the ONE thing I failed to do in Portland...

was music. playing, seeing, listening (well, does the radio count?)

Portland, Maine is an amazing little city. I counted 8 restaurants on one block more than once. And every one of those gastronomic temples were full or close to full on a windy, freezing, windy, cold, windy (did I say windy?) Saturday night.

I had amazing oysters at J's Oysters (thank you, Tony Bourdain for pointing us in that direction) and some fantastic Portland Beer, pan seared gnocchi that ruled and probably too much Cabernet which led to the lack of music (Robert Randolph and the Family Band were playing around the corner from our hotel but between the wine and the exhaustion I just passed out)...

I have always thought of myself as many things. The ONE thing that I'm almost...embarrassed? nervous? to tell people I am is a musician. I play music. I write music. I sing music. By all intents and purposes I should be firm and resolute in my "I'm a musician"-ness. For whatever reason - I don't pay my bills with it, I am still trudging through "paying my dues" at the tender age of almost 35, the songs are sometimes too personal - I shy away from telling people what I do. At a recent doctor's appointment, when he asked "what do you do for hobbies" I said "whatever my kids like to do" and it dawned on me 20 minutes after leaving the office that I should have said "play guitar" "music" or whatever.

I'm going to try to...no. I'm GOING TO say it more often. Maybe I can convince myself a little better.

So if you see me falter or hesitate, tell me it's ok, ok? :-)