December 19, 2007 Clean Towels It's really countdown now, the 19th I think and I've just checked into the hotel. Washing my hands and "little things" and there it is, the sign dangling from the towel bar with the image of the one last drop of water on the planet and asking me to help conserve it by thinking hard should the towel be reused and hung back up, or should I be reckless to all mankind and throw it on the floor? I've just left a place where they were watering a corporate office lawn in the rain~I don't want to reuse the towel~first of all, I share a room with him and though he's clean, maybe that was his and I want a new one. Secondly, I am not sure about the towel to begin with. Who put them there, what were they touching before my towels and did they have a cold? ACHOO! "God bless you," I say and pick up a new towel. It is one of the perks of staying in a hotel and it is Christmas and I don't want to be away from home. I wrap myself in clean towels~sheets can stay on the beds for days, after all I've had a bath before bed and I'm not thinking about the who touched them part. I'm scrubbed, dried with a clean towel..."What do you want for Christmas, Melanie?" "Clean towels." And I coast along awakeness into a solid doze. A closer than inside my ear kind of sound rouses me. And the three articles of clothing, all black, two long, one short, are hanging from an impromptu clothes hanger made out of a ceiling lamp, looking very much to my drowsy eyes like three members of the Greek chorus on a break exhausted from Greek chorus work. I've hung them on hangers, yes, I am in a hotel that has hangers that remove from the closet pole, like the ones from home~another perk. So many road places have the kind that is a little ball contraption that fits into a metal ring, permanently attached. So you can remove the hanger but have lost the ability to hang it anywhere but back onto the hotel closet pole, preventing, I suppose, the thieving of hangers. Hangers!? I improvise so much in hotels and I love having removable hangers and I know that I might have upset some of you by poking fun at the environmental consciousness awareness last drop of water picture but take it in the spirit intended and someone tell them to stop watering the golf course in the rain. Singing for me is mostly natural. Christmas songs, that come but once a year take some time to warm up to. I know the first line or two, then realize I don't know the song. Why not, you sang it last year? "Exactly." I'm going to do a Christmas show with friends and family. This brings to mind the image of twenty people on stage dressed in Victorian or fifties wear, like hats and muffs, bustling to and fro. A tree on stage, presents, some comedic schtick, some rehearsed patter. I don't have friends. I was thinking as I saw a magazine cover, "Stroll The Historic Sidewalks of the Capital Region," with a photo of these women dressed right, hats, long dresses....THEY could be my friends! I wonder what they are all doing tomorrow night after the holiday stroll? Maybe they could stroll onto my stage and be the friends. I wonder if they like to bustle. Family~family is harder. I have three children. Two will be performing with me, Leilah and Beau Jarred. Jeordie is, um~coming home Christmas Eve. She could not be there but even so, three singers, two guitars, I worry. MELANIE, FRIENDS AND FAMILY, we're small but mighty. It's just the picture in my head as I imagine myself in the audience waiting for Christmas with MELANIE, FRIENDS AND FAMILY, munchkins, trolls, children, dogs, cats, monkeys, unicorns, and the fringe element and then WE appear, Beau, me and Leilah. No tree, no fireplace, no Grandpa, no Grandma, no kids, no monkeys. Will I be okay? I'm thirsty. I only have one bottle of water, uh oh, one last drop. I sing O Come All Ye Faithful in my head, tidings of comfort and joy and unto certain shepherds. Certain shepherds are referred to in several traditional Christmas carols. I can't help wonder if there was an elitist shepherd group or a secret society of shepherds who were posted to receive signals from intergalactic sources to then interpret and signal other elitist shepherds and so on. A network of shepherds, why certain ones, I wonder. Well, I want to thank you all for allowing these ramblings over the years~there's really no one else like you and at Christmas time, I wish to give everyone a gift. I've been looking in my travels for the perfect thing. Chocolate is always right, but some can't and most shouldn't. Then I thought fire opals. Feels to me what we all need right now but then again I could be wrong. Maybe amethyst, or tourmaline, garnets or aquamarines, sapphires, just beautiful nine millimeter or so stones. I would pick out each one, not in a setting, not jewelry store treated stones but in their more natural state, a perfect little jewel for everyone. Right about here, the accountant goes mad. Even I was thinking, I might be low on funds. It seems what I can give you is songs~they are still coming and ramblings from the Roadburn Cafe. Someday I'd like to open a little place called the "Roadburn Cafe." We can go and for coffee or depending what part of a cleanse I'm on, herb tea. Right now, it would be coffee or hot chocolate which reminds me of the POLAR EXPRESS~"because the bell still rings for me"~ My dear ones, I love you all desperately. Happy Christmahanavaloween, Merry Christmas, Peace, Love, Plenty of clear water and clean towels in the New Year. Love ~ Melanie