What Is It About New York?

Okay, I’ve lived in New York for 19 months now, and there are some things about this state that I love, and some that drive me bonkers! For instance:

1. New Yorkers Are Afraid of the Rain. No kidding. If it starts raining, it’s as if someone launched a nuclear attack. Everyone takes cover, hunkers down and waits for the disaster to be over.

In California, we may not like the rain, but we aren’t afraid to go out in it! It doesn’t stop us, say, from going to a movie or a concert… or the store! But New Yorkers use rain as an excuse to cancel everything.

Maybe New Yorkers melt if they get wet.

2. Pedestrians DO NOT Have the Right of Way… No Matter What!
Even in crosswalks. In fact, crosswalks are useless here because drivers could care less if you’re in one, about to walk into one or trying to hightail it out of one. They will mow you down either way. And I’m not talking about city drivers but up here in the Hudson Valley.

In California, if a pedestrian is anywhere near a crosswalk, if they’re even thinking about a crosswalk, and you don’t stop, you get fined, big time!

3. New Yorkers Don’t Believe in Street Signs. In New York City, the streets are very well marked. But upstate, forget about it! That Google map won’t do a bit of good, because it may tell you to turn left on Wallafunka Street, but chances are very good that Wallafunka Street (and any other street you’re looking for) won’t have a street sign.

For someone new to the area (like yours truly), this is enough to make you want to turn the car west and head back to California.

4. New Yorkers Are Polite, Kind and Helpful. Since I’ve been here, I’ve only seen one person who came close being the sullen, obnoxious, rude or even hateful New Yorker stereotype. It was a woman in a drug store in New York City who started yelling at the girl behind the counter, insulting her, because… well, I’m not sure why.

Everyone else — from those who said “Excuse me” when they had to snuggle in close to me on the subway, to those on the streets of the city who always pointed me in the right direction, to the woman working at Starbucks who let us in 5 minutes after closing because we were desperate for coffee — has been courteous, helpful and very kind.

New Yorkers rock. Even if they are afraid of the rain.

My original goal in taking on this project was to explore more of the Hudson Valley. But in the end, the real gift of this project was an augmented awareness of how every day does bring new experiences, whether you focus on them or not. And if you intentionally invite new, wonderful experiences into your day, there’s a very good chance they’ll show up.

On Day 29, my new experience was going to the weekly Friday Nite Jam Session at Stephen Crawford’s place in Olivebridge. My bon vivant Mark and I have been meaning to go for weeks and weeks, and we haven’t been able to make it for one reason or another. But not this Friday! We google-mapped the address and headed out to Olivebridge.

Stephen has a great stage set up in his spacious backyard. When we arrived, there was an eclectic mix of musicians already jamming. Mark set up his amp and guitar, grabbed a homemade brew (Stephen and Dona make their own beer) and joined the jam. In a matter of minutes, I was headed back to the car because I was getting devoured by mosquitos. They LOVE me, those obnoxious intruders of lovely summer nights. And when I get bit by one, the bite always swells up to the size of crimson baseball, so I had to take cover.

But I could still hear the music from the car, and it was so wonderful to hear Mark play, something I haven’t had the pleasure of for serveral months now.

We got totally lost on the way home (yet another new experience) mostly due to the fact that we were way out in the boonies and the roads in New York are so poorly marked. What’s with that? Is it really so hard to put up a street sign every once in a while so you know what road you’re on? Anyway, we did eventually make it home.

Saturday was Day 30, and it, too, was full of new experiences. Remember Gabe from Monkey Joe’s? He was part of my new experience on Day 16? Well, on Saturday morning, he and his longtime musical partner were playing at Monkey Joe’s in honor of the roasting company’s 10 year anniversary. They call their duo “The Morning Howlers.” After hearing some of Gabe’s original tunes on Day 16, I didn’t want to miss his performance. Here’s a clip of one of his originals:

Later that same day, my friends Peter Wetzler and Julie Hedrick were having a little open house featuring Julie’s new series of paintings, so Mark and I wandered over around 6:00 pm or so. Their home, which used to be the chapel and rectory of one of Kingston’s many churches (Kingston is a city of churches; I swear they must have more churches per capita than any other city in the world), was a’buzz with people, sipping wine, eating blue cheese and looking at Julie’s vibrant, stunning new paintings featuring the color red.

Peter, Julie’s husband, is a talented composer who mostly writes film scores now. A bit of a crazy kook, Peter  dressed up in a black kilt and red tie for the occassion. Here’s a photo of Peter with Mark Marshall, another talented composer. Doesn’t Peter have lovely legs? Why wouldn’t he show them off?

We’ve been to other gatherings and Peter and Julie’s, and every time, we meet some wonderful people. This evening was no exception. New people, new paintings, new experiences!

On Day 31, yesterday, I rested. A lot. Lazy morning, big bacon-and-eggs breakfast, the Sunday New York Times, a little nap. What was new? Well, around 1:00 or 2:00 pm, Mark and I opened a bottle of Schramsburg Sparkling Wine, and chilled out for the rest of the afternoon, watching an old movie, eating popcorn. Afternoon champagne was a definite first for us, and the perfect end to this 31-day project.

Simple, quiet days can still bring new experiences, and sometimes, they’re the best. Like afternoon movies with champagne. Or watching the squirrels eat the cashews we threw on the deck. Just noticing something you haven’t noticed before or seeing it from a totally new perspective.

It’s been a great 31-day project. So great, I’m starting a NEW one! Stay tuned.

Singing at Savona's

for me. The Boys and I performed at Savona’s Trattoria in Kingston, our regular monthly gig, and it was a great night for us. Lots of people showed up (which wasn’t the case last month) and the energy was high (as was the noise level) and the music flowed like Malbec wine.

What was the new experience of the evening? Well, two things. One was getting to meet Sari, another transplanted Californian who moved to Kingston just 90 days ago to be with her true love. Geez, when are we women going to learn to stop moving cross country for love? This is ridiculous!

I’d talked with Sari briefly by phone the evening before when my bon vivant Mark called me from the Kingston Digital Corridor Happier Hour at Keegan Ales and said, “You need to meet this woman! She just moved from Northern California and just like you, she misses all her friends!” Mark had just met Sari at Keegan’s, and after hearing a bit of her story and seeing the way she frowned and pouted out her lower lip when he mentioned the fact I loved New York but really missed my friends back in California, he called me on his cell and handed the phone to Sari. We talked a bit, in that awkward, I-don’t-really-know-you way for a few minutes, about California, about Whole Foods, about adjusting to a strange new place, and then I invited her to come to the gig the following night.

And she came! With her lover man, Brad. And it was such a joy to meet her in person! She’s as sunny as… California on a summer day. Beautiful, expressive, sensitive and full of life. We hit it off immediately, and now we have plans to become good friends!

My other new experience was eating Salmon Limoncello at Savona’s. I’d never tried it before, though it’s been on the menu forever. OH MY GOD! It was so delicious. Perfectly cooked, it melted in my mouth. And I ate the whole thing! Plus the pile of broccoli rabe sauteed in garlic. Very yummy, and the perfect end to a great evening.

On Day 27, the day before yesterday, I was reading a post by Rebecca Martin on the Kingston Citizens blog about the Mt. Zion African Burial Ground in Kingston. I quickly looked on a Google map to see where it was, thinking that if it were close enough, I could walk there. New adventure! But it was too far to go. But as I looked at the map, I noticed that Wiltwyck Cemetery was closer, and I’d never been there before. Ah, ha!

I guess I’ve got a thing for cemeteries. I find them fascinating and often beautiful. The way people honor their dead loved ones is so revealing, so personal yet so public. And they hint at the history of the city: the names, the families, the people who came here centuries ago. I find myself wondering, as I read certain headstones, who were these people? So, on Wednesday, before the day got too hot, I walked to Wiltwyck Cemetery.

This is one big, beautiful cemetery! I thought Montrepose Cemetery in Kingston was huge, but Wiltwyck could be even larger. It’s certainly more dense with mounuments and statues and headstones, and harder to navigate. I felt lost in it, and I was almost unable to find my way out once I got deep inside.

Here’s an odd thing. As I was writing this post, I got curious as to the history of Wiltwyck Cemetery, so I googled it. I found next to nothing on its history, but what I did discover is that the name of the cemetery seems to have two spellings: Wiltnyck OR Wiltwyck. Whaa??? How could that be?

On Day 26, I didn’t have a new experience. I didn’t. It was just a day of working here in my office, getting ready for the gig at Savona’s, doing some cooking. A lovely quiet day.

Only three more days of this 31 Days of Exeriencing New Things! BUT… I have a new 31 Day idea for August. I’m pretty excited about it. I’ll tell you soon!

I had so much fun making this video (once I wrestled iMovie to the ground and made it scream “Uncle!”) about my recent excursion to New York City to be at the MAC Awards (Manhattan Association of Cabaret and Clubs). My friends Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco were both nominated for awards, so I HAD to be there. Mario Cantone and Leslie Uggams and The Bobs also make an appearance in this video.

So… watch it! I made it just for you!

New gigs on the horizon, including a monthly gig at Savona’s Trattoria in Kingston, AND… I’ll be at the Rrazz Room in San Francisco on Monday, June 14! Yep, I’m flying on back to California to share the stage with Linda Kosut in “When the Natives Get Restless” – our name for this jazz cabaret about …. well, you’ll have to come and find out!

The first winter snow of the season.

So, I HAD to go outside and take a little video… just for you!

Something happened last night. Something that shifted me into a new place and allowed me to relocate a part of myself I’ve been missing since I moved to New York.

I got to sing in public.

Jazz guitarist Dennis Winge, whom I’ve just started to work with a little, invited me to sit in at his regular Friday night gig at Isabella’s in Ossining. So, my friend Mark and I drove down last night, in spite of the fact I had had an emotionally exhausting day and felt ambivalent about everything, including my ability to sing in any kind of remotely decent manner.

But I knew I had to go, no matter how I felt. I had to stand up and sing in public in this strange new land I live in: the Hudson Valley of New York. I had to claim myself as a singer here, to start somewhere, in this small, under-the-radar way. My fear was that I’d buckle in on myself, that the heavy emotions of the day and the intense vulnerability left in its wake would consume me, drag me under, and I’d sing badly, then fall apart.

But when we got to Isabella’s, a small, brightly lit Italian restaurant (with really good pasta, by the way), I knew I’d be okay. Dennis was sitting and playing at the far end of the restaurant. Mark and I joined Dennis’s wonderful wife, Caroline, and their son, Max, who were sitting at a table up front. There was hardly anyone in the restaurant; the place was so quiet. Except for Max, who would break out into loud, joy-filled screams every so often.

I won’t bore you with the whole story. I’ll just say that I got to sit in twice, singing a total of three songs, and it felt great. I sang well, felt anchored in each song, and got to connect with sweet people sitting at the table on the right. And this simple act of of standing up in front of any kind of audience, large or small, attentive or distracted, reconnected me to a part of myself I’d been missing, the part that hasn’t had a chance to show up since I got to New York. The part of me that loves making music and sharing it with an audience.

Sure, I had that guest spot in Jason Britton’s show in New York City back in July, which was an honor. But to be honest, I didn’t sing so well then. I was disappointed in my performance. But last night, I did okay. And now to have found this amazing guitarist to work with, after searching in vain for a pianist, well, I feel like more of me has found its way to the Hudson Valley, that I pushed through the membrane of geographical resistance, and now, now, it all starts.

This Diva is moving across this big, wide, huge country, from one coast to the other, to New York.

Oh, come on! You knew it was coming. I’ve been talking about my Big City fever. And how little, lovely, sleepy Santa Rosa and my home town of Sebastopol has been feeling… well, very, very small. Tight. Teeny.

So, here’s the deal:

After months of flying back and forth from the Oakland airport to JFK, after falling in love with the city that is New York, after feeling myself needing and craving Something I Can’t Name or Yet Know, one thing became clear: “gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get home till the…” You get the idea.

Needless to say, this decision has come with HUGE consequences, the most obvious being… leaving my husband of 26 years. A community of friends, musicians and familiarity that has sustained me for over 27 years. But because my husband is an angel, an enlightened boddhisatva who knows life is short and must be lived to the fullest, we are working out this strange, unexpected twist of life beautifully. Kindly. Respectfully.

But make no mistake. There have been days and long nights of intense pain over this choice as well. I wake up at 2:00 am (that is, if I fall asleep in the first place) in a state of panic and disbelief. “No way! I’m not going anywhere,” I think to myself. But as the sun rises and I come into the morning, I know I AM going. That I have to.

Just today my husband and I were talking about this Calling, this Thing that tells us what we have to do even if we don’t fully understand why. No, we didn’t come up with any answers or insight. Mostly amazement, a good dose of grief and, for me, the incredible excitement of NOT knowing and doing it any way.

So, I’ve spent these past 6 days packing in earnest, getting quotes from moving companies, changing my mind about where to live and with whom once I get there, and riding the waves of grief and joy, doubt and certainty, love and fear, desire and exhaustion, complaining and appreciating. I’ve said goodbye to my music community, let go of my monthly gig at Upper Fourth (ouch! that hurt!) and told most of my friends, who support me with a mixture of concern and boundless love.

I haven’t told my mother yet. And since she doesn’t read this blog I think I’ll write her a long letter explaining as best I can why I’m doing what I’m doing. She won’t get it, but that’s got to be okay.

So, New York, brace yourself. I should be there by April 15 if not sooner. And Sonoma County, I’ll love you forever. And I’ll visit often. But for now, I got to go.

I was standing there, waiting for the light to turn so I could cross the street. And the thought came. “This place is too small for me now. I can’t stay here.”

Santa Rosa, CA, is a small city as cities go. I live in an even smaller town just outside of Santa Rosa and I’ve always

4th Street in Santa Rosa, CA

loved both my little town and Santa Rosa. They are slow and sweet and safe. Quaint and quiet. The politics tend to be liberal, and the people are smart, kind and just a little crazy. Every time I would travel to big cities, like New York, L.A. or even San Francisco, I always loved coming back to Santa Rosa where the pace is gentle, and there’s plenty of parking, and people don’t drive like meth addicts. And then there’s those gorgeous lavender mountains that cradle the east and the Pacific ocean cradling the west.

And hey, Santa Rosa has a Peet’s Coffee!

But as I stood on that corner yesterday, I knew I needed more. And that knowing sickened me. What the hell am I supposed to do with THIS?

My mind rushed in to the rescue, handing me this next thought: “Oh, come on! This is just New York City backlash. You’ll get over this! You’ll feel differently next week!” But I don’t know if I want to feel differently. Because I know this revelation is merely an aftershock of a larger earthquake that’s shaking the foundation of my life. This is not only about where I live. It’s about how I want to live. It’s about who I am becoming.

Call it a mid-life crisis. Call it a breakthrough. Call it whatever you want. All I know is that what has always felt safe and familiar, cozy and comfortable, now feels like a vice grip on my throat.

And okay, being in New York didn’t help, I’ll admit. I loved being out in the City, hearing live music every night, meeting crazy new people, having intense conversations with other musicians, not knowing what was going to happen next. We weren’t locked in at night watching TV. We were out in the energy and buzz of life. And it made me feel alive, invigorated and inspired.

Since I’ve been back, with the exception of one great night at Lorraine Feather’s show, I’ve been trying to be okay with my old routine. Work, sing, eat, watch TV, go to bed… get up and do it all over again. I mean, we all have our routines, right? And I’m not knocking a system that works.

But I can’t walk out my door (or even drive 30-60 minutes) and find a jazz club like Smoke, or any place where music is being created in the moment. Or gather with people who love music, who are intensely passionate about it… or passionate about SOMETHING. And I’m craving all of that.

I’ve tried appeasing my desire for MORE by thinking, “Hey, you’re just 75 minutes away from San Francisco. You love that City! And you love coming home from that City.”

But you know what? Even San Francisco feels too small. Rather, too familiar. And now, right now, I’m hungry for the Unfamiliar. The Unknown. For room to grow into myself. For people who know this same hunger and are feeding it by living a life that thrills them. For music and the people who make it, love it, and crave it as I do.

So. I have no idea where this will lead me. Seattle? Portland? Both are cities with lots of life, jazz and young, passionate people. Or maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and fall back in love with Santa Rosa and my own quiet, sleepy town. But I don’t think so. I’ve got Big City Disease. And it may prove fatal.

I’ve been back home for over a week now. What a wildly wicked and wonderful trip! It changed my life and then changed it back again. It lifted me up, twirled me around and then threw me to the curb… and I’m just now finding my center again.

And while I can’t tell you everything about my trip, mostly because so much of it was intensely personal, I can share with you the musical highlights and insights I experienced.

I fell in love with a great little jazz and supper club on the edge of Harlem called Smoke. I went there with my

Judy Barnett @ Smoke

talented friend Shaynee Rainbolt, who lives in New York and was kind enough to let me stay with her during my trip, to hear Judy Barnett and her great jazz band. They were tight!

And who should we meet there but songwriter/entertainer/funny man Mr. Ray Jessel. Now, I’ve heard so much about Ray but had never had the pleasure of meeting him. He’s so much fun and extraordinarily charming. He, Shaynee and I all had dinner together while listening to Judy and her band swing it hard.

Shaynee & Ray

Oh, how I wish there was a jazz club like this in San Francisco!

One of the other highlights for me was getting to go to Birdland, one of the most famous and historic jazz clubs in New York. Some if not all of the greatest jazz legends in the world played there when it was located on 52nd & Broadway. Artists like Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bud Powell, Stan Getz, Lester Young, Erroll Garner, and many, many others. Today, it’s located in midtown Manhatten and continues to be the home of “some of the best jazz on the planet.”

On Monday night, I was there for Cast Party, which is like an open mic for some of the greatest cabaret and musical theater stars in the world. See, Mondays are Broadway’s dark night, meaning there aren’t any performances. So, a lot of Broadway stars who just can’t stand taking a night off, show up at Cast Party to sing and promote there show, etc.

As we walked into Birdland, the legendary Marilyn Maye was singing! Oh my god, this woman is amazing. At 80 years old, she sings with more passion and fire (and greater skill) than most singers in their prime. Ah, it did my heart good to hear her. I only wish I had been able to stay in New York longer to see her show.

I was also blown away by Ted Firth, the jazz pianist who accompanies all these singers during Cast Party. He plays so beautifully, with a restrained elegance and style, that I only wish he had taken more solos.

Then, guitarist Terrence Brewer took the stage to join Ted and the bass player (who’s name I can’t remember – shame on me!) in order to accompany yet another singer. I must confess, I don’t remember the singer or the song because I was so captivated by Terrence’s playing.

Lucky for me, I got to meet Terrence the following night! I was at the Metropolitan Room (one of the greatest

Terrence Brewer & Me

cabaret rooms in New York; I love hearing music there) to see my friend Terese Genecco’s show at 7:00 and then Russ Lorenson’s show at 9:45 pm. As I took my seat for Terese’s show, there was Terrence, sitting at the table right next to mine. I introduced myself and told him how much I enjoyed his playing the night before, and well, the conversation just took off from there.

To my delight, I discovered that he’s from Northern California! He was in New York to play multiple gigs, including Russ’s show that night. Well, well, well. Just my good luck. I’ve been looking for a jazz guitarist to collaborate with and it seems I had to go to New York to find one in my own back yard! Man, I love New York!

Wait a moment. Let me mention that before I went to Birdland on Monday, I was at the Metropolitan Room (can’t get enough of that place!) to hear my two dearest friends, Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco, sing for the “Friends With Benefits” performance, a benefit for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS.

Here is the video of that night.

I SO wish I had a video of Terese Genecco’s show on Tuesday night at the Metropolitan Room. Frankly, this woman makes me sick! Just when you think there is no stinking way she can get any better, she takes the stage with her little big band and blows your mind with her talent, her voice, her showmanship and mastery of this thing called entertainment.

Now, I’ve seen Terese’s show so many times I’ve lost count. And I lap it up every time. But this night, she did a version of “Anywhere I Hang My Hat Is Home” that killed! It rocked! It was jaw-dropping amazing! Damn her!

I snuck out to make a phone call before Russ Lorenson’s new show, Standard Time, which featured songs written after 1960 that Russ believes need to be included in what we call the Great American Songbook.

What I loved about Russ’s show, other than his incredibly beguiling voice, was that I hardly knew any of the songs in this show! Just a handful. It was such a joy to be introduced to songs written by by songwriters who are still alive and writing great stuff. Including my buddy, Kelly Park, who was not only the musical director for this show but one of the songwriters Russ featured in this show. Hey, Kelly! Who knew?

As Joe Regan, Jr., from Cabaret Scenes wrote: “Russ Lorenson, who possesses one of the great male voices in cabaret, begins his new show, ‘Standard Time’ with a question: ‘Who says the Great American Songbook stopped in 1959?’ The selections are a treasure trove of obscure beauties and make Lorenson’s show a must-see…”

On Thursday, Oct. 30, I flew home. It felt like the longest flight ever. So much of me wanted to stay in New York. I can’t wait to go back!

Photo by Mark Marshall

This is a Big Deal for me because I’m not a big fan of travel. Especially travel that involves airplanes. Only desire and crazy love could make me book such a trip. A love larger than my dread of being packed in tin and propelled through the air for 5 to 6 hours.

But I’m beginning to realize my real reasons for this trip are still unknown to me. This has become my Magical Mystery trip, and I am so damned excited! I wish I was leaving today!

You can bet I’ll be visiting my my talented friend, Shaynee Rainbolt. Then, I’m taking a bus, renting a car and checking out territories north where I’m hoping to take in some gorgeous, deep Fall foliage. (Oh, yes, PLEASE!) Plus, a trip to the new Woodstock Museum at Bethel Woods, which is supposed to be as mind-blowingly fabulous and experiential as the original event.

Then, as of today, it looks like I’ll be heading back to New York City during the week of the Cabaret Convention because I’ve been offered the chance to apartment-sit a truly fab apartment for a friend of a friend. I can’t believe my good luck! This means I’ll get to see my friend Terese Genecco’s show as well as Russ Lorenson’s show at the Metropolitan Room on Tuesday, Oct. 28. And go crazy with a whole slew of singer friends who are coming to town for the Convention. Like the adorable Shawn Ryan.

Then, who knows? Well, YOU will, because I’m taking you with me. I’m bringing my laptop, camera, and Flip video camera so I can let you in on the Mystery. Well, maybe not the WHOLE mystery. Just the stuff you might find mildly interesting.

I’m leaving on Oct. 21 and will return home sometime before the election. See you on the road!