Sunday, March 4, 2012

March 3, 2012
Brooklyn, NY

It's Saturday night and only just past the witching hour... And I'm already back in my hotel room. I'm such a good girl. It was a long and successful day in New York City! Sunny, mild, and thoroughly replete with beautiful people, raw oysters, and polka-dots.

I left the Great White North on Thursday, one day later than I had planned. Waited out the big Leapday storm front that blew through, then hit the road on Ladyship's first official roadtrip! I've said it before, but I LOVE MY NEW CAR. And it's a good thing, cause mama's goin' for a loooong drive.
Next stop, the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Then onto North Carolina, Tennessee, and all the way to Texas! Just in time for SXSW.

Tomorrow night I'm playing a sweet little show in the city at Caffe Vivaldi... one of my favourite spots. If you're anywhere near Manhattan, New York, please come by and say bonjour!  Other than that, I'm pretty much on vacation. I'll be spending my time reposing on sunny park benches, hiding in dark alleys, and enjoying a multitude of cultural attractions. Photographs sure to follow... I imagine.

And speaking of cultural attractions, last night I took myself on a date to a Pat Benatar concert! Seriously. I've always loved her. Since the first time I saw the We Belong video on MuchMusic, back in the day. In the light of it's crisp-white ripped-sheet dreaminess (with the occasional chartreuse punch) I became a fan forever. She still sounds great.

The highlight of the concert for me, however, was a true moment of  Sweetlandish magic. Pat's longtime guitar player and husband Neil Giraldo was about to throw a guitar pick into the audience. At that moment I decided that it had to be my new lucky guitar pick. So I looked up and smiled from the middle of the crowd. Somehow Neil spotted me and mouthed "Do you want it?" I nodded. He said, "Put your hands up." So I did. He threw the pick and it flew over rows and rows of writhing arms. And it hit me in the face. Any guess as to what song they were playing? Seriously.

And that's not even the punchline of the story, as after the pick hit me in the face it disappeared into the void, and I couldn't find it anywhere. I made a joke to the woman standing beside me that I would "probably find it later."  But I was confused. How could the lucky guitar pick God giveth, and then taketh away so quickly?  Well, I was right. Getting into the bath last night I found it. Neil Giraldo did in fact throw a guitar pick across a crowd of people and right down my cleavage. Seriously.

The End.

xo
K


I ♥ NY.