Catching the Train
It is vacation time. The kids are on school break and I am enjoying the simple pleasures for the first time in a long time – sporadically anyhow. No planes to catch, no interviews to schedule, no books to send. It has been board games, making tissue paper flowers, challenging kids in scrabble and humiliating myself on Wii games in between interviews, meetings and final papers.
One of Harrison’s and Olivia’s biggest treats is reading past midnight. This has seriously cut into my opportunity for late night television, something I indulge in just a few times a year. So, when the kids left for Tahoe with Michael, I surrounded myself with DVD’s and munchies and ended the night with an episode of CSI: New York .
There are a few seductions to this show, and they all reflect a sampling of my fantasies: of being a detective, of having curls like Melina Kanakaredes’, of having a job with cool, high-tech gadgets, and of having Gary Sinise as my husband. On this particular night, I had the added bonus of hearing a new musical artist – an unknown actor who played a recovered homeless man-turned-struggling musician.
As I listened to his soul piercing voice, I was entranced. A shame he’s so old, I thought. If he had started younger, this guy could really have potential. I thought he was a little dated in his skinny jeans and black t-shirt, but I faulted the show’s wardrobe designer for that. His passion was mesmerizing, and his voice had incredible range. I wondered if the show was promoting this new singer and his band. I’m going to shock my kids and find out the name of this guy, I decided.
It was my chance to vindicate myself. I really don’t listen to the radio a lot, save NPR, classic rock or country. My iPhone reflects my tastes, and according to Harrison and Olivia, it’s woefully pathetic. Woeful would be enough, but it’s the pathetic that makes me wonder how bad off I am. They swear there is not hope for me, and I don’t bother arguing.
But now I had them. They were going to come home from Tahoe in a few days and find out their mom was edgy. She knew new artists before any of their friends – even before their father! It would be a sweet moment.
I waited and waited for the credits to roll, until the very last trademark symbol scrolled by. No artist. I went to the computer and searched through Hulu till I found the episode. I scanned the cast list and found the artist’s name. I clicked to Google to find the name of his band, and then to iTunes. Oh, yes, it involved a lot of digging, but the vision of redemption was my motivation. And I knew from my detective shows that motivation is key. Who was that dark-haired, elderly artist?
And there it was.
But I have to say, I’m enjoying the newest artist on my playlist.
… I wonder if the kids know that Pat Monahan came out with his own solo album?