MtH #17 You Can Tuna Piano

Hello from Nashville

I’m scurrying around frantically getting ready to head over to the famous Ryman Auditorium for our show here in Nashville. But I thought I’d drop a little note to my faithful readers who may be thinking I’ve lost interest in the blog. Not in the slightest. My lame excuse is that I’ve been busy gearing up for the new tour……………so let’s just go with that.

I’m back and it was a great show. For those who don’t know, the Ryman Auditorium was the home of the original Grand Ole Opry. I have some pictures that I’ll post later.

The Next Day

Now I’m just back from our show in Durham South Carolina. It was fine but I felt dragged out all day. I got up at three last night doing the hokey-pokey. I’ve got one of those acronym disorders… RLS…. Restless Legs Syndrome. When it gets extreme like it does with me, I’m Zippy the chimp with a kerosene suppository or Fred Astaire wearing nothing but flamable underwear in a room full of torch jugglers.

The only thing that really works to relieve it is a drug with a full page of web site side effects. May or may not cause stupidity, clumsy oafishness, foot in mouth disease………….       

“Who’d know?” I hear my sister asking. I did mention we’re Irish, didn’t I?

So after flopping around like a freshly caught tuna on a fishing boat, I get looking for my bag of meds. 

“Damn it”……not in my back pack.

“Oh man”…….not in my suitcase. One more possibility.   

“SHIT !!!!!!”…….not in the computer bag………

Gone! Likely stolen from the dressing room while we were on stage. Only one thing to do. Drink everything in the mini bar and wait it out. I spent the rest of the night doing the St. Vitus waltz with a pink kangaroo named Matilda.

Today in Durham I went to the Quickie Walk-In Clinic about four miles from the venue. “Quickie” my arse. Even though I registered online before I left, I still waited forty minutes to get in. But it was worth it. The doctor was a very cute early thirtyish lady in great shape who introduced herself as Jennifer. Not Doctor. Just  Jennifer. She was a perfect storm of blonde hair, long legs, blue eyes, and a dazzling smile brighter than westbound on Interstate 90 an hour before dusk. I was smitten.

She took my blood pressure and remarked “it’s very high”. 

“Not surprised” I blathered.

To be continued