"Nobody leaves this place without singing the blues..."

Ever seen "Adventures in Babysitting"? That great movie from 1987 with Elizabeth Shue? Great cheese factor moment in that movie is when the kids are on the run from the Mob boss, and they stumble into a bar...happen to take a wrong turn onto the stage...and a burly "Bebe King" type steps in front of "Chris" and tells her, "can't nobody leave this place without singing the blues". She stutters and says...no, we're just passing through...I don't sing. He repeats himself "nobody leaves this place without singing the blues". And so begins her homage to her horrible night and her adventures in babysitting. If you haven't seen it - rent it. It'll take you back, my friends.

Now that I've gone to great lengths to explain the title...enjoy the following...

Yes, friends - my first (and hopefully last) attempt to sing the blues in a nightspot called "Buzzards". I was invited to come and wail, and so it goes - I did my best. A little Etta James with "At Last" and a little "Summertime" (Ira Gershwin). But turns out I'm more of a quiet, romantic singer. Not digging the loud, cranky blues - more into the soft, lonely blues. The smoky, sultry blues are more me, as it turns out. And until I sang, this was much more of a "Hot Time in the City" group. Although, that is my dear friend Shelby in the corner playing bass, who convinced me to grab a mic and let er' rip. It helped I had friends in the crowd cheering me on, as well as the charming AB whistling, cat calling, and woot wooting his wife along. This group has been playing together at gigs for quite some time, and I was honored they pulled me in to their fold, even for one night. It was quite a learning experience.

The next night though, AB and I were dining on a gift card at a high end spot and there was a lovely piano in the corner, some dim candlelight, and a quiet and romantic ambiance in the air. He whispered to me "see, this is where I could see you singing...all soft and beautiful...and wowing the guests." Me too. Or at least, much more so. But it ain't happening. Somehow, I think with two babies - one on each hip - I'm gonna have my hands too full for cabaret singing in a steakhouse. Evening lullabies and housecleaning induced Barbra Streisand belting will have to do.

Window to my world...and now you know...

So...nobody leaves this place without singing the blues!