Mr. Stinky Feet's Road Trip

Who needs legs to dance?

2010-10-14T21:17:00.004-05:00

I've got another "amazing kid" story. This is why I love my job.

This summer I met a beautiful young girl at a festival in western Kansas who was tooling around the fair grounds in a wheelchair. She had no legs below her knees.

As I started my show, I spotted her in the crowd, and she was bopping to the music as she sat in her chair. When it came time to choose kids to be in a band, she eagerly raised her hand. I couldn't pass her up. She wheeled up and took an instrument with the rest of the kids.

I was singing "Buggy Hop," which has a part that invites the kids to "hop, hop, hop" and "jump, jump, jump." I suddenly became really self-conscious about singing those lyrics since there was a kid right in front of me who clearly couldn't jump like the rest.

Fortunately, I couldn't have been more right. Indeed, she couldn't jump like the rest. She jumped better than the other kids. She grabbed the arm rests of her wheelchair and pushed down with all of her might, and she launched her little body right out of her seat. She doesn't need legs to dance!

I watched her the rest of the day at other performances, and she enthusiastically participated in all of them. Back in our "green room" tent, many of the other performers talked about how moved they were by her spirit.

Yesterday, I met this same girl again. I was playing at an elementary in Hays, Kansas, and I chose her to be in a band without realizing that she was the same girl, since I was in a town hours from where we first met. But she rolled up to me and smiled and asked, "Do you remember me?" Her twinkling eyes gave it away.

"How could I forget you?" I said. And, again, she rocked out to "Buggy Hop", and she danced better than all the rest. And I say that not just because she did it without legs, but because she had a huge grin on her face and lacked the self-consciousness that I could read on the faces of so many of the others. At age eight, she knows who she is, and she's proud of who she is.

The Sweet Smells of School

2010-08-15T21:16:00.004-05:00

(This was published in the August issue of Leawood Lifestyle magazine.)

Every time I step into a school cafeteria (which is easily 100 times a year) the acrid smells of sour milk, baked mystery meat, and bleachy cleansers swirl into an unpleasant olfactory gumbo that assaults my brain’s limbic system, somewhere near the hippocampus. That’s the spot where smells trigger memories.

Instantly I’m hurled back to third grade. I’m sitting at the lunch table nibbling on a crumby peanut butter sandwich and an apple, while my friend Steve inhales a “real” lunch of potato chips, a Ho-ho, and a can of Cragmont Lemon-lime soda wrapped in foil. His mother must really love him.

Over in the corner stands George the janitor standing ready with his mop and bucket and a box of sawdust, just in case one of those nervous stomachs decides to heave back its lunch.

Ahh…the smells of school send my mind reeling. Each room and each hallway prompts its own cascade of memories.

Over in the dank and musty gym – the woody smell of the fl oor mixed with rubber and leather and perspiration-soaked cotton reminds me of the single glorious victory we had in five years of elementary and middle school basketball.

In the kindergarten room, the distinctive aroma of Play-Doh, and Elmer’s glue, and the dusty scent of construction paper takes me back to a time when I was five, and my classmates and I sat with our eyes riveted to a tiny black-and-white television screen as we watched Apollo 14 splash safely back to earth.

And in early afternoon, in almost every classroom, nostrils are shocked to attention by the unique clammy bouquet of a gaggle of sweaty students fresh from recess. I’d like to bottle that scent and market it to retired teachers as “Eau de Playground.”

And then there are memories that trigger smells, like purple-inked hand-outs duplicated on ditto machines. Cool and still slightly damp as they come off the silver cylinder – there wasn’t a kid in my class who didn’t kill a few brain cells sniffing that irresistible chemical odor.

But the most hope-filled smells of all come from the supply aisles at the back-to-school sales.

Every August I’d joyfully inhale a stack of brand new school supplies that held infinite promise. There’s nothing that reeks of hope as an unmarked Big Chief tablet and an unblemished Trapper Keeper, or a freshly sharpened #2 pencil and a soft pink eraser. I’d cram what could fi t into a sweet chemical-smelling plastic pencil bag with a zipper that still worked.

The smell of school is in the air. Think of the possibilities!

95 shows of summer!

2010-08-05T09:21:00.014-05:00

(A parking lot jam in Lincoln, NE, and, in NM, Willa sings for the first time in public!)

We are in the final weeks of our summer tour, and what a blast it's been! We're on target to do 95 shows in 92 days. So far we've driven thousands of miles and rocked with audiences in Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma. Just yesterday 481 (official count) showed up in Overland Park, KS, for a super boisterous celebration. No better way to beat the heat than to come inside and rock!

And we've still got more shows to go throughout Kansas and Missouri, and in Iowa. Be sure to check out the schedule at www.jimcosgrove.com.

Check out the fabulous video montage of a tour of the Oklahoma City libraries that I did with my band The Hiccups. It was shot by our faithful and talented roadie Casey Friedman. View it here.

Hope to see you soon!

Swim Like a Child!

2010-06-16T12:13:00.005-05:00

(This is me serenading the youth of Salina.)

The Hiccups and I performed at the Smoky Hill River Festival in Salina, KS, last weekend. It's a fabulous festival with world-class music (and us) and stunning art work from around the U.S. Very well-run event and a load of fun.

I met two guys from a band from Uganda at the hotel pool. One of them had never been swimming before, and he was bobbing around like a little kid -- splashing and laughing.

He said, "I have always seen pictures of people in swimming pools with smiles on their faces. Now, I know why. This is so wonderful -- better than I had imagined!"

Such child-like joy from an adult is priceless and contagious! It reminds me to keep living on wonder.

Jiggle Jam 2010

2010-06-03T22:03:00.005-05:00

The following is an excerpt from a note that my beautiful bride Jeni posted on Facebook about Jiggle Jam 2010. We're still basking in the glow of an amazing weekend. She summed it up quite welll...

"The day after Jiggle Jam was over, Jim and I took our daughters, Lyda and Willa back to Crown Center to play in the fountains. “Where did Jiggle Jam go,” Willa asked.

Jiggle Jam had come and gone. There was scarcely a sign that it had even been there at all. The tents were gone. Decorations and trash had all been removed. Not even a sign of confetti could be found near the stage!

I can confidently speak for all of the Jiggle Jam organizers on this one - Our third year of Jiggle Jam blew us all away. We witnessed so many beautiful things that inspired us to keep this thing going. We provided the environment for a rockin’ festival experience. All four different stages were filled with opportunities for audience participation. We saw so many families playing instruments, singing on stage and showing off their dance moves. But, it truly is the families and musicians who bring the atmosphere to life.

I personally had many moments of “goose bumps.” The first stage most people saw was our Workshop Stage (dedicated to Bongo Barry). Barry’s dear friend, Brandon Draper kicked off the festival with a drum circle. I could hear the pounding all the way from the Jam Stage. I knew we were off to a great start. Barry would have loved it!

Then I knew we had done something right when our biggest crowd sang along to "ABC Gospel" with Choo Choo Soul. My favorite moment was dancing with Genevieve, DC and JJ board member, Amy Hilbrich Davis on stage with our kids during "Do Your Own Dance."

My face hurt from smiling during DC’s “Break-Dancing / Beat Box Workshop” on the Jiggle Stage. Not only are Genevieve and DC fabulous performers, you could tell they were genuinely having just as much fun as the children and adults. That energy spilled out into the audience. Moms, dads and children were inspired to bust a move in the middle of the dance floor.

StoneLion Puppets and Martin City Melodrama gave kids had the chance to be part of the puppetry and theater experience. The Jazz Storytellers exposed children to the sights, sounds and instruments that create jazz music. Terrance Simien and The Zydeco Experience allowed dozens of children to show off their love for Zydeco music during their performance (and almost everyone caught some groovy beads). Richard Renner helped spread humor and laughter to everyone he saw, either through the eyes of his Robot, or from up high on stilts.

As always, Jim Cosgrove & The Hiccups got dozens of kids and parents up on stage to play percussion instruments during all three of their sets. Ralph’s World literally invited the entire audience up on the stage. Ralph has a great following in Kansas City. We had to close off the stage it was so full! The Sugar Free Allstars taught children some classic 70’s moves during “Disco Dance Party.” While The Jimmies got a cool mosh pit going during their beach ball extravaganza for “Cool To Be Uncool.” (one of our favorite songs.) Secret Agent 23 Skiddo, along with his lovely wife, daughter and amazing band members demonstrated how Hip Hop is a family celebration. Kansas City fell in love with this group.

Moms and dads enjoyed classic 80’s tunes during The Zeros’ flashback set, while hundreds of children were invited on stage during the show to have their hair styled in New Wave fashion! The Zeros’ concert was complete with confetti guns, bubbles and beach balls!

Everyone could see, feel and hear the sense of love and community among Kansas City families and musicians during Jim’s tribute to Bongo Barry. Special thanks to Funky Mama, The Doo-Dads, Dino O’Dell, Brandon Draper, Pat Conway, Dean Ottinger, Ernest James, Tim Whitmer and The La La’s for joining Jim Cosgrove & The Hiccups during “Bright Light” and Bongo Barry’s family-friendly version of “Kansas City.”

One of the best interactive additions this year was the Garage Band Tent. It was a huge hit thanks to Keli and John Wenzel, Tye Murpy, and Pat Redd (Funky Munky Music). Imagine a tent set up like "Wayne's World," complete with keyboards, drums, guitars and even cow bells! Families and entertainers came in, plopped down on the couch and jammed to classic rock. Hundreds of children found that spark and discovered they CAN play an instrument!

It’s so beautiful to see a shared vision come to life and grow. Teams of volunteers and staff put in a lot of sweat and love to make this happen. Dave and Angee Simmons take great care of our staff and entertainers in one of the best hospitality rooms around! Amy Hilbrich Davis recruits her army of SEVEN children and darling husband to work the fest. Dan, Linda, Hanna, Amy, Erin Cosgrove make managing all three gates a family affair. The Cosgrove and Davis families define the true meaning of volunteerism!

Jiggle Jam is a family festival, created by families. And yet it’s a great challenge to experience it with our own children. None of us could do this without the help of friends and family who tend to our children while we work hard to make the festival run smoothly. Jim and I have Mimi and Papa to thank. Plus, everyone can always count on my mom to provide Mimi’s Lollipops in the green room.

This note could go on and on if I continue to attempt to thank EVERYONE who makes Jiggle Jam possible. But, the glue that holds all of this together comes from our fabulous Board of Directors and Volunteers. BIG THANKS TO: Keli "Super Glue" O'Neill Wenzel, Julie O'Neill, Pat O'Neill, Jennifer O’Neil, Jessica "Wonder Woman" Julich, Laren Mahoney, Shawn Sullivan Warner, Chris Campbell, Kate Migneron, Candy Tai, Barney "Bubble Machine" Walsh, Kate Migneron, Jana Soper, Paula Busser, Jeremy Roush, Jan Cichello, Kathy McGuire, Julie Beggren, Dan Leasure, Brendan Whisenant, and the entire security and cleaning crew at Crown Center for making the Jiggle Jam Family Experience everything it has become! I am ready for 2011!!!!

Happy Bottoms

2010-04-21T16:31:00.004-05:00

A clean, dry bottom makes for a happy baby. And, it makes for happy parents.

Unfortunately, not all bottoms are happy. But thanks to two very cool moms, Jill Gaikowski and Melissa Larson, the world is becoming a much happier place – one bottom at a time.

As the founders of Happybottoms.org, they collect diapers to help struggling families in the Kansas City area. Since November, they’ve collected 36,700!

“I am collecting diapers as much as I can and getting them to those who need them,” Gaikowski said. “Our goal is to coordinate diaper drives that support low-income families through community partners.”

According to their website www.happybottoms.org, disposable diapers are in high demand because:

1. Safety-net programs such as SNAP (food stamps) and WIC (women, infants, children) do NOT cover diapers.

2. Diaper companies do NOT make big donations to shelters or outreach programs.

3. Diapers are expensive and cost exponentially more at inner city convenience stores than they do at big box stores or online.

4. Cloth is NOT an option. Laundromats do NOT allow the washing of cloth diapers. Many low-income families don’t own a washing machine. Licensed daycare centers (esp. free or subsidized) do not accept cloth diapers. Parents must provide disposable diapers.

5. If a family can’t afford diapers, a baby will spend extended periods of time, sometimes days at a time, in the same soiled diaper. This increases the risk of numerous health problems, including diaper rash and may be linked to an increased rate of hepatitis. Not to mention an unhappy baby!

6. Unhappy babies are crying babies. Crying babies are more likely to be abused by an already stressed out caregiver.

This Saturday, you can help families in need by bringing a donation of diapers or wipes to my free concert. There will be door prizes and giveaways, too. Here are the details:

Mr. Stinky Feet Concert
Saturday, April 24
10 a.m.
Cedar Ridge Christian Church Gymnasium
8839 Lackman Rd., Lenexa, KS 66219
(Check out my show dates and details here)

If you can’t make it on Saturday, you can bring diaper, wipe, and ointment donations to any one of my shows from now until I'm too old to sing. Or, you can drop them off in collection bins at these locations:

Deanna Rose Farmstead
Paradise Park
Wonderscope Children's Museum
The Learning Tree (Leawood and Prairie Village)
Children's Orchard (Lee's Summit, Olathe, and Kansas City)
TITLE Boxing Club

We thank you! And all those tiny bottoms thank you!

California diary

2010-03-14T19:11:00.012-05:00

I just flew in this afternoon from LA to KC. I had a window seat. I love window seats for this reason: The world looks amazing from 30 thousand feet! And this is one beautiful country.

We took off over the pounding Pacific surf and doubled back over the rolling Hollywood hills, which gave way to snow-capped Sierras...which gave way to forsaken salt flats... which gave way to the lonely high desert... which gave way to rugged (and Grand) canyons and mesas... which gave way to the majestic Rockies... which gave way to the patchwork quilt of the nation's bread basket... which gave way to rolling pastures along the banks of the Missouri... which gave way to HOME!

For the past twelve days I've been in Southern California having a blast as always, and missing my girls. I slept in a big stucco Wigwam, addressed a conference for early childhood educators, performed some shows, recorded a new CD, and met some beautiful people. It's so good to be home...here are some snippets from my stay:

In Alhambra I met a homeless man named Chief Weeping Tree who gave me the coolest gift I got all week. After I slipped him a contribution, he recited for me his poem titled "Silent Plight." The first line is this: "Oh my, how more poor grow hungry every day where the fields weep for woe..." He thanked me by saying how much I had blessed him, when it was he who had done the blessing.

**********

I spent an hour in the laundromat talking with Roberto, an out-of-work carpenter in his late 50s. He told me how he visits the casinos 3-4 times a week and through much patience and calculation, he works the system of free points, free play, and free buffets to actually make a small profit. After my clothes dried and I was packed up, I gave Roberto a dollar and asked him play Keno for me next time and to email me if he wins. He said he'd have his son contact me, because his son knows computers..

If you ever need a dose of reality, don't turn on the TV, go to the laundromat!

**********

When I asked a group of school kids the other day where they can find rhythm, a little voice shouted out, "Target!" And, of course, he was correct. Rhythm -- wherever you are, there it is.

*********

As I was loading in my equipment for a school assembly in Fullerton, I was instructed by faculty members not to use the word "kid" or any derivative of the forbidden word. They had me so paranoid that I slipped -- twice! Poor kids will be scarred -- whoops there I go again!

*********

Some deranged old dude tried to pick a fight with me the other day at Griffith Park Observatory. (The same spot -- oddly enough -- where in "Rebel Without a Cause," Buzz challenges James Dean's character to a fight.) I was on the phone and gazing out at the Hollywood sign when he came up to me and grumbled that I was staring at him, which was "rude" and "provoking." Agreed. I told him I was only provoking the Hollywood sign. Now, move along.

California Dreamin'!!

2010-03-07T14:18:00.005-06:00

We are well rested after spending the night in a Wigwam on Route 66 in San Bernardino! It is one of three of the original seven Wigwam Motels in the U.S. (Check out the history of the place here.)

It was kitschy as all get-out. And comfortable and clean and a great blast from the past. Jeni and I were exhausted from a weekend at a fabulous childcare conference on the campus of UC-San Bernardino. I delivered a key-note address to 450 child care providers -- great enthusiasm in that room! Thank God there are dedicated people who are providing a nurturing environment for kids.

We now are sitting in the Crown City Studios in Pasadena tuning up the instruments and getting ready to start recording the new CD! I'll post pics as we go.

Where are we going?

2010-03-04T09:13:00.004-06:00

Technology sure makes life easy, but I think it's making me soft.

We arrived in Ontario, California, last night with one major item missing -- our GPS! I left it in the glove box of the van, which is parked at the airport in Kansas City. We're going to be here 12 days, and I was depending on that box to get us around. I feel so vulnerable.

It's not like I'm clueless to navigating. I love maps, and I generally have a great sense of direction. So, last night why did I feel like a lost kid searching for his mother at the mall? Before we hit the streets, we fumbled around with a rental car map, our cell phones, and a phone book (what's that?) until a friendly local dude offered assistance.

I could hear in my mind the sound of my deceased father smacking his forehead and shaking his head in disbelief. He's the one who taught me a love for orienteering. One of the few tangible objects that I inherited from my father was a yellowed plastic box full of maps. There are road maps and tourist maps and mostly old maps pulled from decades-old issues of National Geographic.

One of the many skills my father instilled in me -- in conjunction with that box of maps -- is a knack for getting from point A to point B. As we prepared for the dozens of road-trips we took as a family, he would spend hours planning, plotting, and routing. He loved figuring distances, estimating times of arrival, and calculating miles per gallon. And I loved looking over his shoulder at the scribbles on his maps.

As a young adult I experienced the satisfying rush of hitting the ground in an unknown territory, getting a lay of the land, grabbing a map, establishing my bearings, and sniffing out directions. And as much as I appreciate the convenience of a GPS, my dependence on it has shriveled my nurtured abilities and left me a puny helpless tourist.

So, now we are left armed with the quaint and antiquated tools of a laptop, Google maps, and a Blackberry. How will we survive? Stay tuned...

Calling all Stinky Feet Heads!

2010-02-19T07:52:00.004-06:00

The Times They Are a-Changin'...so let's make music!

Dear Friends:

Thank you so much for the overwhelming support you've given me for more than a decade. Please know that I am fully aware that I wouldn't be doing what I love without you.

As some of you may know, the landscape of the music industry has changed dramatically over the past five years. (Check out my interview at Zooglobble.com) As the giant labels have faltered or collapsed with the rapid decline of retail album sales, independent artists have emerged as the leaders of the changing tide. Where some see a shriveled industry on life support, I see opportunity and challenge. And I love challenges.

So, I'm asking you to join me as we embark on an adventure into new territory. I have a goal of raising enough money to pay for outstanding musicians, promotion, production, and a Grammy-nominated producer for my new record. Please help me make this dream a reality. You've already been a big part of my success, so please consider taking part in the production of this project. You'd buy the new CD anyway, right? So, consider this a pre-purchase plan.

In addition to putting my heart and soul into making the best family music I can, check out some of the things we're offering below in exchange for your support.

Thank you for trusting me to deliver the very best for your children.

Cheers,

Jim

Levels of Participation (click on any level you'd like - you'll be taken to Jim's site where you can make your much appreciated donation):

"The Satisfied Fan" ($20) - you'll receive the new CD, autographed by Jim

"The Bargain Hunter" ($50) - you'll receive the new CD, autographed by Jim, a t-shirt, and a bonus CD selected randomly from Mr. Stinky Feet's past albums (all for $50? Yep!)

"Now You're Just Showing Off" ($150) - all of the above, plus name recognition (yours or your child's) and a "thank you" in the liner notes of the new CD (your kids will think you're so much cooler now that your name appears in Mr. Stinky Feet's new CD!)

"Happy Birthday To You" ($500) - You'll receive all of the above, plus a personal phone call from Mr. Stinky Feet to your child on his or her next birthday (unless they prefer a text!)

"We'll Work Out The Details Later" ($5000) - all of the above, plus Jim will come to your house and perform a private concert for your kids and their friends (while supplies last - there are only so many days in a year!)

"Mr. Flexibility Feet" (name your price) - no donation too small or too large!

Sometimes you just need a show.

2010-02-09T21:34:00.007-06:00

Yesterday our five-year-old daughter taped a handwritten note to our front window for all the world to see. It reads, "Winter end please. To God. Love Lyda."

That about sums up how everyone in our house feels right now. Just a bad case of the winter blahs. Enough snow! Enough cold! I mean, it's been pretty and all, but enough already!

And today was another one of those cooped-up-in-the-house days. Sweat pants and slippers. Soup for lunch. (Did I even brush my teeth this morning?) Hours of work on the computer, until by late afternoon my head throbbed. I was scheming for a hot shower and early bedtime when Jeni said, "Shouldn't you be getting ready for your show?"

"Show?! I have a show tonight? Holy crikey, I totally spaced it." Some days my head is not in the game, and this was one of them.

I inhaled some left-over pasta and put on my game face, even though the thought of actually shaving and dressing for the day at five o'clock didn't thrill me. As I drove to the show, I gave myself a pep talk and shouted my gratitude for a paying gig.

When I arrived at the school gym, the women from Hickman Mills Parents as Teachers were there to greet me with hugs. (Hugs always help boost my energy -- like spinach for Popeye.) But, they all seemed to be operating on deflated resignation that the cold and snow would keep the crowd away.

At ten minutes to show time, there were about 12 people milling around the gym. The prospects looked bleak. But then people started to trickle in. And more came. Then more, still. We delayed the intro five minutes as families in their parkas came streaming in. Then, another five minutes. There were well over a 100, maybe close to 150.

Finally, I strummed a few chords to grab their attention and off we went. We danced. We sang. We laughed. We rocked. Moms and dads and grandmas grooved. Sisters and brothers boogied. Diapered ones toddled around to their own beat. It was an all-out mid-winter antidote-to-cabin-fever bash!

It's as if everyone in that room blended their voices together in perfect unison to shout to the universe, "Hey, we've got all the warmth we need right here! We've got song! We've got dance! We've got friends!"

Sometimes you just need a show to kick out the blues.

The year in numbers (and photos)

2009-12-31T16:14:00.021-06:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

"Blessed. Blessed, indeed."

That's the answer I would get every time I asked a woman I used to work with, "How are you?" I started to ask her that just so I could hear her response.

It's time to recall the blessings of 2009. There are so many. Thank you to all who helped us live our dream every day. We couldn't cruise the country singing songs without your support.

And 2009 wasn't without its difficulties, sadness, and tears. We attended more funerals in the past six months than we have in the past three years. There are still gaping holes in our hearts from the passing of our dear friend and super-human Bongo Barry Bernstein (photo is from our show together in May), and from the equally sudden loss of Jeni's cousin Greg. Both are child-like spirits who continue to inspire.

Many thanks to those of you who hosted shows and opened up your homes to us this year and fed us and gave us a place to rest: The McLoones, Gjovigs, Skuces, Gogals, Christnagels, Eitzmans, Trices, Carters, Obamas (the Lincoln bed was really comfy), Sedenos, Leahys, Pizzos, Castenedas; Stotzers, Annette O'Connor, Diane Baryenbruch, and Kate Kopischke.

Here are some outstanding numbers from 2009:

13: Number of fish caught and kissed by Lyda while fishing for the first time in Wisconsin.

2: Number of times Jim was mistaken for Willa's grandfather. Number of teeth lost by Lyda in five week period. Number of kids who vomited during a Mr. Stinky Feet concert. Number of times in the same week Jeni saw Bon Jovi in concert.

126: Number of jars of peanut butter collected at shows in December for local food banks.

1: Number of hotel microwave ovens blown open by exploding eggs. Number of breweries toured (Leinenkugal in WI). (No correlation between these items.) Number of raisins removed by medical professionals from Willa's nose.

117: Number of episodes of The Brady Bunch in the complete five-season DVD box set. We've watched all of them.

3: Number of fingers Willa holds up when she tells people she's two.

25,000+: Number of people who attended Jiggle Jam 2009. (The grooviest family music fest in the country! Photo is backstage with Recess Monkey and Brady & Bridget Rymer)

24: Number of boyfriends Lyda collected on tour -- as of today. (Down from the mid-30s in September because she "dumped" some.)

49: Number of shows Jim played in July.

8: Number of days in a week -- Lyda and Willa are huge Beatles fans.

11: Number of requests for a photograph Grandpa Schmidt got while made up like Gene Simmons at the KISS concert.

14: Number of states in which we performed.

16: Number of times the girls rode the Wacky Worm roller coaster at Worlds of Fun.

240: Total number of Mr. Stinky Feet Concerts.

110: Number of times Lyda sang "Stinky Feet" on stage.

18,000+: Number of tour miles.

1.3 Bazillion: Number of hours Jeni spent on Facebook.

7.7 Gazillion: Number of times we'd like to say "Thank you" to you all for helping make this life so wonderful. And it still wouldn't adequately represent our gratitude.

Lessons in Courage

2009-12-03T17:06:00.007-06:00

Maddox and me

If I had to choose one thing that is most fulfilling about my career, I suppose it would be the amazing life lessons that I've learned from kids. And there's no shortage of those lessons -- they keep coming.

Last week I visited two spirited and courageous kids at Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. The first was Maddox, an energetic three-year-old with a spine disorder. You'd never know the way this guy bounds around in his wheelchair that he also has a metal halo attached to his skull with multiple screws. It serves as a traction device to help straighten out his spine -- and it seems to be working. We laughed and sang songs and played instruments, and he hammed it up for the camera. Pure joy.

Maddox exemplifies one of my favorite things about kids: They're usually pretty good about living in the moment. You can see it in their cherub faces as you walk the halls of any pediatric ward. They're not worried about the past or the future. Their heads aren't full of the worldly stresses that weigh heavily on us adults. Their "carpe diem" attitudes seem to scream, "Forget about my bald head, let's play! So what if I'm strapped into this chair for a few months, I've got wheels! OK, so my body is like a pin cushion from all the needle pokes, but do you want to hear a knock-knock joke?" I can't say I'd be very "present" (or pleasant) if I were in the same situation.

The next girl I visited was Elise. She's three, too, and is being treated for Leukemia. She'd been running a fever of about 105 for a few days. Yes, that's right, 105 degrees!! As you can imagine, she was a bit sluggish. She was asleep when I came in the room. When her mother woke her, she turned to me and grinned. We sang a few songs, and she asked for the "Slug Bug" song. Up went her hands, shaking them crazy everywhere, as she giggled! Then she rolled over and fell back to sleep. If I had a fever that high, I don't think I'd want to see some goofy dude with a guitar. But, not Elise. Her mom said she's been talking about it ever since.

Please remember all those kids who will spend the holidays in the hospital. Remember, too, their parents who will be standing, sitting, pacing, and sleeping anxiously by their sides. And please remember their health care providers who skillfully and tenderly encourage their healing.

I'll leave you with a great quote that's on the wall of the lobby of Children's Mercy Hospital...

"Skill cannot take the place of sympathy and understanding, for science without heart is ugly and pitiless." Dr. Katherine Berry Richardson

Lessons in Grace

2009-11-09T09:39:00.008-06:00

Lisa and son Josh at Arrowhead Stadium

The first time I saw Lisa was in the audience at one of my shows a couple of years ago. She wasn't just another mom with her kids in her lap. Clearly, she was different. For starters, she wore a bandanna that covered a very obviously bald head. But what really made her stand out was her bright eyes, her smile, and her enthusiasm. Not what I expected from someone slogging through the nausea of chemo-therapy.

Lisa and her kids -- Josh and Lilli -- became regulars, showing up at performances all over town. As Jeni and I got to know her, she shared more of her story. First the diagnosis, then the treatment -- 16 rounds of chemo, then the strain it put on her marriage, then the divorce, then the double mastectomy -- followed by 33 rounds of radiation, then the joy of re-emerging health and re-emerging hair. Through it all she showed patience, strength, and determination. Not that there weren't ever a few bitter words thrown it now and then, but almost always she beamed with confidence and enthusiastic presence. I'm pretty sure they call that "grace."

In August Funky Mama and I played a fundraiser for a man who was going through prostate cancer treatment. And here comes smiling Lisa bounding through the door, without her children. Her ex had the kids that weekend, so she came by herself, to "show support," she said.

Then her smile turned to a determined grimace and she said,"I got some bad news yesterday. The cancer is back, and it's in my brain. They found 60 little tumors."

Before I could respond, she took a deep breath and said, "But I start a new treatment on Monday and I'm gonna beat it, because Josh and Lilli need their mom."

As she was heading in to take a seat, she said, "I didn't know you did these kinds of fundraisers. Do you think you could do one for me and my family?"

"You bet I will. Anything to help," I said.

"Good. I want to do it in February."

That was the last time I saw Lisa. She was finally relieved of her pain and led home to paradise by the angels on Saturday morning.

The last time we corresponded via email, she requested that we do the concert whether she's there or not. So, for Josh and Lilli, we're on for February. Watch the calendar for details.

Peace to you, graceful Lisa.

Drug-free Road Tripping (Part 2)

2009-10-03T21:28:00.006-05:00

Now we're cookin'! These are the kinds of discussions I like. Thank you for the great feedback on the last post about road trips -- and to those who submitted helpful tips to make family travel a bit less stressful and fully more enjoyable. And it seems I've struck a nerve with "anonymous".

For the record, let me make it clear that everything I state here is obviously my opinion -- take what you want and leave the rest. Those opinions may be...well...opinionated at times, but I have never claimed authority (or perfection) on anything. This is a forum to share ideas. After tens-of-thousands of miles of tears and tantrums, I have found what works for my traveling family. And, like all parents, I know that what works today may not work tomorrow. That's why I solicit other ideas. I need all the help I can get.

And I think most agree that it's best to utilize all possible strategies and tools before resorting to medicating the kids. I, for one, much prefer arguing and whining in the backseat from kids who are expressing emotions than passive indifference from a couple of slack-jawed zombies.

Here are a few of the other suggestions:

Lisa from Milwaukee: "Don't forget audio books -- we've heard some great stories we wouldn't have read otherwise this way. Most public libraries have great selections."

Laura from Austin: "Yep--no drugging or vids! ...Bringing a potty chair (with bag liners) along when they were really young helped!"

Gwyneth from Atlanta: "Nuts are favorites for car food... And carschooling! The girls get so much work done in the car."

Andrea from St. Louis (I think): "My mom used to bring little things for us that she held on to and let us open every hour or so, picture books, coloring pages, ball mazes, small surprises are something to look forward to and keep kids entertained."

My sister Ann chimed in, too, and reminded me that my mom used to slip us a half tablet of Dramamine on trips -- ostensibly to keep puking to a minimum (there were eight kids in the car -- so one small regurgitation could start a chain reaction), but she thinks it was to make us drowsy. So it goes -- I, too, was a child zombie.

And one last tip to calm a screaming baby -- Simulate soothing ocean surf with the radio. Sounds strange, but I'm still amazed that this worked on Lyda for a while. Dial up some static on the car radio and, with the volume nob, turn up the static, then back down, then up, then down. Over and over. (It'll take a minute to get the right rhythm.) Before you know it, you're sitting on a virtual beach. It calmed her down and saved me several times when I thought I couldn't take it anymore.

Happy travels...Cheers!

Please, don't drug the kids!

2009-10-02T09:22:00.014-05:00

Last week a Facebook friend posted a question about how to keep a toddler occupied and happy on a long road trip. A few of the responses were startling, but not at all surprising.

Two of the comments to the post recommended using Benadryl to sedate the child to ensure a peaceful journey. Another person suggested sugary snacks. And another gushed over the fact that their kid didn't make a peep the whole way because he had a DVD player with headphones to pacify him.

We travel thousands of miles every year with our five and two-year-old. The girls have been on the go since birth, and we've never had to resort to drugging them to keep things sane.

Think about this: How often do you get uninterrupted time in the same space with your kids? Think of the possibilities! You can actually talk to them and laugh with them and play games and sing and learn something about their personalities. This is a great "teaching moment".

Make a space in the back for one parent to comfortably sit with the kids. And you don't need to sit there the whole trip, but every once in a while climb back there and read. Sing. Color. Perform puppet shows. Play games. Ask them lots of questions. This may sound exhausting, and it is. But who said parenting should be a spectator sport?

And think about the memories you are creating. Do you think 20 years from now your kid is going to say, "I remember that trip to grandma's when I was five. That was the 23rd time I watched 'Little Mermaid'. I'll never forget it!"?

Things aren't always easy going, but here are a few other tips we've learned in the last five years that have worked for us:

Kids adapt to whatever schedule you adopt. Ease them into a long road trip by getting them used to being in the car for extended stretches. Weeks before your big journey, take them on a couple hour-long drives in the country -- make them outings to a pumpkin patch or an apple orchard.

Break the trip into two hour chunks (unless they're sleeping, then plow ahead!). Stop every 90 minutes or so for a bathroom break. Stretch your legs. And realize that a seven-hour Map-Quested journey will take closer to nine. And give up the dream that you can make the kind of time you did when you were 20 and flying solo and peeing in a cup.

Offer healthy snacks. And I don't mean chips and pretzels -- those are carb heavy and quickly metabolize into sugar. Pumping a kid full of sugar and strapping them into a car seat for a couple of hours is child abuse. I'm befuddled by the parents who do this and then don't understand why their kid is cranky and can't sit still. "She ate a whole bag of Skittles! She should be happy." Balance carbs with protein like nuts and cheese and organic yogurt (no high fructose corn syrup, please!). Leave the candy and soda on the shelf at the store. Bring fruit instead.

Limit the video pacifier! You don't need it, really. Kids are pretty resourceful and can learn to entertain themselves -- but it takes you to teach them how. OK, I admit we have a portable DVD player. We went three years without one and then sparingly introduced it when we were gifted one. On long days (five hours or more) we limit viewing to one DVD. On short trips under three hours, we don't use it.

Take care of yourself. If you're rested and well-fed, you're happy. And so the kids will be, too. When you're getting bleary-eyed, a roadside break and a brisk walk is better than a latte in the long run.

I'll blabber about this topic more, I'm sure. Please send your ideas about what works for healthy and happy road trips.

Self-serve Peace

2009-09-21T14:08:00.008-05:00

Today is the International Day of Peace. If only every day were Peace Day. So, what are you going to do to be peaceful today?

I'm thinking that trust and respect are pretty reliable cornerstones upon which to build a peace-filled world. I discussed respect today with a hundred-or-so school kids from Spring Green, Wisconsin, and I asked for three examples of ways they can be respectful and promote peace.

"Do your homework," said a fourth-grader. And the other kids agreed that this would create some peace with teachers, parents, and themselves, because they just might learn something.

The next mischievous-looking kid said, "Don't chuck rocks at birds." Pretty much all were in support of refraining from chucking rocks at people, animals, windows, moving vehicles, (or anything for that matter) as a decent move towards respect.

The last suggestion was from a kindergartener who simply said, "Type." After a bit of cross-examination she came out with, "Like on a computer." And the group decided that typing a letter to your grandma or typing a love note was a pretty good way to promote peace.

So we just need to round out these great suggestions for respect with an example of trust. And I found one -- a particularly impressive exercise in trust at a small farm on a gorgeous country road on the outskirts of Cumberland, WI.

Hustad's Sugar Bush makes and sells 100% maple syrup. They've got a little gift shop right there on their property east of town. But when the Hustads aren't around, they have a self-serve window where you can grab some bottles or jugs of syrup and leave your check or cash.

I love this kind of trust. Just pull what you need off of the shelf and put your money in a slot in the wood. And, if you need it, there's a little plastic container with some one-dollar bills and some coins where you can make change.

I'm guessing that for the few times they've been ripped off, the Hustads have made up for it by the stream of customers who have left extra money just because they were impressed that they were shown respect enough to be trusted.

Wouldn't we all be better off with this kind of trust? I'm a strong believer that if you live a life of trust, you rarely -- if ever -- get burned. And even if you do, you can rest knowing that what goes around, comes around. Call it karma, call it what you will.

If only we all had the peace of mind and the trust of a Hustad.

Stinky Feet Ice Cream...Mmmmm...

2009-09-02T09:42:00.010-05:00

Mr. Stinky Feet has now been immortalized as a creamy frozen confection. I feel like I've officially "made it." The generous and creative folks at eCreamery in Omaha have made, not one, but two flavors of ice cream in my honor. Who wudda thunk?

The Hiccups and I performed at Dundee Day in Omaha last weekend. Dundee is a groovy historic neighborhood in Nebraska's largest city -- lots of beautiful old homes and cool shops. It's a great fest and we had beautiful weather. Many thanks to the folks at Dundee Bank for sponsoring our show.

To top it all off, Abby and Becky at the boutique ice cream parlor eCreamery (on the corner of 50th and Underwood) decided to honor our appearance by offering "Ooey Gooey Stinky Feet" as their special flavor of the day. It's vanilla with swirls of gooey caramel and fudge. Then they sent me home with my very own pint of "Stinky Feet - Special Edition," which is a lemon sorbet with coconut shavings (non-dairy for my discerning constitution).

These ice cream goddesses do most of their business online at eCreamery.com. You've got to check out this site where you can design your very own custom flavor and have it packaged with a custom label and shipped to your favorite ice cream lover as a super-thoughtful gift. What a cool idea! They are sweet culinary geniuses.

With a name like "Stinky Feet", it's got to be tasty! Ask for it by name.

Bongo B: Keep on Drumming!

2009-08-26T21:30:00.009-05:00

When Bongo Barry asked a crowd of a thousand people at the first Kansas City Jiggle Jam to start chanting the phrases "Charlie Parker plays jazz" and "Really great barbeque", I thought he was nuts. And he was nuts. That's why I loved him.

He was nuts about music. Nuts about people. And nuts about life. Bongo Barry could get anyone to sing or dance. He had the talent and the passion and, most important, the genuine love for his fellow humans.

Barry unexpectedly left his earthly body today to take on his next spiritual assignment. A shocking and devastating blow to all who love him, including the children's music family in Kansas City.

He was a truly beautiful, loving soul who included everyone in whatever he did. He was the only performer I know who would bring enough instruments to a show so everyone in the audience could participate. Really! He had tubs and tubs loaded with oodles of drums, egg shakers, and film canisters full of beans.

And here's a classic example of the whimsy and love he sprinkled on our world...He recently made a road trip to western Kansas for some shows. Along the way he stopped at highway rest areas and left behind colorful plastic percussion egg shakers with his name and website printed on them. This was no marketing ploy, it was another example of Barry sharing the gift of rhythm with the world. And that's what he did best...share. He gave and gave and gave of himself, always. Including his sweat. He perspired more than anyone I've ever met. After every show -- soaked to the bone. I'll miss those sweaty hugs.

And I'll miss seeing him at the winter solstice party leading the singing in his Santa hat -- the only Jewish Sufi I know who also celebrated Christmas and solstice. He celebrated it all. Imagine the drum circle forming in heaven right now! No doubt, Jerry Garcia is jammin' with him.

To you, my dear blessed Soul Brother, I send my love for a swift and rhythmic journey!

Are you rich?

2009-08-25T21:06:00.007-05:00

Kids ask a ton of questions. That's one of the reasons I think they're so cool. It's part of their drive to quench their insatiable thirst for learning.

Today kicked off the school assembly season for me. And, as always, I look forward to the barrage of questions from curious little minds...

Is that your real name? Do your feet really stink? Why don't you just take a bath? Eeewwww...do you really have bugs in your basement? Are you telling the truth about that dinosaur dancing in his underwear? Have you met the president? Are you Miranda Cosgrove's dad? Are you famous?

Most of the time I just smile and nod vigorously like a well-oiled bobble-head. But there is one question that sends my noggin into overdrive every time I hear it...Are you rich?

Many kids assume that since I carry a guitar and have my name on some CDs that I must be rich. Anybody who has been interviewed on TV by the local weather personality has got to be famous.

"It depends on your definition of 'rich'," I tell them. "By my standards, I am very rich."

I do what I love, and I love what I do. I get up with my girls every morning and read them stories and cook them breakfast. I sometimes get to nap with them after lunch. I play for a living. I get to travel around this great country and sing with kids. I've got food in my belly and a roof over my head. My family is happy and healthy. I own an automobile that works and another that sometimes works. I pay taxes, and I had a dental appointment this year.

That may not sound very rich to some people, but it sounds pretty well-off to me.

(Here's an ironic aside... A financial planner has been hounding me for months to become his client. I finally agreed to meet with him, and once he found out how much money I make, he hasn't called me back! Now, that's rich.)

If I'm ever feeling down about money and or some perceived "lack", I just plug my seemingly meager salary into a world wealth calculator (check it out here -- you'll be amazed) to be reminded that I'm living like a king compared to most people on this planet. I'm among the richest 3 percent in the world, and I'm 55 times wealthier than a billion people.

Humbling indeed. Blessed indeed. I am livin' the dream.

Perspective on Life

2009-08-17T16:15:00.010-05:00

Hug your loved ones tightly and often!

My veggie oil-powered Jetta died last week. Just wouldn't start. I've been very proud of that car and thrilled that I could drive to and from shows all over the Midwest and never pay for fuel. Perhaps my pride contributed to its demise.

The verdict is that it will cost about $2,000 to get it running again. That's after I put $2,500 into it last fall for a new tranny, a $1,000 a year earlier for a new timing belt, and about another $1,500 in various other ailments. Bottom line: I'm confident the universe will provide the money to fix it, but is it worth it? I could really use that money for new carpet in the basement, a real vacation, and Lyda's college fund.

This is a classic example of what my friend Kate would call a "Middle Class Drama." It goes like this:

If I were poor, I would have no car problems because I wouldn't have a car at all. And I would only dream of owning two. And if I were super "wealthy", also no car problems. I surely would own something other than a "clunker" or would simply buy a new one.

So, here I am in the middle. Blessed to have the means to own two cars (actually one, now, since the Jetta doesn't run -- which, oddly enough, makes it ineligible for "cash for clunkers.") And hog-tied because it'll take some creativity to pay to fix it.

While I'm wracking my brain trying to devise a solution and feeling sorry for myself and fretting whether or not I'll ever be able to afford college for my girls, life sends me a harsh and shocking reminder of my blessed existence.

Last Friday my former classmate Tom Murphy was killed instantly by a falling boulder that smashed through his windshield while he was driving home from a mountain vacation with his family. Bam -- just like that. No signs. No warnings. Nothing he could have done to avoid it. His wife Jenny was able to prevent further tragedy by grabbing the wheel with one hand and applying the brakes with the other to bring the car to a stop. I can only imagine the utter shock and horror.

Tom brought such great joy and laughter to this world. His unexpected death reminds me to pray for peace and healing for his family and to approach life like he did.

All of a sudden my car drama doesn't seem so serious. In fact, cars and other things of this world now seem rather trivial. I'm blessed beyond belief with a healthy, beautiful family, and a fulfilling career. I'm hugging my wife a bit tighter today and loving on my girls a bit more enthusiastically.

Oh, and I'm riding my bike to fetch groceries more often -- with a smile.

God. Love. Hate.

2009-07-21T23:51:00.016-05:00

Pete Seeger's banjo

My apologies to the good people of Topeka, Kansas. You have been so good to me over the years, and today I'm choosing to give space to your (arguably) most nefarious and disturbed citizen.

The family and I recently visited Topeka for three truly moving performances. (See video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1C0x5JZg23M&feature=related) More than 1,300 people over the course of the day! During one of our breaks we drove down a street in the state's capitol and saw a banner that read, "God hates America."

The banner was lashed to a tall fence that surrounded some property. A "compound" you might call it, and a sure indication that behind it lurks anarchists. Why is it that those who live on the violent edges of society live in compounds? No doubt, to protect themselves from backlash to their hate-filled existence.

The property and the sign belong to Fred Phelps and his Westboro Baptist Church. Phelps is the self-proclaimed pastor and chief hater of America, Canada (all countries, really), US military personnel, homosexuals, Jews, non-whites, and, of course, Heath Ledger.

Now, I'm not sure what "god" his sign is referring to, but it isn't the God I know. God, by the very definition of "God," is incapable of hate. Love and hate simply can't co-exist -- one precludes the other. I'm pretty sure that God loves all the things that Phelps hates, and I'd bet God even loves Phelps.

So, here's what we do. We take a move from Pete Seeger's playbook and surround Phelps and other hate-mongers with love. Really. I know you'd rather inflict more painfully-satisfying things on him, but this is our best antidote to his kind of venom. A famous quote inscribed on the head of Seeger's banjo reads, "This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender." I love that.

Our four-year-old daughter Lyda reminded me of something so simple the other day. We were making wishes on something and she asked me what I wished. I said, "World peace." And she said, "We've already got peace, because we've got God."

She's right, as always. We've already got peace right here; we just have to choose it, use it, mobilize it, and surround the planet with it.

Now, get out there and spread some love!

Noah's Scar

2009-07-05T19:36:00.008-05:00

Noah (far left) with his family, my girls, and me.

Before we head into the thick of our super-charged July (49 shows in 31 days), I really want to tell you about our friend Noah who we saw on our annual tour through New Mexico this year.

Noah is five, lives in Albuquerque, and has seen my show every year for the past four years. He was a bit concerned he might miss this year's show. His parents told me that when Noah found out when I was scheduled to play, he got very upset because it was a mere two weeks after his open-heart surgery. Yes, heart surgery! He was more concerned that his docs wouldn't let him come to the show than he was about his healing.

Well, he showed up in spirited form!

"Hey, Mr. Stinky Feet, look at this," he said lifting up his shirt. There was his souvenir "zipper" from his surgery, running from his belly to the space between his collar bones. And sitting atop that scarred torso was a proud beaming face. You should have seen that grin. And the scar! Impressive.

"Is it still sore?" I asked.

"Nah...well...just a little," he admitted. But you'd never know it because he was cruising and bopping along with the rest of the crowd.

Aren't kids flat out amazing? Just think if that had been you or me. We'd be moping around, complaining about how the pain meds weren't doing the job, and milking as much sympathy as possible.

Kids don't have time for that. They're on to more important things, like singing and dancing, and...living.

Thanks for the reminder, Noah. You've got your priorities straight. Peace...

Calling all carnivores!

2009-06-30T20:33:00.011-05:00

If this doesn't put you off beef for good, there's no hope.

No matter which way the wind is blowing in Dalhart, Texas, you can smell it. The locals call it "the smell of money," when really it's just the smell of cow butt. I call it "the smell of death."

Twice a year for the past 20 years I have driven through Dalhart on my way to and from New Mexico, and I have never grown accustomed to the stench and the sheer size of the dung heaps that lurk on the edge of town. As you head west out of Dalhart on Highway 54 you can literally see a murky dome of methane looming ahead. Warning: ROLL UP THE WINDOWS and PUT YOUR AC ON RECIRCULATE!!!

And as you get closer to the cloud, you'll start to see brown dots on the horizon. Those dots are cows -- tens of thousands of heads of cattle -- as far as the eye can see. They are crammed shoulder-to-shoulder into two massive feedlots on either side of the highway. You've never seen anything like this anywhere.

Regardless of my revulsion, this is an amazing vista. (The above picture doesn't do it justice, so I've added a Google Earth image of one of the lots.) These are huge bovine concentration camps the size of small towns where the cattle gorge themselves, poop a ton, eat some more, get fattened up, and then get loaded onto semis or box cars and transported up to Liberal, Kansas, where they're slaughtered and turned into Happy Meals.

And the frontage road leading to the larger Cargill feedlot is called "Farm to Market Road." Doesn't that sound quaint? As if these places can be considered "farms." How would you like to be the guy who drives around every day and picks up the dead cows who have keeled over in the heat? There's not a lick of shade for miles.

Bovine growth hormones! It's what's for dinner.

The sound of the sun!

2009-06-15T21:28:00.019-05:00

Albuquerque, NM -- The sun sure is intense here. So, dude (or "vato" as they say here), WE'RE GOING SOLAR!!!

That's right, we're running the show on rays. And sunshine never sounded so good!

I can't think of a better place to kick off the new solar-powered show. The indigenous Zia people of New Mexico regard the sun as a sacred symbol. And with good reason. The sun regulates all life on our planet.

The Zia sun symbol is a red circle with groups of rays pointing in four directions, and it's so important to New Mexico, that you'll find it on the state flag.

My buddy Paul Pavlik who used to work with me on the Navajo reservation about 20 years ago designed a portable solar generator that consists of a 3.5 foot/80-watt solar panel and a large tool box housing a 12-volt battery, charge controller, and an inverter. Pretty slick little system, although the box weighs a ton.

In front of an energetic crowd of about 300 at the Lomas-Tramway Library last week, we set up our solar panel and plugged 'er in. All went smoothly.

We've used it three more times since then and it's been an instant hit with the fans. And I somehow feel a bit better about running on smog-free and cost-free energy.

I hope a few years from now we'll all look back, shake our heads and say, "Remember when 'going solar' was such a big deal and we all thought we were so cool? And, look at the size of those panels! I carry one in my wallet, now."

Look for more solar shows and my new solar-powered school assembly this fall.

Life lesson...

2009-06-15T16:43:00.006-05:00

The other night we helplessly watched EMTs attempt to resuscitate a man who fell with a heart attack in the parking lot of our hotel in Albuquerque. They worked for nearly an hour, but could not revive him.

The whole scene played out just a couple hundred feet from where the girls were playing in the pool. Lyda was very concerned and we assured her that the paramedics would help him and take him to the hospital. But when the ambulance drove off with out him and his body lay in the parking lot for another hour with a sheet over it, we distracted her from the scene.

Terribly upsetting for all of us. We don't know who he was or where he was from. And the scene seemed so lonely, as there were no family or friends around him. We prayed the whole time for peace for him and his family.

It was a stark reminder of the fragility and temporary nature of our lives. We're all hugging a little tighter these days.

Tempus fugit. Carpe diem!

Anything Goes in Liberal

2009-06-05T10:22:00.015-05:00

The Munchkin girls at the Land of Oz!

As a lover of words, I'm particularly fond of a good oxymoron now and then. Here's one of my favorites: Liberal, Kansas.

Now, that's not a dig on this fair city. It's just the truth. You'd be hard-pressed to find many Obama-mamas in this agricultural hub of 20,000 in southwestern Kansas.

This is the home of International Pancake Day every Fat Tuesday, which includes a friendly little competition between Liberal, and Olney, England, with women running down the streets of each town flipping pancakes. It's been going on for more than 60 years, and organizers say it's the only race of its kind on the planet.

Also, in Liberal you'll find the Land of Oz where a real-life "Dorothy" will take you on a tour of Auntie Em's farm house. (This was a big hit with Lyda and Willa and the big dude from Arkansas who was on the tour with us.) There's the Mid-America Air Museum (the fifth largest collection of civilian and military aircraft in the US), two massive cattle feedlots, and the National Beef Packing plant (the town's largest employer). Sorry, we ordered the vegetarian pasta.

And then today when I ordered two veggie burgers at the local Burger King, the guy at the counter asked, "So, are you a vegetarian?" But his bug-eyed face was screaming something like, "Wow, I've never seen one of you in real life!" When I acknowledged that I was, in fact, a functioning herbivore (actually pescatarian, 'cause I do like fish), he suspiciously asked, "Are you from around here?" When I told him I am from Kansas City, he sort of nodded as if that explained everything. And that ended our brief exchange.

I have driven through Liberal at least twice a year for the past 21 years. I've seen it add a few new hotels, but not change too drastically. That's why I like it. It's an oasis, and it's about half-way between Kansas City and Albuquerque -- two of my favorite places. And the kids here can rock with the best of them.

So, how did this glowing crimson beacon in a historically red state get it's blueish name? Legend has it that one of the early settlers, Seymour Rogers, was known to be "mighty liberal" with the water from his well to those passing through. (He sounds like a socialist to me.;)

Next stop: Hooker, Oklahoma -- Home of The Horny Toads. I'm not kidding!

Summer Tour Here We Come

2009-06-02T15:10:00.011-05:00

The "Let's Stick Together Tour" is heading to New Mexico. As we prepare to depart on our annual Southwest summer tour, I thought it would be appropriate to mention some of the cool things we saw and did this spring.

Hershey's Chocolate Factory: Hershey, PA

Willa dons her hat to work on the Kiss assembly line.

StinkFest 2009: Brooklyn, NY (Kindiefest from now on)

I think I frightened Stefan Shepherd when I gave him a big hug.

Jeni with Audra Rox and Marty Beller from TMBG.

World's Largest Porch Swing: Hebron, Nebraska.

That's Jeni giving it a go. Does it really count as a "porch swing" if it's not on a porch?

Eitzman's Farm: On the Kansas/Nebraska border...

Here are the girls riding in a tractor with farmer Harlan.

And here is Jeni's favorite picture from our spring tour...

Jiggle Jam 2009

2009-05-25T22:04:00.017-05:00

So, did Jiggle Jam live up to it's hype?? I may be a smidge biased, but...YOU BET! It absolutely rocked Kansas City.

The line-up alone was enough to blow a kid's Crocs off -- TMBG, Dan Zanes, Brady Rymer, Trout Fishing, Justin Roberts, Recess Monkey, Sugar Free All-Stars, and our local Kansas City musical family -- add in Crown Center's beautiful fest site, great weather, 25K smiling people, ecstatic children, smiling parents, some semi-healthy food choices, plenty of parking, and a place for kids to nap, and you've got the creation of the perfect musically-festive storm.

I'm still fumbling around in the fog of a pleasant post-jam coma. My muscles ache from dancing and hauling equipment. My spirit is swooning from all the good energy from the performers and the grateful families who stopped to say thanks. My voice is still raspy from singing and talking my throat off to everyone I saw. I must have effusively spewed "Thank you!" to a thousand people while smothering them with hugs.

We could not have pulled off this event without our dedicated board members and committee heads. And we had nearly 300 volunteers! They were checking tickets, hauling trash, dressing up like princesses, re-stocking water, and carrying strollers up and down the stairs.

Many thanks to all who made it happen and to all the families who supported this dream of ours. I met people from throughout the Midwest, and from New York, Pennsylvania, Georgia, Alabama, and California. I'm told folks traveled from about 15 different states. You all rock!

Let's do it again next year. In the meantime, I'm going to get a little rest.

Look out, Hannah Montana!

2009-05-18T12:51:00.012-05:00

The diva-producing storm has been brewing for months. If anyone has watched our groovy girl Lyda perform recently, you've seen a budding young drama queen upstage her old man regularly. She's now the star of the show! Not that I mind at all -- it takes some of the pressure off me. It's just one of those things that a father gets misty about as he watches his little girl grow up.

Early on there were a few stage-left exits after our duets when she would bawl and say, "They're laughing at me!" But once she figured out that the audience wasn't laughing AT her, but WITH her, she started to milk it.

Now she struts and preens and curtsies and rolls her eyes with such starlet confidence that you can't help but laugh. And we all know it's cute because she's four -- we also know there will come that devastating day when she realizes that it's not so cute. Thankfully we still have a few years.

You should have seen her in Hebron, Nebraska, last week! After the show she was swarmed by a mob of mostly middle-schoolers who wanted photos and autographs. On the way home she said breathlessly, "It was crazy. There were so many cameras, I didn't know which one to look at first."

Then reality bit. Our little shooting star experienced a heart-breaking and humbling descent this past week after we performed at a roller rink in Marshall, Missouri. No one asked her for an autograph! She was incredulous. And when one girl asked her to scoot out of a picture with me (Lyda's always beside me in photos), she said to me with welling tears, "Daddy, you're more popular than me now."

I didn't have the heart to tell her this: That's the way it goes in show-biz, darlin'. One minute they love you, the next minute you're a clod.

I'm grateful for the love when it flows and have become quite comfortable playing the clod.

Stickin' together

2009-05-10T22:02:00.004-05:00

Children are miracles. From their conception to their birth, through their development, to their insight and intuition. And the people who help them heal -- the docs, the nurses, the therapists -- perform miracles every day. If you don't see the hand of the creator in all of this, then you're just not looking.

A few days ago we visited the Via Christi Regional Medical Center in Wichita, Kansas. It's the very same place where Willa healed from her bonk on the head nearly two years ago and where Lyda came up with the song "Let's Stick Together."

I stopped in to visit with a girl on the PICU, a few doors down from where Willa spent four days hooked up to tubes and monitors. We sang and chatted and I was able to coax a smile from her even as she winced in pain. Then Jeni and the girls joined me in singing with some kids in the play room on the pediatric floor.

It was a tad bit emotional for us to be roaming those halls again, but mostly it was cathartic and uplifting. There is nothing like the smiles and giggles of kids who are healing to help put things in perspective.

The Children's Miracle Network arranged the visit and a show later that day at a nearby elementary. CMN was there for us when we thought we were all alone in a strange city. They became our family when ours were so far away. I did a benefit concert for CMN several years ago, but never imagined I would be on the receiving end of their generosity.

And the kids at OK Elementary raised the most money in the "Change is Good" promotion for CMN. They won a concert! It was the ultimate honor to be there. Thank you all for a great time and the privilege of paying it forward!

Peace...

No good children's music?? StinkFest 2009

2009-05-05T08:14:00.009-05:00

Please, I never want to hear anyone say -- ever again -- that there is no good children's music out there. I've heard it. I've seen it. And, occasionally, I produce some of it. (At least I'd like to think so.)

Jeni and I are just getting our legs back from a whirlwind trip to Brooklyn for StinkFest 2009. (What a perfect fest for an odoriferous guy like me.) I have lovingly referred to StinkFest (kindiefest from here on) as a gathering of the family music "mafia" -- that is the growing familia that is this beautifully diverse genre. They came from the west, from the east, from the south -- and we represented the heartland. We discussed athe business and swapped stories about gigs and shared leads about venues. And, man, the positive energy was jolting.

Despite what a few panelists said, there is not a "glut" of family music. An implied glut might scare off those who are just testing the waters and suggest that resources are scarce. I find the opposite to be true. There is plenty of work out there for all of us -- if you're willing to work it and play to small groups and if you're willing to share the love.

That's how we've created the scene we've got in Kansas City. We've made a conscious effort to create a real family where we share our success and where we don't always agree. And that's what we're on the brink of on a national level. The more we give away our knowledge, our leads, our "secrets" (there are really very few of those) -- then the more we work. And the more we all work the stronger we are as a whole. Audra said it best from the stage during her set, "Let's all be happy for each other's success."

No room here for disingenuous players. No reason for competition. And no excuse for anything less than doing what we do for the love of kids, the love of families, and the love of music. The success will naturally follow.

The love was flowing in Brooklyn. And if I took nothing else away, it is that this community will do great things when we stick together.

Mom, thank you for my birthday.

2009-04-27T21:57:00.008-05:00

Like most good Irish Catholic sons, I think my mother is a saint -- most of the time. She certainly has earned her spot in heaven. And not the least of her many miracles (of which she has often reminded me) is the story of how I came to be.

After two miscarriages and seven live births, her doctor advised her to STOP birthing babies. He said her body had been through enough and was wearing down to the point where she couldn't handle another pregnancy. He strongly recommended a hysterectomy. She strongly recommended that he have one instead.

My mother heard another voice, which had other plans. That voice came from the vicinity of her heart, and it told her that she wasn't finished multiplying. At age 37 she was pregnant with her eighth child in 12 years. That was me. And she was OK shrugging off the medical warnings, because, she says, she knew she had to bring me into the world.

A couple of weeks past her 38th birthday, while she and my dad were painting and papering the bathroom off their bedroom, she went into labor. Piece of cake for a woman with her track record. Boom, I came screaming into this world at 12:25 a.m. on April 27, 1965.

A few months later she was back in the hospital having that hysterectomy. There was no denying it now. Her body had gone above the call of duty. And she recounts how I would lay next to her in that hospital bed and coo and gurgle in her ear, as if I were telling her that everything was going to be fine. And she claims that's what got her through it.

Thank you, mom, for listening to your heart and not the doc.

Days 20 - 22: Home sweet...ZZZzzzzzz...

2009-04-26T22:15:00.005-05:00

Are you familiar with the term "smelling the barn"? As in, "The horse sprung into a gallop in the last quarter mile, as he was smelling the barn."

Well, we were smelling our humble shack in the final stretch. So much so that we pushed it from Columbus, Ohio, right on home. Nearly 11 hours that day. We had planned to see Cousins Bob and Grace and Mila in St. Louis, but Lyda hit the wall. She said, "Dad, I don't think I can take staying at another house. I'm tired of packing and unpacking. Can we just go home?"

I told her that would mean an extra 4 hours on the road. She sucked it up and was a champ. Willa was, too. They both started fussing about 50 miles outside of KC (actually we all started fussing by then), and they were fast asleep by the time we pulled into the driveway.

22 days; 3,249.7 miles; 10 states; 14 shows; countless hotel breakfasts; a handful of delightful home-cooked meals; and a visit to one chocolate factory.

Wow, what a long fabulous trip. As I get older, I think I get wiser about the hows and wheres and whats of a road trip, but they don't get any easier on my body.

Thank you to all who put us up and cooked us meals and gave us directions and bought me margaritas -- you have been a part of our success and will always be part of our wonderful memories from the road.

Day 18 & 19: Feels like home

2009-04-19T20:33:00.006-05:00

I'm not really sure this covers day 18 or 19 because I've lost track of how many days we've actually been on the road. All I know is that it's been many.

One of many upsides of performing in the same towns every year is that they become familiar; the people start to become like long-distance cousins; and the communities start to feel like home. We sure feel that way about Blacksburg, the gang at Gainesville United Methodist Church, and the great congregation at Progress Immanuel Presbyterian Church in Harrisburg.

Pastor Kent Carter, his wife Jan, and their kids Seth and Sarah, have become dear friends. We made s'mores at their house last night after a fabulous home-cooked meal. And we saw many familiar faces at the show this afternoon. Many thanks to those who made the indoor picnic a hit -- good food and very cool "feet" cookies custom made and iced by Marge. Oh yeah, and the preschool kids decorated the walls with awesome painted paper "tulips" that had feet as the flowering buds.

Being on the road can feel like home; you just have to make it that way. And as long as we're together with the girls, we've got home everywhere we go.

Peace...

Day: 15, 16, 17: Now, I'm a jazz ventriloquist

2009-04-19T11:52:00.013-05:00

"Mr. Stinky Feet is coming to Gainesville April 17"

That was the headline in the Bull Run (VA) Observer last week. Pretty typical for most small town newspapers where we play. However, the content of the story had some firsts for me.

My old buddy Danny Gogal, who helped organize the show, was attributed (not quoted) as giving the following info:

"Cosgrove, Gogal said, started out as a ventriloquist and was encouraged by his family to expand his repertoire." Presumably because I was really bad at throwing my voice.

Danny says he was misunderstood by the reporter. He was speaking to her via cell phone from the corner of a noisy Boy Scout meeting and he told her that I had started out as a "JOURNALIST," but apparently she heard "VENTRILOQUIST."

When asked about the direct quote in the article that read, "His music is upbeat and is fun for adults, too, because he does various styles like Jazz.", Danny just shrugged and said that was the only style of music he could think of at the time.

We all got a good laugh out of it. The article is going on my "wall of fame."

Another great benefit of a long road trip is visiting good friends and family. We couldn't do it without the home-cooked meals, social breaks, and free beds. Thank you to all who make it happen.

We camped out at Kate Kopischke's house in D.C. for more than a week and she didn't even get sick of us. We must be great house guests. We had dinner last Wednesday with the Muraski clan and their five boys. Lyda was in heaven with all of those cute guys (we've lost count of her new beaus). Then we stayed with Danny and Lisa Gogal and their six kids on Friday. Lyda said she felt like she was staying with the Brady Bunch!

A guy I hadn't seen since college showed up my Georgetown Hospital show -- he's a doc there. I had dinner with Bill Geimer and Bill Barloon -- old friends I don't see very often. And Amanda and Scott Carruthers helped us book some gigs and fed us and let me nap in their basement before Saturday's show. It's a great life!

Next stop, the capital of the Keystone State.

Day 13-14: Congressional Child Care

2009-04-15T09:00:00.009-05:00

Yesterday we rocked at the House of Representatives Child Care Center. Many thanks to Paige for setting it up. The teachers were into it as much as the kids. I think we saw some of our country's future leaders there.

On a tour of the Smithsonian Castle I lost my prescription glasses (right about when this photo was taken) which were eventually turned over to a security guard by another friendly tourist. Retrieving them from the Capitol Police lost and found was a great lesson in governmental obtuseness and glacial speed.

I asked a guard if they had been found and he asked me to describe the lost article. I did and he said, "I knew someone would come looking for them. I'll call downstairs and have someone come up."

After about ten minutes, a uniformed officer whom we'll call "Ms. Pokey McSlowerson" shuffled her way up to me and asked, "Are you the claimant?" Whatever, I'm the guy who lost my glasses.

"Can you describe them for me?" she asked suspiciously. Of course, and I did. "Come with me," she said.

Like she just couldn't shuffle those glasses up to me. Now, I had to shuffle with her down a long corridor in the "restricted" area, down a service elevator to the basement, to another uniformed guard behind a counter. She told the guy behind the counter that I was the "claimant" for the lost glasses. He then shuffled over to a bank of lockers and rummaged around for a couple of minutes until he produced something wrapped in a yellow piece of paper.

So, I got my glasses back, but not before I had to sign the six-copy form (that's a form in sextuplicate). The form documented the journey of the glasses from the good Samaritan (the "finder"), through the hands of three other Smithsonian officers, to me. Five people had to sign the form!! So, the Finder got the gold copy, I was gifted the yellow copy, white copy to the lost & found clerk, blue copy goes to supply officer, pink copy to GSA Representative, and green copy to Receiving Officer.

Finally, I was released back to my family.

National Library Week

2009-04-13T22:12:00.003-05:00

Hey, it's National Library Week. Celebrate by paying your fines and giving a big hug to your favorite librarian.

And consider sending them my two new and very cool songs that I wrote for the occasion. You can download them from my website for FREE!!

Just click HERE and visit my store. Enter the code "read" at checkout and get a link emailed to you for the free downloads.

Lyda calls all female library employees "Library Ann." So, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek, 80s power-ballad tribute to all Library Anns.

Read on!!

Days 10, 11, &12: Global Positioning, Museums, and Easter

2009-04-11T15:21:00.010-05:00

Ever since we received a GPS for Christmas two years ago, my orienteering skills have gotten soft. My father was a great lover of maps and passed on to me the respect for navigation. I've taken great pride in my ability to know where I am and how to get there from here. Now, I don't have to know where I am because I've got a gizmo to do my thinking. But look out for tunnels and cloudy days, because when it says "searching for satellites" you're out of luck.

Lyda has nicknamed the voice on our GPS "Gabby," because she talks so much. We've muted her for this trip. And we about threw Gabby out the window when instead of a bowling alley on a rainy day, she took us to a new subdivision in the DC suburbs that probably used to be a bowling alley. She's really only accurate about 30% of the time.

******

We waited in line for a half hour at the Smithsonian to see Dorothy's ruby slippers. Lyda's excitement quickly turned to disappointment as the main attraction was just a pair of shoes in a glass box. Same with Kermit the Frog -- he looks just like the stuffed Kermit we have at home.

Lyda was more interested in the dark little nooks at the natural history museum where they show out-of-focus videos about protozoa, or was it about rain cycles? I really couldn't tell, because they were so out of focus. I'd say, "Lyda check out this dinosaur skeleton!" And she'd say, "Let's go look at something in one of those dark rooms."

******

Why is it that we turn ever holiday and any event that is remotely kid-oriented into a SUGAR FEST?! Cranking kids full of sugar is not cool. I've told Jeni that I'm finished being an accessory to the madness. I mean I'm all for a good desert and some chocolate now and then, but who needs 30-some eggs full of candy?? At least one of the eggs had a dollar bill in it, and I slid some baby carrots into one -- which Lyda proceeded to eat first. (I'm so proud.)

On our way home at the end of the day, Lyda moaned from the back seat. "I think I had too much treats today. I don't feel so well."

Here's an idea for next Easter -- battered and deep-fried Peeps!

Day 9: Georgetown Hospital

2009-04-10T06:36:00.007-05:00

Spend a little time on the pediatric floor of any hospital, or in the pediatric intensive care unit and you'll get a refreshing jolt of what life is all about. It helps put things in perspective.

We had a delightful show in the auditorium at Georgetown University Hospital. Several of the pediatric patients were brought in, and kids from the hospital's preschool -- the Koalas -- were there.

A couple of these young patients had received intestine transplants (one of the specialties at GUH), the thought of which makes my own bowels churn. But despite the discomfort they may have been feeling and the fact that several of these kids have spent more time in hospitals in their short lives than at home, they smiled and giggled and sang along as if they weren't attached to IV poles.

After the show, I had the honor of visiting a young woman in her room because she couldn't make it down to the auditorium. She is 27-years-old and is physically and developmentally a young teenager. Her mom and dad had that deep look of love and slightly-weary-yet-fully-grateful smiles that parents of chronically ill children get. It's that look of, "I'd go to the ends of the earth for my child, but I've really about had it with these visits to the hospital." They were so appreciative to have a brief break of music and laughter.

These visits always bring me back to Willa's stay in ICU almost two years ago -- the origin of the song Let's Stick Together. Those nurses and docs who do this day after day are truly heroes. And the parents who never get a break are living saints.

Day 8: Move over!!

2009-04-09T06:34:00.003-05:00

Congratulations! Virginia wins the award for most drivers camping out in the passing lane on the interstate. Move over, already!

We've put in a few miles on the road all over this country and every year we come here and find people putzing along in the left lane with no clue that they're backing up traffic. With some gentle reminders -- a tap on the horn or flashing of lights -- they just wave as we pass on the right.

Other than that and the convoy of semis on I-81, the trip up the Shenandoah Valley is amazing. This is some of the most beautiful stretch of interstate in the U.S. -- along with the stretch of I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup in New Mexico.

We're in our nation's capitol today! Cherry blossoms here we come!

Day 6 & 7: Underpants country

2009-04-07T22:01:00.004-05:00

Man, this is beautiful country. We are in Southwest Virginia, nestled in the Roanoke Valley, at the southern end of the Shenandoah Valley, in the heart of the Appalachians. (And folks, that's pronounced Apple-at-chens -- short "a" and hard "ch", like "throwin' an apple at cha." not Apple-ay-shens. If you talk like that, they'll know you're a Yankee.) You can catch the Blue Ridge Parkway right down the road from where we're staying, or you can hop on the Appalachian Trail.

And like a lot of places around the country, they've had some freaky Spring weather here. It was 75 degrees on Sunday. Today, it was cold and gusty with snow flurries. But that didn't freeze the spirits of the kids at Snowville Elementary. They were full of great energy, and Sadie did a screamin'-great job singing "Bop Bop Dinosaur."

Performing "Bop Bop" in the south is always a kick because this is "underpants" country. The word "underwear" is an oddity. So it can be a bit of a challenge getting through the song without kids screaming "...dancin' in their underpants." Which doesn't at all rhyme with "polar bear," but it is still universally a giggle-maker.

And a big thank you to the folks at Anchor of Hope Presbyterian Church who sponsored the show at Max Meadows Elementary yesterday. The kids there were so polite and great with Lyda and Willa.

The members of Fieldstone United Methodist Church welcomed us again this year. We feel like we're at home there. Thanks to Mandi Martinez and Pastor Bryson Smith. We'll see you next year!

We're still livin' the dream!

Day 5: Palm Sunday at Tech

2009-04-06T18:22:00.010-05:00

We attended Palm Sunday Mass at the War Memorial Chapel on the campus of Virginia Tech, just a few hundred yards from another sobering memorial for the 32 students and faculty who were gunned down in their classrooms two years ago this month.

The emotional wounds from that massacre are still very fresh and raw in this town of 40,000, especially this time of year. And just as I did upon first seeing the Vietnam War Memorial in D.C. for the first time, I was overwhelmed by sadness and tears.

After reading the narrative of Christ's passion from Mark's gospel, which is customary on Palm Sunday, the priest started his fiery sermon by acknowledging the violence in Binghamton, New York, last week and how each of us has the capacity to be violent. He warned against lulling ourselves into believing that just because we are "good" or "law-abiding" or "church-going" we are somehow incapable of getting really nasty sometimes -- whether it's shouting at someone in traffic or feeling gleeful when someone else trips and falls. He likened himself and the rest of us to the folks in the readings. At the beginning, the people in Jerusalem are waving palms and shouting "Hosanna!!" to welcome Christ into town. But then a few days later they're shouting "Crucify him!" As soon as something or someone is perceived as a threat, we opt first for eliminating it rather than trying to understand it.

So now we are left with memorials for wars and massacres, not merely as a memory to those who fell or served, but as a stark reminder of our own darkness. Maybe some day we'll evolve beyond the need for memorials.

I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes from Thomas Merton:

"Instead of loving what you think is peace, love other people and love God above all. And instead of hating the people you think are warmakers, hate the appetites and disorder in your own soul, which are the causes of war. If you love peace, then hate injustice, hate tyranny, hate greed --but hate these things in yourself, not in another."

Day 4: Blacksburg and new boy friends

2009-04-05T14:21:00.006-05:00

Another day, another cool historic theater. This day it was the Lyric Theater in Blacksburg, Virginia, across the street from the campus of Virginia Tech. Since it opened here in 1930, the stage has been graced by some very cool acts.

Have I mentioned before how much we love Blacksburg? This is our fifth trip here in six years, and we always feel like we're at home.

The people here have been so cool to us, and John Borman, part of the theater's event staff, paid me one of the nicest compliments I've had in a long time. He said, "We've had some children's acts through here that were good, but you were great!"

It sounds like they'll have us back next year!

And Lyda has informed us that she has picked up some new boyfriends here. The other day she was up to 21 "beaus", but now she says she's lost track. Look out, daddy!!

Many thanks to Big Joe Trice and all those who made these shows possible.

Day 3 -- part 2: Poor Customer Service

2009-04-04T20:51:00.005-05:00

We travel a whole bunch. We stay in a lot of hotels. Occasionally we rent cars. And for years we have enthusiastically used Priceline to do it all. Until yesterday.

In this climate of bankruptcies, it's amazing to me that companies still don't understand that simple customer service can secure life-long, loyal patrons.

Inflexibility is unacceptable. But what I do accept is that people make mistakes, and I believe in giving opportunities to correct mistakes. As a business owner, I know this all to well. When I make a mistake, I am eager to correct it quickly to retain a customer. Seems simple, really -- and logical.

So, after nearly five years as an avid fan and loyal Priceline customer, I canceled my account. Five years of loyalty, and they have managed to lose my trust and my business in a matter of hours.

Hello, Hotwire!!

Day 3: Let it shine all over Pulaski

2009-04-04T08:17:00.008-05:00

In downtown Pulaski, Virginia, there's an old theater that's being renovated to it's glory by a group of dedicated volunteers. It's still a work-in-progress and it's shaping up to be a gem.

Nearly 200 people filled the lower level and proceeded to rock until the dry-wall dust was flyin'. Many thanks to Diane Brillheart for going above and beyond on the stage decorations -- one of the coolest stage sets we've ever had. Even Lyda contributed by huffing and puffing and blowing up her first balloon.

As a performer, it is such a rush to play in a cool old theater in a small town.
These old Vaudeville houses are loaded with stories and spirits from a great history of performing arts.

Rock on Pulaski!

Day 2: Almost Heaven

2009-04-02T22:10:00.005-05:00

Every time we drive through West Virginia, I'm blown away by how beautiful it is. This state has gotten a bad wrap. The girls loved it and befriended some bears.

No wonder all the Germans at Oktoberfest in Munich we're belting out the song Country Roads every half hour. (I had never imagined it as a drinking song until then.) This place looks like Germany with its striking green mountains and little hamlets nestled in its valleys. And as the interstate follows the Kanawha River out of Charelston, you'd think you were driving along the Rhine.

The only thing we could do without is all the coal. It's a double-edged sword, because coal has brought a whole lot of money to this state. But you see barges laden with coal chugging up the Ohio River. You see mounds of coal ready to be loaded onto more barges. You see mountain tops decapitated to uncover its black gold. Then they pave it and build a Walmart on top of it and say, "See, everything's cool. This is progress." Sad. I hope this chapter in our energy history is coming to an end.

Enough of that...

We're in Blacksburg, VA, now -- home of Virginia Tech. We totally love this town. Feels great to be back. And the girls have been angels on this 920-mile trek from home. We celebrated by bowling in the hall of our hotel tonight. I hope our neighbors didn't mind!

Day 1: Road Trip!!

2009-04-01T21:15:00.006-05:00

Like any good road trip -- no matter how long -- you start packing the night before. In our case this one will span 23 days and 10 states. Our schedule is lighter than last year's eastern swing -- we have only 14 shows. That means some days off to play.

We're finally getting the packing routine down. Unlike the first time Jeni and I hit the road with just one child and a van over-loaded with gear and a full cargo carrier on top, this time with two kids, I can actually see out the back window.

We pulled out of the drive at 10:23 a.m., nearly an hour behind "schedule" (as if it's possible to have a "schedule" when I'm outnumbered by estrogen and Libras), drove 400-some-odd miles, and now we're back in Kentuckiana (see earlier post) within spitting distance of "Possibility City".

(Geography digression: Did you know there's a town in Indiana called Santa Claus? Pretty cool.)

People often ask Jeni and I how we 1.) travel as a couple for such a long stretch and stay married, and 2.) how we travel with two young kids for three weeks on the road. The short answer is: We are livin' the dream and we love it (not to mention each other). The other answer is: Practice. This is what our girls know and expect, so it's no big deal.

We have to make it fun and practical and realistic and interesting all at once. Some tips:

Get a road trip theme song. Our theme song today, of course, was The Brady Bunch's Keep On (Cruisin' down the highway in a makeshift Model TA. Whoo!) And change it up, 'cause this is fun for about the first three spins, then it's auditory assault. The girls love their Bradys.

Engage with the kids. Don't just slap them in front of an endless loop of videos. Sing. Talk. Play games. Just like we did when we were kids. Read, for crying out loud! And we're not complete curmudgeons when it comes to video (we got one for Christmas last year and it's nice to have along.) We enthusiastically agree to one video per day. No more.

Pack some good food. And by "good", I mean "healthy." Personally, I think just because you're on a road trip is no excuse to jack kids full of sugary, salty, greasy snacks. Especially if you have them strapped to a seat for eight hours and expect them to be relaxed and happy and cooperative. It's down right abusive to fill them with junk and then pester them to "keep it down" or "sit still". I want to see you try to sit still after a bag full of Skittles. We're only minor sugar-Nazis. Snack time comes right after a good lunch and a nap.

Keep your same bedtime routine. It's not always easy, but 'nuff said.

More as it happens. Cheers!

Home of Sliced Bread

2009-03-21T08:47:00.018-05:00

Within a 50-mile span of Highway 36 that stretches across north-central Missouri, you can stop in on the boyhood homes of J.C. Penney in Hamilton, Gen. John J. Pershing (WWI) in Laclede, and Walt Disney in Marceline. And to top it all off you can pull over for a sandwich in Chillicothe, the "home of sliced bread." So much history in such a short distance.

Claiming to be the home of sliced bread is pretty bold, like declaring to be the birthplace of iced tea. But the citizens of Chillicothe have so brazenly seized this fame, that they have painted it on the side of a building on Main Street.

Here's what the town's website says about it:

"It was recently discovered that sliced bread was first offered for sale - ever - in Chillicothe, Missouri. A product of the Chillicothe Baking Company, it was sliced on a machine called the Rohwedder Bread Slicer. Invented by Iowa inventor, Otto Rohwedder, the bread slicer was put into practice in 1928 in beautiful downtown Chillicothe."

Also on our recent tour, we had the honor of performing at Walt Disney Elementary in Marceline. Right there in the front hall of the school is Walt's first grade desk enshrined in a glass case. Pretty cool. And you don't have to look too closely to see the big W.D. carved into the desktop. A daring prank for a first-grader. Walt must have been a bit of a rebel. I can just see present day first-graders trying to etch their name in history by carving up their desks just in case they become famous some day. If Walt did it, then...

That evening in Brookfield about 500 people showed up to rock the elementary school gym. And then the next night we performed in Laredo to an audience of about 70 -- pretty impressive for a town of 250. Thank you Parents As Teachers! You really know how to promote an event.

Chicken Fried Romance

2009-03-17T22:04:00.005-05:00

When the hostess at the hotel restaurant informed us that the "theme" of the evening's buffet was "Ozarkian", I admit that it didn't conjure up many delectable images, or even many edible ones.

"Would you like to see what we have?" she offered. Of course, I've gotta see this...

The first thing she unveiled was "chicken fried chicken." Those were her exact words.

Stop right there. Enough said. That's all this grease-averse vegetarian needed to hear. If someone has to qualify that fried chicken has been "chicken fried," that implies that there are going to be other similarly fried items down the line. Chicken fried steak. Chicken fried squirrel. Chicken fried possum tail. Chicken fried skunk fingers. Who knows? I wasn't the slightest bit curious to find out what "Ozarkian" fried things lurked behind doors #2 through 5.

I had the veggie pasta dish. Call me boring, but at least I knew what I was eating.

That was our brush with haute cuisine, as Jeni and I spent two informative days and a relaxing night at Tan-Tar-A Lodge at the Lake of the Ozarks in south-central Missouri. We were there for a gathering of the The Missouri Association of Elementary School Principals. The kids were at the grand in-laws, so we made it our "date weekend."

Nothing says "romantic dinner for two" like breaded and fried mystery substances.

Keepin' it real in Iowa

2009-03-14T21:50:00.008-05:00

I suppose every entertainer needs a humbling performance now and then -- just to keep us...well...humble. I had one today at Merle Hay Mall in Des Moines, Iowa.

A lovely crowd, a helpful and gracious host, a beautiful day, and I got there with plenty of time to set up. All the makings of a great show. But, from my standpoint, it was not a showcase event. Aside from my second-string guitar fritzing, batteries on guitar transmitter going out (amateur mistake), a daddy-weary voice, jangled nerves from the three-hour drive up there, and botched lyrics, it was, after all, the kids who made it truly wonderful.

Even on my off days, I have the best job in the world. The kids had fun; the parents were in to it, and all is well. And I learned (again) some lessons in preparedness.

I must say here -- for the record -- that I love Iowa. I've been performing there a couple of times a year for the past eight years and it's a refreshingly progressive state (much like Minnesota and Wisconsin) whose citizens seem to place importance on education and the arts as essential cultural pillars. And Jack Kerouac was on to something when he wrote in On the Road “... the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.”

(Des Moines trivia: Merle Hay was the first Iowan to die in action in WWI. He probably couldn't even comprehend the concept of a "mall." Now, he's got one named after him.)

Where in the world is Kentuckiana?

2009-03-08T13:05:00.007-05:00

When you arrive at the Louisville (KY) International Airport you'll be greeted by the voice of Mayor Jerry Abramson welcoming you to the 16th (or is it 14th?) largest city in the United States. Impressive. Who knew?

Whenever I hear statistics like that tossed around, my dormant journalistic ears perk up because I always want to know how accurate they are. When I heard the mayor of "Possibility City" (that's the town's nickname) toss out his claim, I immediately thought, "Really?! Is there a remote possibility that this is true?" And I think most people, including me, are willing to cut a guy like Mayor Abramson some slack, even if he's stretching the truth a little, or even using some slightly outdated statistics.

Folks, Jerry must be using some numbers from the Confederacy, because he's not even close. According to the US Census Bureau, Louisville-Jefferson County, KY, is the 26th largest city in the US, and the metro area (including southern Indiana) ranks 42nd. (For the record, the 14th through 16th largest cities are San Francisco, Columbus, and Austin.)

I've just returned from Kentuckiana -- that's what the local news stations have dubbed this verdant and burgeoning metroplex of the mid-south that is bisected by the Ohio River.

I spent nearly a week performing at the beautiful Ogle Center on the campus of Indiana University Southeast in New Albany, on the northern bank of the Ohio River. Each afternoon, as I'd head back to my hotel, I'd gaze across the water at the Louisville skyline pondering why on earth the mayor of a very cool, fully respectable city would simply make up stuff to impress visitors.

Mayor Jerry, you don't have to dupe us into being impressed by Louisville. You've got Churchill Downs -- home of the Kentucky Derby -- "the most exciting two minutes in sports." (I've been to the "run for the roses" and it's one of those awesome must-see-events-of-a-lifetime.) You've got Muhammad Ali and Pee Wee Reese. You've got the birthplace of the song "Happy Birthday to You." You've got the Louisville Slugger factory and museum -- every baseball fan has got to go on this tour! You've got the University of Louisville Cardinals who, as of today, are ranked sixth in NCAA men's basketball. And you've got a very cool minor league baseball stadium.

Dude, you've got a great city. Flaunt what you've got, and quit making stuff up.

Viva Las Vegas!

2009-03-01T13:25:00.009-06:00

Welcome to Binky Town! That's my new name for this "adult pacifier" capital of the world. They've got all the popular binkies -- alcohol, gambling, gluttonous buffets, tobacco, and "escorts." The past few times I've visited Las Vegas, I couldn't wait to get out of there. Other than the beautiful people I met and worked with, this visit was no different.

I was invited to deliver a key-note address at the Wynn Hotel for the national meeting of ARCOS -- The Association of Residency Coordinators in Orthopaedic Surgery (that's a mouthful). Other than experience with three knee surgeries, you may be wondering what a dude with stinky feet has to offer such a group. I spoke with them about the lessons I've learned from my work with kids, and how approaching everything in life in a childlike (not childish) way can lead to great success -- at home and at work. Kids have always had the key to living joyful lives by being present and full of wonder and astonishment. So, we laughed and sang some songs and all vowed to start thinking and acting more like children. Ahh, wouldn't we all be better off?

And, as for the city of Las Vegas, it could use a little injection of childlike energy -- something, anything, to offset the adolescent frenzy of it all. Lights, smoke, blaring music, t-shirt shops, billboards, silicone enhancements, gold chains, and the incessant clanging of bells -- enough already!! The sensory overload left my brain a bit jittery. I did get a lot of excercise, though. Gone are the days of crossing the strip like you used to. Now, to get across the street, you have to walk two blocks, go up an escalator, cross a bridge, down another escalator, and walk another two blocks to reach your destination.

What a relief it was to see the majesty of the Grand Canyon out the airplane window on the way home -- something naturally beautiful to bring me back to reality.

Daddy, come home.

2009-02-19T22:14:00.004-06:00

Tonight, all over this country and on US military bases abroad, tens-of-thousands of children will go to bed praying that their dads or moms (or, in some cases, both) will come home safely from serving in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

At Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, there is a very cool program at the elementary schools called "Hearts Apart" for kids whose parents are deployed abroad. Students get together a couple times a month to hang out and have some fun -- just to maybe take their minds somewhere else briefly and to let them know that they are not alone.

I had the honor of jammin' with about 70 of them yesterday afternoon. Thanks for a rockin' good time!

Please remember them and their parents in your prayers tonight.

Put Down the Binky

2009-02-11T21:54:00.008-06:00

Check out this piece of art! It was waiting for me outside the Capitol Plaza Hotel where I'm staying in Jefferson City, MO. Perfect for my binky song!

It's a giant pacifier sculpture made out of more than 30,000 cigarette butts and some wire. That's more than $6,000 worth of cigarettes (according to the placard). It's called "Adult Pacifier" and it's the creation of artist Christine A. Holtz and a dedicated team of student volunteers who scoured this town picking up discarded butts.

Holtz says she wanted to make a statement about the hazards of cigarette smoking, as well as the ecological damage caused by careless smokers. Many people think that the "cotton" filters on cigarettes are biodegradable. Not true. The filters are actually made of plastic fibers.

The pacifier sculpture will last about 15 years through weather because it takes approximately that long for a cigarette butt to decompose.

Many thanks to the great kids and teachers at St. George's Elementary in Linn, MO. I had a blast today.

Oh, and here's a photo of the Missouri state capitol.

Mary, Queen of Victory, pray for us!

2009-01-30T14:08:00.013-06:00

This is me in the 5th grade (1975).
Nice hair!

We just finished up Catholic Schools Week! And a saintly week it was. I kicked it off at St. Ann's in Prairie Village, then St. George had a snow day, so we rescheduled. We rocked the gym at Holy Cross in Overland Park, and finished with a rousing version of "This Little Light of Mine" at St. Regis in Kansas City.

This week brings me back to my roots, as I am a product of Catholic education. 17 years! It's true. Kindergarten through eighth grades at St. Peter's, Rockhurst High School, and Marquette University. (I suffered through one semester at University of Missouri - Columbia and, well, let's just say that going to school with 25,000 other kids wasn't for me. And I did my master's at University of New Mexico, so I have a little "public" in me.)

With the Catholic Education I got the guitar masses, uniforms, getting out of school to serve funerals, and nuns. We were taught by the Sister's of Mercy at St. Peter's -- which always cracks me up. Mercy, right? Like, they're supposed to live it and dispense it as Christ did. I swear my scalp is permanently tattooed (I can see it now that I'm balding) from where Sr. Jean used to tap the ball-point of her pen into my head. (Sr. Jean was an awesome English teacher and generally very cool, but that pen hurt.)

When I started kindergarten in the late 60's, the nuns all wore habits -- a couple of them in the full Blues-Brothers-Penguin garb, most in veils. By the time we graduated in the late 70's most of them had kicked the habit and transformed into groovy progressive nuns. Sr. Damien and St. Johanna were our principals, and both very cool. Sr. Colette was a sweet, old rebel-rouser -- always pulling a wagon full of food for the poor and rallying for some cause. Sr. Cecilia-Marie taught my sisters and subbed in my class a couple of times, which was enough to scare me. There was another nun who was about seven feet tall, but nobody seemed to know her real name. We just called her Sr. Jolly Green Giant. (We were so polite.)

If you forgot to bring your lunch to school (as I did often), you had to climb the stairs of humiliation up to the convent on the top floor of the school building, knock on the door, confess your forgetfulness to the aged sister-at-arms, and sit in penitential silence while she fixed you a PB&J. The deafening hum of the fluorescent lights and that sickening ever-present smell of gravy made the wait maddening. With a slight bow and a quick "Thank you, Sister." I'd split down the stairs, two at a time, back to the chaotic safety and comforting sour-milk-smell of the cafeteria.

There are a lot of glorious mysteries about elementary school that still linger. One mystery was the unusual ritual before the start of each basketball game -- our team would huddle together, put a hand in a pile in the middle, get a pep-talk from the coach, and then finish with a rousing and manly "Mary, Queen of Victory, pray for us!" What was up with that? And who started that tradition? As if Mary was taking sides between St. Elizabeth and St. Peter. Or, as if Mary had ever even played basketball.

People write whole books about their Catholic School experiences, as could I. Show me one public school kid who can match our tales.

Our Inaugural Ball

2009-01-21T21:17:00.010-06:00

Calhoun, Missouri. Population: 491. Home of the annual Colt Show (I misread the sign on the way in and thought it said "99th Annual Cult Show," and was on the lookout for witches.) Salute!!

So let's go ahead and round up that population to 500. Last night about 100 people turned out for the show in the school gym. That means one-fifth of the Calhoun citizenry was rockin' in the bleachers! A pretty respectable showing for a Tuesday night, especially when most of the nation was still recovering from their giddy Obama-palooza "hangover." (Jeni and I were still reeling!)

I must say that not one of the Calhounians appeared to have been sipping the Obama Kool-Aid or to be significantly moved by the inauguration of our 44th president. Maybe they were just more excited that Mr. Stinky Feet was in town. Or, maybe it was the free pre-show spaghetti dinner that lured them in and intoxicated them.

Whatever it was, we had a ball. And the crowd was into it. Even the middle-schoolers were gracious enough to: (a) not heckle me, and (b) actually willingly participate and have fun. Goes to show you how a good tight-knit community can raise some great kids.

Thank you, Calhoun!

Dr. King: In the name of Love

2009-01-19T09:34:00.006-06:00

Like many of the great social, political, and spiritual luminaries throughout history, Martin Luther King, Jr., showed us the way. And he shouted the secret from the mountain top. We just haven't been listening too well.

Here is some of his wisdom...

"A nation or civilization that continues to produce soft-minded men purchases its own spiritual death on the installment plan."

I pray that now we are moving out of the age of soft-mindedness.

"A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual doom."

I pray that one day we get that a healthy and educated citizenry is our best defense, offense, and specialty team.

"Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity."

I pray, too, that we are beyond the era of sincere ignorance. Look where that sincerity has led us.

But, then Dr. King also warns us of a dangerous trap...this one is so hard for me...

"Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness."

Sometimes it feels so good to "stick it to the man," but in the end I know it never pays to get resentful and point fingers.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that...I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear."

And finally, like all good teachers, he throws it all back in our laps...

"Life's most persistent and urgent question is, 'What are you doing for others?'"

What have we done lately??

Carol Brady: Queen of mod mamas.

2009-01-11T22:05:00.026-06:00

So, Jeni had an idea to introduce Lyda to some wholesome retro TV shows.

It started with some YouTube clips from the Brady Bunch. The "Silver Platters" episode. The Peter's-voice-change episode. Mostly clips of the kids singing. Innocent enough. Then, it turns out that Jeni has the Brady Bunch album from when she was a kid. Instantly our living room was transformed into a theater where Lyda and Willa still dance around and lip-synch to hits like Sunshine Day and Time to Change. Auditory assault, but very cute.

The next week Lyda announces to us and to her daycare buddies that her "new" favorite singing group is the Brady Bunch. She was met with blank stares from her friends. Poor kid. I had that parental wave of dread when you first realize that your child could possibly -- just possibly -- be...well... a smidge nerdy. But hey, I'll gladly take the nerdy Brady clan over Hannah Montana any day.

Thankfully (or so I thought), we hit a mini jackpot. The library has a couple of seasons worth of The Brady Bunch on DVD. Of course Lyda is hooked. She so wants to be Cindy, and thinks Bobby is the funniest kid ever. She even dreams about being one of the Bradys.

Now this cute passing fancy has turned into obsession. I knew we were on a slippery slope when Lyda asked, "When do I get to meet the Brady Bunch?" This is not an unreasonable request coming from a girl who has met all her favorite sports mascots and many of her musical heroes and hung out backstage with the Hiccups;).

We tried to explain to Lyda as gently as possible that Cindy is now pushing 50 and probably looks a little different. That didn't seem to compute in her four-year-old brain, or maybe she just didn't care. She pressed on, "OK, but when can I meet them?"

Then her eyes grew wide and she blurted, "I know!! Maybe you can get them to play at Jiggle Jam!"

By now Lyda understands that the Brady Bunch is just a TV family from the past -- actors playing roles and now those actors are older than her dad. Or dead, as in Robert Reed's case (who passed in 1992). He's even included in bedtime prayers when she talks about the angels in heaven who are looking after her -- Aunt Stephanie, Grandpa Bill, and Mike Brady.

But here's something that Jeni's "Brady Bunch venture" didn't portend. Out of nowhere Lyda says to Jeni, "Mom, let's go shopping for some clothes and you can buy some skirts." Fair enough. So they go shopping and Jeni tries on a skirt and Lyda says to her, "It looks great! Can you wear that when you pick me up from school?"

By this point in the journey, Jeni is starting to get a complex. Is she not living up to the standard of the other moms? But what can we expect from a kid whose parents work from home in their pajamas (or sweat pants and faded t-shirts)?

So, last night comes the kicker. As I'm helping Lyda into bed she said, "Dad, when I grow up to be a mom, I'm going to wear skirts and dresses and lots of cool jewelry and high heel shoes."

"Around the house?" I ask.

"Well, mostly when I go out, but, yes, around the house. I'm going to have lots of clothes and lots of shoes just like..." you guessed it... "Carol Brady."

Poor Jeni. One-upped by the queen of mod. How can women compete with a mom like her? As if the bar isn't set high enough already.

So do you think we should introduce Lyda to fellow super-moms Jane Jetson, Marion Cunningham, Shirley Partridge, and June Cleaver? Or, should we just contain the damage and stop at Carol Brady?

'08 was great -- '09 is lookin' fine!

2009-01-01T11:59:00.009-06:00

OK, so you may have lost some money or your job or your home or your faith in humanity in the economic freak-out this year, but even with all that, 2008 was a pretty remarkable year for some historically obvious reasons. I will focus on the not-so-obvious.

My eternal gratitude goes to all the people who booked me for a show and hosted us and made us dinner and gave us a place to rest. Many thanks to my lovely bride Jeni for her patience and awesome ability to book the shows. And I couldn't do any of this without the support of my big brother Dan -- everyone needs someone to look out for their best interests as he does mine.

Here is an incomplete list of some of my favorite moments and favorite discoveries from last year. First the numbers...

222 -- Number of shows in 2008

17,707 -- Number of miles on tour in 2008

48,600 -- Estimated number of audience members in 2008

Favorite career news: I have officially wangled out of my contract with Warner Brothers and am an independent artist again. Free at last, free at last!

Favorite news from a friend: My friend Annie gave birth at age 43 to her first child, Timmy. (This one just squeaked in under the wire, as he was born yesterday -- 12/31/08.)

Favorite new town we visited on tour: Tallahassee, FL. Aside from not recognizing an otherwise non-descript office building as the state capital, we were impressed with Tally! And the local paper ran a nice spread plugging the shows.

Favorite hotel: The Tulsa Doubletree. We slept on an inflatable bed in a meeting suite the size of our house! Great for hide & seek. An overbooked hotel worked in our favor.

Favorite gig: We played to about 3,000 people at Jiggle Jam -- the best family music festival in the country! Be there -- Memorial Day weekend in KC!

Favorite professional moment: Playing on stage at Jiggle Jam with my musical mentors John McCutcheon, Tom Chapin, and Trout Fishing in America.

Favorite interaction with an animal: At the Florida Aquarium in Tampa, we met a penguin up close, and it pecked at Lyda's shoe stings.

Favorite parent moment: (three-way tie) Watching Willa and Lyda hug and kiss; hearing Lyda read a book; and witnessing the sheer ecstasy on Lyda's face when she saw her favorite characters parading down main street at Disney World. (See entry on Disney World for Lyda's Disney recommendations.)

Favorite pic: Lyda in the cockpit of a 737-300 on our trip to Seattle. "May I see the plane's steering wheel?" she asked the friendly pilot. Ask and you shall receive.

Favorite free activity in Kansas City: The Lakeside Nature Center in Swope Park. Eagles, snakes, fish, and a snapping turtle the size of a snow tire.

Favorite new kids music: Brady Rymer and The Little Band That Could (self-titled album, nominated for a Grammy); Trout Fishing in America (Big Round World, nominated for a Grammy); Funky Mama's Moo Juice; oh yeah, and my new CD Upside Down (nearly nominated for a Grammy).

Favorite new adult music: Huh? There is new adult music. If it didn't come out before 2004 (the year Lyda was born), chances are I haven't heard it.

Favorite new venue that we played: The C.L. Hoover Opera House in Junction City, KS. They call it the "Jewel on the Prairie," and it is spectacular. Beautiful renovations and great sound. For you army folks getting transferred to Ft. Riley, fear not, Junction City is a cool little town with fun things to do.

Favorite library venue: (tie) The new Truman Forum at the Kansas City Plaza library is gorgeous (although the sounds issues need to be ironed out) and was host to 400 or so for my 10th anniversary concert. Thank you, April (who should get some sort of librarian award!). And every library should be so blessed as to have a space like Connor's Cove Children's Theater at Tulsa's Hardesty Regional Library. It's got a playful nautical theme and is perfectly appointed to be kid-friendly.

Favorite Lyda line: Looking sad and dejected one day, she said, "It's been such a long time since I've been to The White House. I think we need to go back."

Favorite Willa word: "Hoo-Hoo," which means peanut butter and jelly. Acquired from my peanut butter song.

Favorite chain restaurant on the road: Macaroni Grill. "The people are really nice here and the food is very good," says finicky food critic Lyda. You get to pick your own vegetarian pasta creation. And in some cities their house Chianti is discounted on Tuesdays. Wahoo! Everyone is happy.

Favorite new toy: Dowsing rods. Yes, the kind that people use in old frontier movies to find water and gold. Very cool, and they really work.

Forecast for 2009:

Tours planned for southern and northern Virginia, Pennsylvania, New Mexico, Kansas, Missouri, Iowa, Oklahoma, southern Indiana, Twin Cities, and points in between. Let us know if you want us to come to your town. Contact us.
The KC Jiggle Jam is set for Memorial Day weekend May 23-24. Check out the developments as they happen at Jiggle Jam. Dan Zanes & Friends will be here!
Great prosperity for all!
More reading!

"Peace out" in the New Year!

2008-12-31T20:29:00.008-06:00

Why is it that I always think of peace this time of year? Maybe it's the turning of the calendar. Maybe it's the sappy, sentimental songs that romanticize change. Or maybe it's because I really enjoy change, and I happen to think the biggest change we can affect is peace.

Whatever the reason, this arbitrary, self-imposed turning-of-the-clock has afforded us time to "start anew." And every time I wipe the slate clean I think, "OK, maybe now I can start being less judgmental and start living as an instrument of peace in my family, on my street, in my town, in the world, as a representative of the human race. Maybe now we can learn how to love and forget how to hate." (Help me, I'm quoting Ozzy!)

World peace! That's a tall order. Yet, it can be won -- step by step. And it starts with one simple word and one simple act -- Love. All the great world religions espouse it. All the great spiritual leaders teach it. Christ, Buddha, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, the mystics, the saints -- they all lived it. So, what don't we get about it?

It's the loving of people that matters most, not merely loving the idea of peace. Thomas Merton, the monk and poet, said it so simply:

"Instead of loving what you think is peace,
Love other women and men and love God above all else.
Instead of hating all the people you think are warmongers,
Hate the appetites and disorders in your own soul which are the causes of war."

May you sing peace. May you dance peace. May you be peace in this new year. Now, go out and love on somebody.

Angels shop at Target

2008-12-21T00:15:00.004-06:00

Lyda told me an amazing story tonight about how when she was an angel in heaven, she picked Jeni and me to be her parents.

Lyda went shopping one day at the heavenly Target. It was August 13^th. She remembers the date because it "felt like August, and it smelled like August. And, well, it really tasted like August."

She found Jeni on the "girl" shelf and me on the "boy" shelf. She picked me first, she said, because she loves me as big as the world. And Jeni and I were kind of like statues, just "heads and shirts."

"You had on a blue shirt and mom had on a purple shirt." (Naturally – our favorite colors.)

Then Lyda went shopping for the rest of our body parts.

"I picked out your bones, and your arms, and legs, and hair, and paint to color your eyes, and some peach-colored stretchy, flopppy stuff for your skin. I even picked out your toes," she said proudly.

"How come you didn’t get me some more hair?" I interrupted.

"Well, sorry," she said, "we were kind of in a hurry and we were really hungry. It was about 5:30 and we had to get back to God’s house to get something to eat."

"What did God serve for dinner?"

"Noodles, of course. We had noodles pretty much every night."

"Did you ever get sick of eating noodles every night?"

"No! God had lots of Parmesan cheese and parsley. And we had milk, but that’s about it."

"You said 'we.' Who else was with you?" I asked.

"There were other angels with me to help me pick you out. Your dad helped me pick you out," she said. "He was the only boy helping me. But, there were about 12 girl angels who helped me pick out mom."

"My dad helped you pick me out?" I asked. "That must have been a long time ago."

"Oh yeah, it was before you and mom were babies. Because you’ve got to start as babies, you know. We took all the parts over to God’s house and he put you together. I helped him a little, maybe this much," she said, holding her thumb and index fingers about an inch apart. "And then God put you in your mommy’s tummy and he put mom in her mommy’s tummy. And then I helped God get you and mom together, but that took a long time."

A long time, indeed, but it seems like we’ve always been together. Now I know why it "seems" that way, because we have been together -- always.

I must say I am comforted knowing that someone as wise and loving as Lyda helped put me together and helped Jeni and me find each other. How cool that she picked us! No need to worry about anything, because it's all part of the master plan.

I can breathe in a small town.

2008-12-12T21:38:00.002-06:00

Our loyal fans in Moberly, Missouri, are part of the reason The Hiccups and I love playing in small towns. Of the 14,000 people (26,000 metro) who live in Moberly, about 400 of them came out for the show last Friday night. Pretty impressive, considering that about 100 turned up at our last show in Denver (Pop: 588,349 and 2.4 million metro).

Thank you Moberly! And thanks to the good folks with Parents as Teachers whose hard work is to remind us that we are the best teachers in the world! And a shout-out to the very loud student body at North Park Elementary! Salute!

With the hospitable good will of small towns, comes the challenge of finding a vegetarian meal. There is usually a Subway sandwich or a BK veggie burger or a Taco Bell bean burrito to fall back on, but we can only ingest so much of that stuff. Vegetarians like variety, too.

So, typically while in Moberly we visit Rick's Americana Grill for some veggie pasta or grilled fish (Jeni and I both eat fish for various reasons I’ll explain some other time). Because it’s one of the few full-service restaurants in town, it usually takes a bit longer than we have for a pre-show meal. We branched out and tried the Santa Fe Mexican Restaurant this time and we were pleased. What do we eat at Mexican restaurants? Lots of beans (that is, those not prepared with lard) and Jeni goes for the chile rellenos. Great service, good prices, and hearty beans and rice. Our waiter was from Mexico City and the guy who cashed us out was from Playa del Carmen. When asked how they managed to end up in Moberly, they both answered, "The job."

Since Moberly is called "The Magic City," it sure would be nice if we could -- POOF!!-- hocus-pocus ourselves a good vegetarian meal sometime. We'll wave our wands on the next go round.

Kid's Grammy nods are in!

2008-12-10T10:16:00.014-06:00

OK, so I’m a bit late in acknowledging the Grammy nominations for the Best Musical Album for Children for 2008. There are some fabulous entries this year. And although my Upside Down album was on the ballot, it didn’t make it. So it goes.

First of all, I’m thrilled that there were no puppets or cartoon characters nominated this year – only humans. That’s progress. And only one big label nomination!

The nominees are:

Beethoven’s Wig for “Beethoven’s Wig 4: Dance Along Symphonies.”

Brady Rymer and The Little Band That Could for "Here Come Brady Rymer and The Little Band That Could."

They Might be Giants for “Here Come the 123s.”

Trout Fishing in America for “Big Round World.”

Gerard Schwarz conducting the Seattle Symphony for “The Shoe Bird.”

Without going into great depth, here are my two cents…

Beethoven’s Wig 4: Dance Along Symphonies: About the cleverest lyrics you’re going to find anywhere, paired with, well, some of the best classical music ever written. It’s a great shtick and well-executed. The compositions have great adult appeal because of the classical connection, and we get the overall wittiness. However, most of that is lost on the kids, and, at least in our van, it becomes tiresome pretty quickly for their young ears. Give them a couple of years and they’ll dig it.

Here come Brady Rymer and The Little band That Could: Hands down one of the best albums of the year (duh, it got nominated) in our house. Excellent song writing and bright compositions make for a winning combo. Even after about 86 spins in our player, this upbeat music never grows tiring for the adults or the kids. Brady’s got a pleasing earthy voice that reminds me of Arlo Guthrie on a good day. (I’m not sure if that’s translates well). All around an awesome entry!

Here Come the 123s: It’s zany and kooky – what more could we expect from the Giants? They were in Kansas City this year for the Jiggle Jam and they rocked the place. Great musicianship and funky lyrics are perfect for kids who are used to that kind of stuff from 80's-influenced parents. I like the quirkiness of it, but a little goes a long way. And some of it is just plain weird. We all know weird sells.

Big Round World: We love Trout in our house! And you won’t find two nicer dudes (other than me) in kid’s music. The consensus here is that it's a hit, even though it's not our favorite TFA album -- yet. Keith and Ezra are stellar musicians and seasoned song-writers who rarely, if ever, miss. And there are some songs on here that came from their student song writing workshops. An all-around fun album that gets plenty of air time on our road trips.

The Shoe Bird: This is a gorgeous reading of Eudora Welty’s fanciful children’s story about how a flock of bird buddies went from winging about to walking about – in shoes! It’s artfully narrated by Jim Dale who does the Harry Potter audio books and backed by the Seattle Symphony and a stellar children’s chorus. Whereas this is a beautiful piece of art, it really belongs in the Spoken Word category and not the Musical Album category, but, hey, I’m not on the selection committee. Great for kids who dig great storytelling.

So, for me and my girls, it’s a toss between Brady Rymer and Trout Fishing – both of whom will be at Jiggle Jam 2009 over Memorial Day weekend!

Brady and his crew, being the newcomers, might not be given much benefit, thus giving an edge to the seasoned Trout duo who have been generating clever, fun music for families for more than 30 years. I’ve never been too lucky on selecting winning horses, so I’ll leave it at that. Either way, we win!!

Heavenly Challah

2008-12-02T09:14:00.005-06:00

Every week Ray bakes bread in the kitchen of Congregation Beth Shalom in Overland Park, Kansas. He bakes lots of bread. Forty-eight loves this week – 64 last week. And it’s not just any bread. It’s “heavenly challah” sent to him as a gift by his lovely departed wife Frieda – in a literal and spiritual sort of way.

“For fifty years I was married to the most wonderful woman in the world,” says the 85-year-old Ray with a glint in his eye. “Every Friday she would make fresh challah for our evening meal, and every week the kids would tell her, ‘Mom, this is the best challah you’ve ever made.’ This went on for 30 or 40 years.”

Twelve years ago Frieda passed away and left Ray broken-hearted. He shuffled around for the next several months grieving and feeling sorry for himself, until the day he decided to do something about it. He looked around and spotted her recipe box in the kitchen.

“I wondered if there was something in there that I could make that would help me feel close to her,” says Ray. “I came across her challah recipe and thought, ‘This is it.’”

He knew how to cook, but had never baked anything, not even a box cake. He went to the store, gathered all the ingredients, and gave it a go. The bread turned out perfectly.

“So, I started to bake. And I felt like she was right there helping me.”

Ray was active in his synagogue in St. Louis where the challah was delivered each week at increasingly exorbitant prices. He volunteered to start baking it for the congregation. The bread was a hit and people started asking him to bake bread for their families. A woman in the congregation offered to buy a commercial mixer, and Ray increased his output.

Fortunately for the folks at Beth Shalom, Ray moved to Overland Park earlier this year. And now he dons his oven mitts every week and embarks on his volunteer labor of love. The challah is used in services every week and is sold as a fund raiser for the congregation preschool.

“If it weren’t for this bread, I’d be a tottering old man,” he laughs as he leans over and pulls another four loves out of the oven.

After it cools, the bread is sealed in bags and labeled with a sticker that proudly reads, “Frieda’s Heavenly Challah”.

And it tastes like heaven. I got a warm sample right out of the oven, and I brought a loaf home for lunch. Between Jeni and me, we ate more than half of it. If you’re in the neighborhood, drop by and buy some for yourself. Ray will thank you and Frieda will bless you.

Footnote: Many thanks to Judy Jacks Berman (the groovin’ director) and the awesome staff and rockin’ kids at Beth Shalom's Rose Family Early Childhood Education Center. It’s always an honor and a treat performing there.

An antidote for a crazy world.

2008-12-01T15:22:00.006-06:00

I'm sorry, but I just have to take a moment to digress from the generally easy-breeziness of this page and pause...

Like many of you, I found last week's news disturbing and infuriating. The insanity of hatred staining the beauty of life in Mumbai and Congo, and the gluttony of our consumer culture scraping new lows on the blackest of Fridays has left me profoundly sad.

But even amid the sadness there is hope and good news -- if we let it in. We can triumph over hatred and evil. All it takes are overwhelming acts of love and good will. I think we've got it in us...

One of my musical idols Pete Seger has a banjo inscribed with his motto, "This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender." I love that. It's simple and doable. For those who roll their eyes and think this pollyannish, I challenge the effectiveness of smart bombs and preemptive strikes to the overwhelming power of truth and nonviolence. Even though they're dead, I'll stand on the side of King, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Jesus any day, rather than with the saber-rattling ideological hawks of any era.

"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it." Martin Luther King, Jr.

And I find sad and twisted irony in Friday's tragedy on Long Island. A truly bleak and ugly picture of our collective selves squeezing and clawing our way through the doors of a mega-box store, for what? A $9 Incredible Hulk DVD? I can't imagine pitching a fit if a guard asked me to leave because someone lost his life in the mayhem. I can't help but hurt for that man's family and send nonstop prayers. A dark day, indeed. And it happened at Wal Mart. Need I say more?

There was something far more positive and compelling observed last Friday -- National Listening Day. And Lyda participated. It was a very cool and meaningful new tradition. Instead of shopping, we practiced our interviewing skills and then sat down with Grandma Bobbie and Grandpa Joe to ask questions and listen.

Lyda started with the basic "favorite color" and "hobbies" questions, which opened the door for stories from her grandparents' childhoods. The sessions were brief, yet at times laborious due to her copious note-taking, letter-by-letter (How do you spell blue?). It was beautiful and a peaceful respite from the news of the day.

Read more. Play more. And listen more.

Thanks, thanks, and more thanks on this "Save the turkeys" Day.

2008-11-27T22:26:00.005-06:00

Gratitude is really at the heart of how we attempt to live every day in our house. Some days we're better at it than others. Today I'm thankful. I'm thankful for a God and a universe that embraces dreams and sends angels to whisper lyrics of encouragement into my sometimes clueless and sometimes stubborn heart.

I'm thankful for you and all those who support us in our mission to bring smiles and fun music to families. And I'm so very grateful that my fans have made it possible for my family to do what we do -- to leave the starch-collared cubicles of corporate America and follow my dreams.

I'm grateful for my beautiful and supportive bride/agent/partner/manager Jeni and her sometimes wacky vision of life, and for our very groovy girls who I can't seem to hug and hold enough.

I'm thankful for my brother Dan who has supported my dream from day one and has selflessly given countless hours of tedious number-crunching, form-filling, phone calls, and trips to the post office for little or no pay. He's waiting for a sizable treasure chest off the ship that's about to come in.

I'm in constant gratitude for my family and close friends who buy CDs and share them with others. And for our close family of children's musicians right here in Kansas City -- Funky Mama; Dino; Doo Dad Mike and Matt and Ken and Joe; Bongo Barry; Dean; and Mark. I'm thankful for our mentors out there like Keith and Ezra from Trout, John McCutcheon, and Cathy Fink.

I thank God for painted toe nails from my daughter Lyda, reading princess stories first thing in the morning, bananas, fresh-baked cookies, a new president, steamed veggies, soy cheese that actually melts and tastes good, store clerks who make eye-contact, our Jetta which runs on vegetable oil (our car is vegetarian, too!), The Gaf (where I get my grease), the curry dishes at The Thai Place, people who understand why someone wouldn't want to eat meat and are OK with it, Tim who gave one of his kidneys to his good friend John a few months ago (reminding us all what it really means to be a friend), Father Matt and his passion for the truth of Christ's message of love even when it's uncomfortable, diapers to change, leaves to rake, clothes to wash, dishes to dry, and beds to make.

I'm overjoyed with health and wealth and love and joy and laughter and a song in my heart.

For what and/or whom are you thankful?

Thank you, Topeka and Ichabods!

2008-11-23T21:30:00.006-06:00

Every time I think of Topeka, Kansas, the first thing that should come to mind is that it's the birth place of my beautiful bride. Sorry Jeni, but that's not the first thing. And it's not Brown vs. The Board of Education. And it's not the state capitol connection. The first thing that comes to my mind is that scene from Almost Famous where the band Stillwater has just finished a show in Topeka and a "band aide" invites the boys back to a house party where the lead singer Russell Hammond commences to get trippy, then stands on the roof poised to belly-flop into the swimming pool.

For better or for worse that's what I get.

Yesterday on the campus of Washburn University (home of the mighty Ichabods!) the kids of Topeka rocked out. We had two high-energy sold out Christmas shows thanks to the good work of the volunteers at Topeka Performing Arts for Children. More than 400 at each show (shhh--don't tell the fire marshal). And not one person invited the Hiccups and me back to their house for a pool party. OK, maybe it was a bit chilly for that. But we did get some slammin' vittles.

A big hearty MUCHOS GRACIAS to Tracy and Paul Wagner for fixing a scrumptious spread -- a veritable smorgasbord -- for lunch. We chowed so heavily between shows that I was a bit sluggish by the start of the second. Looking forward to more great meals in Topeka. Thanks, too, to our handy stage hands Brenda and Andy for taking care of us.

And we just found out that the Topeka library has booked three (3) shows for next summer. We had close to 1,000 people in two shows this past summer and they had to turn people away. Can't wait to see you all then.

Cheers...

Happy Birthday Mickey! Our Disney greatest hits...

2008-11-20T11:42:00.009-06:00

Mickey turned 80 this week! In honor of our favorite Mouse and for everything plush, plastic, and princess he has become, four-year-old Lyda offers you her overall advice and favorite picks from Disney World.

If squeals are an indicator of happiness and approval, then our squeal-meter was off-the-charts ecstatic. The past few weeks I’ve heard almost daily, “I miss Disney World.” And, “How old do you have to be to work there?”

Lyda’s Picks...

Overall approval phrase: “Let’s ride that again.”

Overall criticism: “That was waaaayyyy too short.”

Favorite Ride: Carousel of Progress. (OK, not what most four-year-olds would go for, but Lyda’s not typical – she’s an old soul.) This doesn’t really even classify as a “ride.” It’s more of a "grandma" attraction. Not many pre-schoolers (or forty-something dads) would have the patience for it. Once through was interesting (and enough) for me. Lyda went twice.

Favorite Character Autograph: Stepsisters and Stepmother from Cinderella!! (Lyda practiced how she was going to confront the characters about how mean they are to Cinderella. The actors were a hoot! Great interaction.)

Favorite non-rides: Story time with Alice (one of the best characters on the property! Book through AAA travel). Story time with Belle in the Fairytale Garden (interactive and engaging). The "Dreams Come True Parade" is way cool -- all the characters in one place.

Other Favorites:

Character Meals: Splurge for at least one of these. The thrill is worth it.

Character Autographs: Buck up for an autograph book – a souvenir for life.

The live performances at Hollywood Studios: (Ariel & Beauty in the Beast) Short and amazing production quality. Great for kids who dig live theater and cool costumes and good music.

Thumbs way up: The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Peter Pan’s Flight, Haunted Mansion, Mad Tea Party (brief ride, long line), Magic Carpets of Aladdin, Toy Story Ride (Hollywood Studios), Beauty and the Beast Show (Hollywood Studios), Ariel’s show (Hollywood Studios); Figment ride (Epcot), Buzz Lightyear’s Spin (except Lyda’s gun didn’t work one of the two times we rode it),

Shoulder Shrug: Tomorrowland Transit Authority, It’s a Small World, Astro Orbiter, Pirates of the Caribbean (she’s a girl).

Thumbs down: Finding Nemo ride (Epcot) (I agree with Lyda. Hands down the lamest ride in the whole place. Cool graphics, but that’s about it. Fortunately there was no line, and it still took us about four minutes to walk through the labyrinthine waiting area), Dumbo ride (actually was OK with the ride, but said, “That was waaaaayyy too short.” According to Disney’s website, it lasts only a minute and a half. Not much when you wait in line for a half hour!)

Please post your favorites and not so favorites!

Livin' on Tulsa Time

2008-11-15T22:05:00.006-06:00

Tulsa rocks! We just returned home from two fantastic shows at Connor's Cove Children's Theater at the Hardesty Regional Library -- it's part of Tulsa Public. An amazingly beautiful theater. Truly one of the coolest venues I've played in a long time. I hope you Tulsa folks know how fortunate you are. We'll be back there in February. See you then!
Also, we had another interesting experience in using Priceline (subject for a future post). We arrived at the Double Tree where we had secured a $59 room, only to find that they had us in a "smoking king." Unacceptable for us asthmatic singer types. So, it helps to have a cute 18-month-old in your arms when you're talking to the manager about how to fit us in when the hotel is sold out.

My thanks to the Doubletree staff for accommodating us, even when they didn't have to. The very understanding manager put is in a "party suite" on the executive level that was humongous -- big enough to have a serious game of hide-and-seek. It had a fold-out couch, a beautiful 12-foot long wood dining table, bar, sitting area, but no bed. So, they brought in a queen "aero bed" that was comfy, and they gave us coupons for free breakfast in the restaurant. Not bad.

Let me know if anybody else uses Priceline regularly. And do the desk clerks treat you differently than if you were a full-paying guest?

The wonderful world of Disney!

2008-11-10T21:37:00.012-06:00

As I put Lyda to bed last night she said. “Daddy, Disney World is the best. But you know what would make it way more cooler? If Ariel could be at the beach and you could see her in the water and we could meet Flounder and Sebastian.”

That does sound cool. So, with that, here are some thoughts about last month's trip to Disney World…

My idea of a vacation is a hike in the mountains or lounging on the beach. The litmus test of inspiring awe is a sunrise over the Grand Canyon or snorkeling with sea turtles. But I must say that, although I rolled my eyes a bit at the thought of a trip to the Magic Kingdom, it was truly awe-inspiring and breathtaking. If only you considered the creative genius of Walt Disney, or his marketing genius, or the coordination and organization it takes just to open the gates every morning, or the sheer volume of fireworks, or the fact that you’re never more than 30 steps from a trash can, or the impeccable craftsmanship in the design – any one of those things is enough to warrant respect. But the real awe and magic is in the eyes of each of those children – young and old – who skip through the turnstiles and marvel at the wonder that is Disney.

To hear Lyda squeal when she saw her favorite characters live in person made it all worthwhile. Even 17-month-old Willa would break into her own version of song whenever she saw a princess, and she fell in love with Pooh.

Suggestions…

Get a meal plan. Even if you think you’re paying too much, it’s nothing compared to what you’d actually pay without a plan, and it saves major hassles. And I think the food was fabulous. Jeni and I are vegetarian, and there were plenty of healthy options.

Bring snacks from home. Pack some extra granola bars, fruit, and juice boxes to save some cash and avoid over-dosing on junk food.

Avoid sugar and plan a nap. Talk about over-stimulation! I saw more parents screaming at their kids to calm down (how ironic) or to quit crying toward the end of each day. Well, duh…you just pumped the kid full of sugar all day, ran him from ride to ride, bribed him to smile for a jillion pictures, and now you expect him to hold back the tears? We went back to the hotel (The Contemporary) for a nap all but one of the five days (they both napped in the strollers that day.) It helped make everyone much more pleasant – especially me.

Plan a character meal. If your kids are at all into the Disney characters, check out one of the special meals. They’re pricey, but worth getting a private audience with and autograph from one of the princesses or Mickey or Donald or Pooh.

Include the grandparents (and get them to pay for everything!). Whatever you may give up in control over gift shop purchases and surgery snack intake is well worth having an extended family experience and extra help with child care. Jeni and I even got a date night at Epcot.

Highlight of the trip…

The princess lunch in the castle. I’m pretty cynical, but even crusty ones like me will be a bit mushy by the time it’s over. Lyda was nearly delirious with excitement. We met Cinderella, Snow White, Jasmine, Belle, and Aurora. And the food was excellent. Again, like everything at Disney, it cost a chunk of change, but it helped create a priceless childhood memory.

Tune in next time for a list of Lyda’s favorite and not-so-favorite Disney attractions!! You’ll get the scoop from one insightful four-year-old.

What Disney tips do you have? Please share them by clicking on "comments." Cheers!

I do!! Now, where are the turtles?

2008-11-03T12:12:00.012-06:00

This past weekend Jeni and I celebrated six years of blissful wedded awesomeness! What more can I say about a woman who proudly and enthusiastically embraces the title “Mrs. Stinky Feet”? That’s the way it’s been since the first minute of our lawfully wedded life. Our pastor turned to the congregation at the end of our wedding ceremony and said, “I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Stinky Feet.”

Jeni has been my rock and my conduit to the earth. She’s got a mountain of faith even when she claims to not know much about it (personally I think the secret to faith and wisdom is in the “not knowing.”) And she seems to get an adrenaline rush of that simple wisdom in times of stress. She couldn’t be a more perfect partner, booking agent, life manager, and caring mom.

So, we celebrated this weekend. We had a quasi-date together out on the town. And we had an actual, relatively-normal family outing on Saturday that didn’t involve playing a show. We do so many cool things together as a family – we travel, attend festivals, go to zoos, go to parks, go to amusement parks, go to carnivals – and it always seems to be in conjunction with “work” – that is if you can call what I do “work.”

We were headed to the Kansas City Zoo the other day when we got pleasantly sidetracked at a fabulous kid-friendly attraction nearby. You folks from the Kansas City area take note of this! The Lakeside Nature Center (www.lakesidenaturecenter.org) in Swope Park, near the south entrance of the zoo, is so amazingly cool! If you haven’t been, please do your family a favor and check it out.

We love the zoo, but some days it’s nice to do something more mellow and less crowded. This is the place – and it's gorgeous.

First off, it’s free (donations recommended and enthusiastically accepted)! And every Saturday morning they have a story time hosted by “mother nature” and a related craft. This week it was a bat story and the construction of a way-cool “bat hat.”

There is a rabbit hutch where kids can pet the soft, cuddly “Gretel.” They’ve got a volunteer-maintained animal rehabilitation facility where injured animals are nursed back to health and released back into nature. You’ll find hawks, owls, two bald eagles, and loads of aquariums with snakes, frogs, tarantulas, and fish. Nothing beats the up-close view of a bald eagle, but one of the center's coolest creatures is the Alligator Snapping Turtle. I’ve never seen anything like it, although they’re the largest freshwater turtle in North America and among the largest in the world. This gnarly, spiny rock-looking guy is about the size of a man-hole cover and floats in a 600-gallon aquarium waiting to lure in fish for his lunch. At first we thought he was too huge to be real, but then his mouth slowly dropped open and his worm-like tongue inched out – that’s what he uses to lure his prey.

It’s simple entertainment, and the kids loved it – especially the hands-on table where you can inspect bones, feathers, turtle shells, horns, and freshly shed snake skin.

The center is surrounded by easy walking trails that feature limestone and shale out-croppings that look out over the railroad tracks and the Blue River valley. We brought a picnic lunch and spent a very easy and fuss-free two-and-a-half hours.

Boo!!!

2008-10-31T14:52:00.004-05:00

It’s so cool when the kids finally get into Halloween. Last year was Willa’s first and the first that Lyda understood what was going on -- sort of.

Early in the evening we were making the final adjustments to her kite costume (see entry below) and getting ready to head out for some trick-or-treating. Lyda ran back into her room and came out with a dollar that she’d fished out of her piggy bank. She held it up to me rather importantly.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“It’s for the candy.”

When she got a puzzled look from her mother and me, she added, “We need some money to buy candy from the neighbors.”

After some suppressed giggles, we explained how trick-or-treating works.

“You mean they give it to us for FREE!!??” she squealed. She was sooooo pumped.

We met her friends on the sidewalk and started ringing door bells on the block. After a handful of houses, Lyda said, “My legs are getting tired. How many more houses do we have to go to?”

Then after a couple of more houses she said something that is music to the ears of a sugar-wary parent like me, “Look at all this candy. There is way too much for me.” Realizing that’s something we will never here again as parents, Jeni and I took advantage of the moment and marched merrily back up the hill toward home.

Everyone was happy. Lyda had a whopping nine houses-worth of candy (that lasted about three months!!) and we were thrilled that she was thrilled. I love those rare moments when everyone wins.

Here is Cinderella and her sidekick Bop Bop Dinosaur. Happy Halloween!!

Halloween Costumes

2008-10-28T10:09:00.005-05:00

The best Halloween costumes are home made, with a little ingenuity and creativity. I love this time of year. Even if we piece together something from the basement to make traditional ghost or witch costumes, it’s the creative challenge I love best.

I saw the coolest one the other day at a show I was playing. I don’t have a pic, but it was an alien inside a flying saucer. This kid had covered two big pieces of round cardboard with aluminum foil, taped the edges, and then “poofed” them apart in the middle to make a saucer. Through a hole cut in the middle, he poked his head that was covered with what looked like a clear plastic ice bucket. His face was painted green. Awesome!

Here’s a pic of Lyda’s costume last year. She went as a kite. Totally cute. It was her own brilliant idea; she just asked me to help build it. So, I taped together two pieces of kite-shaped poster board and cut a hole in one piece for her face to peek through. She colored it herself and we made a tail out of string and fabric. We attached some twine to it and wrapped several feet of it around a wood spool. Her friend Kiera “flew” her down the street as they went trick-or-treating.

So with all of that, this year I’ve lost out to the Disney marketing machine. Cinderella rules in our house. She’s a nearly totally store-bought princess except for the head band and her grandma’s velvet and faux-pearl choker. She is thrilled beyond words. And sooooo very cute, and she knows she looks fine – that’s the best and most important part.

Happy costuming!

Daddy, I have to go to the potty.

2008-10-27T23:23:00.008-05:00

Please humor me as I go spiritual on you for a moment…something happened with my little girl that I’ve got to share with you.

Early this morning I woke, as I often do, to the sweetest of sounds. My groovy little four-year-old angel Lyda calling out to me in her sing-song sweetness, “Da-ddy…Da-ddy…Da-ddy…Daddy…” I was stone cold asleep, so it took me a second to register the voice. I stumbled into her room in the pre-dawn darkness and she whispered, “I have to go to the potty.”

We shuffled together into the bathroom, and I waited with her in the dark. When she finished, I carried her back to bed and lay her down and she whispered, “I love you, daddy.” Then she disappeared under the sheets and fell right back to sleep.

I, on the other hand, was pretty much awake, so I decided to take advantage of the quiet and the stillness and do something for me. I wasn’t sure what that was, so I paced around for awhile and looked out the windows on the sleeping world, when suddenly something semi-profound dawned on me – what just happened between Lyda and me is exactly what happens when we pray.

It goes something like this…When we call out to whomever it is we call out to in times of need or times of ecstatic gratitude, we do so like a little child calls out to her daddy. Whether your God is a He or a She or Something-in-between, you call out in complete certainty that you will be heard and that your God will come running to whisk you off to the potty or meet whatever need you have. Sometimes it takes persistence and repetition, or even constant nagging, but if we don’t let up and never waiver in our faith that there will be an answer, our God shuffles into our lives and embraces us and says “My dear child, what is it? I’ll do anything for you.”

This morning I knew what I was called to do. I sat on the couch and creaked into a quasi-lotus. Just sit. Be still and know God. Then, as I breathed deeply in and out, I called out in a whispy sing-song voice, “Daddy…Daddy…Daddy…Daddy.”

Upside Down is a winner!

2008-10-24T14:57:00.001-05:00

My latest release Upside Down recently received a 2008 Parents' Choice Award! And it's on the Grammy nomination ballot. If you know anyone who is a voting member of the "academy" please let them know that they'll find my CD on the ballot in Field 18, Category 77, #102.

Here's what the Parents' Choice review said...

"Jim Cosgrove crafts his silly and fun music for younger children with solid musicianship and a genial voice...Overall Upside Down is a pleasant and wholesome kid-friendly CD."

Also check out our other good friends who won this year:

Trout Fishing in America for Big Round World

http://www.parents-choice.org/product.cfm?product_id=25053&StepNum=1&award=aw

Dan Zanes for Nueva York!
http://www.parents-choice.org/product.cfm?product_id=24917&StepNum=1&award=aw

And Grammy consideration for...

Here Comes Brady Rymer and The Little Band That Could (www.bradyrymer.com)

This is currently our favorite driving-in-the-car CD. Brady's music has a bit of Woody Guthrie and whole lot of groove. It really rocks, is easy for adults to listen to, and Brady is a great guy.

Let me know what you're listening to these days.

Living the Dream!

2008-10-22T13:13:00.000-05:00

Greetings from a hotel room in Salina, Kansas, and welcome to my blog.

Usually Jeni and the girls are with me on tour, but this week they're home -- Lyda's first soccer games! Since they're not here, I posted their pic instead.

Two great shows this week in small towns in North Central Kansas. Many thanks to the good folks in Beloit and Salina who turned out in big numbers and who totally rocked the house! And a HUGE thank you to Gayle at Solomon Valley Transmissions who looked at my ailing Jetta only to discover that it needs a new tranny! Such is life on the road.

And that's what this blog is about -- traveling and having a blast.

I love what I do!

I get to travel around this great country and sing with kids and their parents. What could be better? And how else would I ever get to experience cool places like the rolling green hills of the Solomon Valley, or the Flint Hills at harvest time, or the fog-draped Appalachians, or the pink-tinted Sandias at sunset, or the south lawn of the White House on a rainy day, or a rockin' school gymnasium in rural Mississippi, or Graceland through the eyes of a two-year-old, or the sand-blasted edges of the Navajo reservation? What makes each of these places even better are the people we've met there.

Please check in here frequently and I'll take you to these places, and I'll introduce you to the many angels and occasional crusty characters we meet along the way. Join in on discussions about traveling with kids. And add your suggestions and tips about better parenting and cool kid music and other stuff.

Stay tuned for my entry on Disney World tips -- and the "Lyda Meter" (a four-year-old's favorites and not-so-favorites.)

Thank you to those who have made these ten amazing years possible. Cheers!