When Yoga Isn't Worth It

On Tuesday, I did my yoga class at noon, but our teacher--bless her--was quite sick. The only available space was practically opposite her. The whole time I was practicing yoga I was fighting a vision of clouds of germs emanating from her powerful breath and heading straight for the foolish singer whose face was less than two feet away. I am just so damn susceptible--this past winter, I had to stop training for my second marathon because I got something like six colds in a row. I generally get them from my four-year-old, but in this case, our teacher was the first sick person I'd been in contact with for several months. Afterwards, I tried not to think about getting sick. My husband loves to tell me it's all in my head.

On Wednesday morning, I got a call to sing at a funeral at 3 pm that same day. "I don't have any shoes," I objected. I was wearing silver tennis shoes and wouldn't have time to go back home and change them. "That's OK," the music director said, "we'll find some for you." When I got there he handed me a pair of silver pumps. "You want me to wear these?" I said. "Just kidding, try these," he said, handing me some black shoes. Organist humor, I guess. I sang two songs, Ave Maria and Amazing Grace, for the service, which was for an elderly woman who had passed. On Amazing Grace, the director said, "Just do your usual 'thing' to it, singing the first verse a capella." So I embellished it. It didn't occur to me until just now that the reason I sang that song was because the deceased's name was Grace.

Wednesday evening, I spent an hour photocopying music and then drove to Richmond for another rehearsal at Michael's awesome studio. It was long, but good. It's so interesting how when you add a new person to a group, it can take a few tunes before you all find the groove. I've noticed that with musicians of all calibers. In this case, the percussionist hadn't been at the previous rehearsal so it was an adjustment but it all worked out.

Thursday, I skipped "sick yoga" and left in the afternoon for the gig in Benicia. What a long haul! It took an hour and a half to get there, but at least during the stop-and-go traffic I could do my makeup, endangering the lives of thousands of innocent commuters. Once we got there, though, it was nice. Well attended, great interaction with the audience, I got lots of names for my mailing list and sold a few more CDs, we made good tips, the food was excellent and the band was in sync. Oh, and Michael not only played great vibes but also set up a sound system that was far superior to anything I could have come up with, so I couldn't in good conscience not pay him extra for that.

I got home and as I sat and watched Fear Factor with Sebastian, I started to feel that tell-tale tickle in my throat. Sure enough, Friday morning I was sick. The drag is that I have to rehearse today at 3 pm for a short recital tomorrow that I'm singing as a guest in. And then I have the regular Grace Cathedral service tomorrow night. Then, so long as my voice holds out--and if my yoga teacher was any indication, this cold can kill your voice--I have the gig on Sunday the 14th at the Jazz School. I remember reading a long time ago about a famous singer who at some point in her career stopped shaking hands or touching people because she just decided that she couldn't afford to keep getting colds that would attack her means of making a living. At this moment, I wish I'd run the opposite direction rather than take that yoga class!