You were given the witnesses’ deposition and you had to memorize those facts. But, you had no idea what most of the lawyers were going to ask you and how your testimony was going to be used against you…if you memorized incorrectly or didn’t have that information as fact and you were now improving on something a lawyer was going to turn around on you. That part was weirdly scary. “What if they find out I’m lying?” Boggles the mind, it does.

OK, I am in the chair. My lawyer has asked me if I have read the contract. I cringe a little inside. It is not clear in the deposition if I have or have not read the whole thing. I take a leap and say NO, I haven’t read the whole thing. I just know about the sketches and the written detail specifications. This is not part of the contract. Nope, no way. You need to sound sure of yourself. There is even a jury and bailiffs in each court room. You want to sound credible!

On cross…that bastard made me read the headlines of the contract that said specifically: Detail Specifications. There they were in the contract. So, I had read them. DOH! Thinking fast, I say well, my boss just gave the specifications to me. I had no idea they were part of the contract, since I just got these two pages. All the rest of this…Gobbledygook….I didn’t read that, there was no reason to. The old, I just work here defense.

Gobbledygook, a lawyer type term I must have heard on LA Law.  What the hell? I mean I pulled out of my ass “sophisticated customer”, “safety precautions”, “prior written authorization”, I had dates and dimensions…hell, the name of the place was Northwest Dredge and Dock…try saying that 3 times fast. But, referring to the contract as Gobbledygook, was by far the smartest thing I did all day. The fancy bastard beginner lawyer didn’t know what to do with my fancy lawyer type term. He dropped the whole thing!

Since Hollywood came on the scene, Broadway has added it to its list of muses.  New York has taken themes from books and music, headlines and folktales. Why it’s only a matter of time when The Adams Family does its pre-Broadway try out in Chicago.

Why was Dirty Dancing so distasteful? It’s not like Hollywood romantic comedies haven’t been tried before. We’ve had The Wedding Singer, Legally Blonde, and High Fidelity. Well, the last one didn’t exactly have a long life…14 performances? For god’s sake, Shrek just opened. Theatrical pieces out of movies have been tried, with various levels of success, for years.

Is there a person in the world who hasn’t seen Dirty Dancing? It is one of those guilty pleasures. TNT can be showing it and I can be flipping the channels and if the last 10 minutes are all that’s left, I’ll watch it. It was sweet and fun. Swayze was at his hunkiest. Jennifer was pre-op. It was a great film.

So why was the play so bad? Probably because, it was EXACTLY like the movie…there were no new characterizations. No new developments or new responses even. Ok…maybe that is what people came to see. People love those sing along musicals you can see at Art Houses around the country. Sing along Rocky Horror, Sound of Music, and Mary Poppins. You know, they have a few actors show up and stand near the screen and act out the movies, in costume. Then everyone sings along with the songs. Fun. But, at most, one ticket costs you $15.00. This is a Broadway show…we’re talking $80.00 for the cheap seats. Let me reiterate…you can rent the movie from the bargain bin and watch it at home for $3.00 or you can get dressed up and watch the movie…I mean the play…for $80.00.

First problem, the actors LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE THE FILM ACTORS. Baby’s nose, short curly bob, body type, down to the inflection she used for each line. Johnny had a hideous Patrick Swayze wig, the same bulging muscles, and the same dead pan delivery. It was eerie. Couldn’t the director at least give us someone new to look at?

Second, the blocking WAS EXACTLY THE SAME. How did they achieve this? Why they used a large cyclorama with digital imagery of the movies backgrounds. The woods, the river…they even used a large log…remember that scene when they danced on the log over the river and then they fell in and you sat there with the stupidest grin on your face? Well, the play had the log, digital images of the river in the background and on the floor (why, I couldn’t tell you…NO ONE in the audience could see it), the same stupid dialogue, same inflection, same choreography…it was so weird. Why pay anyone on the production team. The actors, if you want to call them that, could have just watched the movie and copied it step by step.

Plus, there was no original music. It was as if I was in the kitchen while the movie was on and could just hear the sound track from the next room. All of the jukebox music was used, in the same places in the story. Sometimes chorus members sang them…using the SAME VOICES as the original performers. They mimicked Jennifer Warnes and Bill Medley, down to the growl and scoop. As a side note, they didn’t use She’s like the Wind or Hungry Eyes. I missed them. That’s right…Baby and Johnny didn’t sing in the movie…so, they didn’t sing here. The friggin sister had that stupid song in the talent show, so she got to sing. If I were the lead, I would have had my agent make a call.

The crazy thing is in London they love it. What do I know? But in my opinion, someone should put Baby in a corner. A corner with the movie and a box of popcorn.

Last night a good friend had her first solo show. Usually a scary thing that requires a bit of bravery all by itself, this show was doubly hard as it was days after her father had passed away suddenly a week or so after Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have done it. The only other option would have been to cancel and I am sure her Father would not have wanted her to do that. There really was no choice. She had to go on.

Too make the night even harder, there they were…her entire family in the front row. At times, they were comforting each other. At times, they were so over come, they had to leave the room all together. The performance space is intimate and fairly bright, so not only could the audience witness this play within a play, but so could the performer. How did she not break down? Oh a few times, we heard the voice crack, but she kept it together. With sheer will and determination, God, that was one tough broad!

I couldn’t have done it, I’ll say it again. I joked afterwards, and thought about my family in the front row. “If I heard even a sniffle out of my Mom, I would have stopped the show and made her move into the dark, where I couldn’t see or hear her for the rest of the performance.” But, in reality, I would want her that close. To be that naked and not have that unconditional love staring up at you, sharing in your pain…I can’t imagine the loneliness that you would have felt.  And yet, to see the mixture of proud, strength, love, grief, anger…all of those things on my Mother’s face. I would have had problems not looking at her the entire time. Wanting to make sure she was ok. That it was not too much for her. Everyone else in the room would have faded away. But, that didn’t happen.

My friend reached new places in her music. Showing us heart in more of her tunes that before. She lived in the lyrics, found depth in the words and wanted us to feel what she was feeling. When it was time for an up-tempo, you felt the lightness come into her bones and her face. When it was time for a ballad, you were taken to her pain and lived there with her for 3 minutes.

In the last few weeks, as I have been getting my own spring show off the ground, I’ve thought a lot about the importance of what I do and who I do it for. And yeah, I bring a little joy and lightness to people…especially now with everything being so scary in the world. But, maybe I do this a lot for myself, too. Look at all of the wonderful things that my friend received last night. She was bathed in love, from family and friends. She got to express her feelings in song, sharing her talents with a room full of supportive fans. She gave her gift to her family and to the memory of her father’s love. And she impressed me with her true bravery, humility and humanity, at a time of huge grief. I applaud her.