Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Danger Lurks at the Microphone

I sang a few tunes with my pals Kevin, Jerry and Donny Saturday night at the Grillhouse.  I love singing with them because they let me do songs by my favorite Blues singer/song writer, EG Kight.
The other thing they let me do is shake their tambourine. That sounds dirty, doesn't it? hehe
 I love the tambourine. 
I have a dream of being the chick behind those big conga drums in a Latin band but I don't believe that's ever going to happen.  Ever since "arthur - eye - tis" took up residence in my body, just knocking on somebody's front door hurts so . . . no congas for me.  But the tambourine is still a possibility.
At least it was until Saturday night.  I'm so happy singing into a mic up on a stage in front of an audience that I totally forgot how easily I bruise.  The first time I smacked my upper right thigh with that thing it smarted a bit but, you know, "the show must go on" so I tried to vary the areas of contact. 
I moved around to my butt, which hurt a bit, but I'm tough so I kept at it.  I also used the base of my left hand as a target. 
We sang four songs together and then I went back to my table where my adoring fans were waiting for me.  I made that last part up.
Sometime on Monday I made a gesture (I use my hands a lot while talking; remember I'm married to an Italian.  It's contagious.) which resulted in my right hand landing heavily upon my right upper thigh. 
"Ouch.  That feels a little tender.  Let's have a look."
Yowza!  A mongo-huge black and blue spot the size of Dallas was staring at me.  Simultaneously, my left thumb began to throb.  I took a look at that and saw more bruising.
Does this mean an end to my tambourine shaking days? 
Would you like to see the bruised thigh?  Yes, I took a picture of it.  No, you won't be seeing it here.  I really was intending to post it - after all, I already showed you a pimple on my face so . . .  And then I looked at the picture and saw a 63 year old THIGH.  Even tanned it is not a pretty sight so you'll have to use your imagination.
I don't get the opportunity to sing with The Kevin McDaniel Band very often so maybe the bruised thigh will be a dim memory by the time I get up on the stage again.  I hope so because I do so love shakin' that thing.


  1. Hey, I get not showing the bruised thigh for the world to see. I had taken a picture of my "damn devil bug" bit from the Dominican Republic--which was on my upper thigh--and decided not use it on my blog despite all the sympathies I would've gotten. Maybe you could switch instruments to those maracas thingys. Here, go shopping: