GRAMMY Week

It’s GRAMMY week. I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love it when I’m nominated. 😀 Which isn’t very often. Otherwise, it can ruffle all kinds of feels at this stage in my life and career. Like how did I get to be one of the oldest people at these parties?

They’re ongoing and exhausting. But once I’m there I’m mostly happy. Plus if I stop going they’ll stop inviting me. 

I Uber to Party #1 — The Kobalt hang. I was one of their first signees back when everyone was asking “What is Kobalt?” It’s on the rooftop of the London. As soon as I step into the space I realize I’ve over-layered. There’s a tent this year and heaters. Darn…I could have worn that sleeveless frock. Oh well. This is about music and celebrating remarkable achievements … not the fashion. Actually, that’s not entirely true. 

I’ve alternated the same 2 outfits to the BMI Awards over the last 10 years. Black halter. Black blazer. Nobody notices. And I’ve saved so much money. 

“What are you working on,” I’m asked. “A musical,” I reply. I think it’s a unique endeavor but everyone is working on a musical. Not unlike the mass pivot songwriters made into TV licensing when they realized there was no more dependable income in streaming. I know not what I’m doing but I dig working on it. I have a little book of inspirations in my … umm bathroom and one of the quotes says, “If you only do what you know you can do — you never do very much.” (Tom Krause) Touche. 

It’s good to be around people. The song “People” from Funny Girl never sang so loudly as it has these past few years. Recent studies show we’re happier when we engage with other people. I’ve been talking to strangers more than ever before. And every time I do I feel a little zing of serotonin.

Here I am with one of my favorite co-writers of all time Wally Gagel along with ‘Queen of Nashville’ Whitney Daane, and artist /Elvis look-alike (imo) Jessy Fury. 

I exchange cell numbers with folks I exchanged numbers with last year. We never called. 

There are many familiar faces whose names I can’t recall.  There really should be a version of Shazam that identifies humans you’ve met before if you hold your phone (discretely) within their range. We can call the APP ‘Who-Dat?”

Night #2 Party #1 my scheduled Uber tells me they’re ‘looking for a driver’ ten minutes after my pre-scheduled ride was supposed to arrive. Wtf? What’s the point of scheduling a ride? I’ll have to drive. Not happy. Traffic! Parking! I can’t have cocktails! And the cocktails will be free! Wahhh!

I get over it. 

I pay for parking. 

I meet my friend/recording artists Stacey at the MMF party. She’s my “Little.” If you saw the film Role Model you know what I mean. I like hearing what’s happening in Stacey’s world. It makes me feel young by proximity. 

A few ppl approach and tell me they loved my book. That ALONE is worth coming out for. 

I’m going SOLO to Party #2. But … do I drive to another parking lot or Uber there in which case I’ll have to Uber back to get my car later. I call an Uber.  I see “looking for a driver” and I cancel. Fuck Uber. I’m so Mad at Uber. 

Party #2 is a madhouse. Ride shares and limos are jammed in front of the venue. But what? Someone is pulling out of a street spot? Karma! That spot is mine!   

The FNF (Friend and Family party) is massive. It feels like everyone in the music business is HERE. How can all these ppl be making a living? There’s simply not enough to go around any more. 

It gets more crowded every year. The players and the hopefuls. I’m somewhere in between. I don’t like crowds but I like writing about them. We’re all making up for lost time after 3 years of Covid. It’s a petri dish. I’ve got some important events coming up in April and May so better to get the virus NOW. We have to time our covid strategically! 

I’m glad I’m solo. I just want to be invisible and observe the human experience. Until I see someone I know. At which point I’m delighted and I make myself visible. 

This is Jesse Saint John. He wrote “Truth Hurts” with Lizzo! He smells good. And he’s funny and humble. He thinks I’m the bomb. Still. Go figure.  

Here’s Jhart. He’s worked with Justin Bieber, Camila Cabello, OneRepublic, Keith Urban … and me!

This is Heidi Rojas. I have no idea who’s photo bombing the hand sign above our heads. Or why. 

The music is intense. I can literally feel my heart thumping out my chest. This can’t be healthy. 

It’s been an hour. I’m socially sated. It was great to see everyone. I realize, I’ve truly missed my people. They Are My Tribe. But I’m ready to go. I grab a veggie wrap cuz I’m STARVING and devour it on the way home in my car and then I chase it with a bag of M&Ms I remember are in my glove compartment. Heaven. 

And then THIS comes on the radio! What did I do to deserve it? After all that booming bass. 70s was the best decade for pop songs. I’m grateful I was raised on it. Like the flower needs the rain!

I’m so deep into the song and the M&Ms that I miss my turn. Twice. I don’t even know why I’m Wazing it. I know where I’m going. There’s something comforting about Waze. Like I don’t have to use my brian. But is that a good thing?

I’m mad at myself for eating all that candy but honestly I could totally go for a slice right now. 

The Grammys will be televised on Sunday. I went to the actual show the 2 years I was nominated and a handful of others. But it’s always been as much fun to whip up a vat of chili, some cornbread and Caesar salad and host a watch-party for a small crowd. We cheer and mock. It was at one of these gatherings that Jon Lind proposed a category for best song written by more than 5 ppl. We thought that was so funny at the time. Little did we know that writing rooms would expand to 10 or 15 writers or more per song or that Jon would be taken from us too soon. I can’t host that gathering any more. It’s not the same.

Pulling into my driveway. Home sweet home. I can’t get into my pajamas fast enough. 

Good luck to all nominees. And Steve Lacy — I’m rooting for ya! 

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