Ahh hahaha I seriously didn’t do that pun on purpose- I was trying to think of another “M” word after “Macon” and “Music” that would accurately summarize my weekend- which did carry over through this Monday. Hey- that’s another “M” word! (I really did just get excited as I thought out the words in my head.)
Friday. That was the day of my very first official speaking engagement for the Ad Federation District 7 Convention. Later that night I would join the group on the first of my musical adventures that weekend for my second Rock Candy Tours adventure. Even though I had been on it before, I enjoyed hearing it again and even more I enjoyed hearing the reactions of people not from here. During the tour in true Macon Music style we stumbled upon Floco Torres and his pop-up rap event at the newly opened Fresh Produce record store on MLK. I went back by there after the tour, and after another music stop at Roasted, and saw a really cool thing: free style rappers who I was not already familiar with. And Floco as well of course.
However Saturday was the big event I was all geared up for: you see, I had run in to Steve Moretti the week before at Taste and See and as he thanked me for the write up in The Cluster on the Macon Pops Orchestra he then says to me “bring your dancing shoes!” Which REALLY, translated for me is, bring your dancing outfit. Because dancing shoes means an appropriate yet killer cocktail dress which allows me to really bust a move without- well- busting *out* of anything… if you catch my drift.
I meant to write a whole post about it- you know the whole I have 20 black cocktail dresses and yet SOMEHOW none of them work because I’ve worn one recently or the other won’t let me dance or the other just isn’t right so on and so on. But I got too busy. Whoops.
So the big night arrived and luckily Nadia Osman was kind enough to switch Spirits in October shifts with me or I would not have made it to what is going to be one of the big events here in town. Oh my gosh y’all I cannot believe what we have here! These musicians, coming together just that day to rehearse together, and putting on a show to steal the thunder away from any big city- words escape me. I’m a writer. That’s not supposed to happen. But I’m also a writer who conveys emotion and my emotion is that of speechless breathless wonderment.
And then there was the conga line- and the dancing. And seeing the joy in my fellow citizens. I have the videos I shot here on my YouTube Channel– again I’m not a videographer- just bear that in mind. (And I’m still uploading them- they may not all be up yet.)
Then there was tonight- Monday- and due to some unforeseen circumstances I ended back up in Macon earlier than planned from a trip to Savannah. I was not supposed to leave until after 5:30, and by the way driving back again tomorrow at 6 am, for a conference but I ended up leaving around three. As such, I decided to make the most of my time and take my kids to the Music Ambassadors: Macon event with Speech and Heaven Beatbox tonight. Now- they were a bit of a handful at first but once the music started that it. They were hooked. It was really cool watching my 4 and 3 year old get in to this beat box artist and to watch them loving songs I knew as a child. And to see people from every background, every race, just like Saturday night, coming together in my friends Carrie and Will’s home (which is *stunning* by the way) for a concert in the Corridor. And to watch them come together in fellowship over good food (amazing soups and chili and more by The Moonhanger Group), amazing artwork (Heatherly Wakefield you never cease to amaze me- someday I will own an original of yours) and stunning music. (And then to walk back to my car with my kids, not far away, and feel perfectly safe in a part of town that those less educated might not feel safe in.)
Fellowship is exactly what I partook of- all weekend, from all different groups of people, many times they came together as one under the same sun. Hipsters, country club types, black, white, old, young, those involved in the community and those… maybe not as much, in the usual sense at least. We all were united under ART.
As I lay here, exhausted from driving back and forth to Savannah and knowing I have to do it again in oh…. (God do I want to know?) 6 hours… my son is next to me watching me type. He cuddles next to me, his sister asleep on the other side, and I whisper “B- did you have fun tonight?” “Yes, Mommy,” and he smiles, cuddling more next to me. I kiss him and he smiles more. “Did you like the music?” “Yes. Mommy,” and he kisses me back.
After all, isn’t this what it’s really all about? Instilling a love of music in our kids, so that they can do the same, and the music will go on and on. Not just the music- but the arts. Without the arts we are truly dead inside, and it’s so much easier, so much more pleasant to live.
Oh- and… I Really Love Macon.
All all of y’all…