Hello! It’s me again. Beth. The Big Blue Mess.

You know, the writer? (hah) Author? (HAH!) Rando with a keyboard and an internet connection, too much free time, and too much caffeine? (Ooh, that’s about right.) Anyway, you know—me.

Well, it’s Sunday, and rather than doing the things I should be doing, I’m casting about looking for other things to do, and we’re now at my second choice. No offense. I love a good ramble, but “catching up on Slow Horses” won out today, and that’s only because I finished Peacemaker (“what a joke”) yesterday. BUT while this may have actually been my third choice of things to do in order to avoid other things, it at least made the top five! So… WHOO HOO!

I really just wanted to share a few updates to catch friends and family up.

Orchestra

We kicked off our concerts for the season last weekend under the direction of a new conductor, who is one of two auditioning to join us permanently. Let me start by saying: I don’t like change. And yes, I recognize the hypocrisy in even saying that, since I’m the one most likely to tell someone who makes that kind of pronouncement, “Change is not inherently good or bad, it’s just different.”

Well, deep down, I hate it, and I’ll rail against it because it sucks and I want no part of it. I can try to cajole myself into accepting it by reminding myself, “Hey buddy, we can’t progress without change. We have to take risks.” Yeah, no thank you. Veto. I liked the way we were doing things just fine. Sell that nonsense elsewhere.

Now, part of my resistance was brought on by not being able to participate in our final concerts with our old conductor; missing those concerts still doesn’t sit well with me. Where friends and family thought it wasn’t a big deal, it was actually a huge deal for me to be pulled out of that community. It upset me and made me feel angry. Anyway, the result of that was I didn’t get to hear our conductor’s parting words, which I’m sure left many in tears. Honestly, he was the best conductor I’ve had the privilege of working with in all my years of playing. Plus, he has the biggest heart. He’d frequently start rehearsal with, “Tell me what’s going good with you all before we start tonight,” inviting us to celebrate and encourage each other. If a tragedy befell the group, he’d take a moment to acknowledge it, offer his own words, and frequently tear up.

That kind of thing goes a long way with me.

So, I walk into that first rehearsal and there he is—Mr. New Guy—and my first thought, without him even saying hello, was “DISLIKE!” followed by “no new friends!” and a small “bye, Felicia.” Then the new guy spoke, and it wasn’t horrible, maybe even a bit funny, but still a “nope, you won’t trick me with your charms.” But that “nope” wasn’t as hard. In fact, it was in a smaller font and written in a way where the word could possibly be confused with “maybe?” if you squinted a bit.

Fast forward about eight weeks and ten two-hour weekly rehearsals, and we land at last week’s concerts in the parks. (Yes, parks—plural.) I absolutely adore him! I love his passion for music, his ability to convey his vision, and his genuine humility. I love that he geeked out by talking to one of the composers on the phone and came back and shared bits of that conversation. I love that he got the guy who arranged one of our pieces to show up at one of our concerts. I love how much he seemed to love just being with us. (Plus, he’s actually REALLY funny—and my kind of geek.)

Anyway, he set a high bar for the next person who will be joining us in March-ish. And can I just say I’m pulling for him? I’m pulling for him.

Fundraising

Okay, a pivot to the fundraising efforts for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP).

OMG, y’all… (said in my best—cheesiest?—’80s Valley Girl voice)

This year we broke all kinds of fundraising records for our team.

First off, we have 25 registered walkers. (The previous record was 22.) NICE!!! Way to commit to grabbing those shoes and going outside.

Secondly, we raised over $10,000!!!!

WHAT?!?!?! That blows my mind!

Huge thanks to everyone who’s participating, who made a donation, and who raised funds on behalf of the team.

Each of us comes to this team for different reasons—whether it’s to support AFSP’s mission, to stand beside a loved one who’s struggling, to navigate our own challenges, or because we’ve lost someone. And yet, you show up. Every year. You all are amazing!

I’m deeply grateful to each of you. I know this is a difficult and often isolating subject, and your willingness to engage with it means everything.

I hope you all know: I see you. I support you.

If you haven’t already donated or committed to walk on October 25th, I hope you take the time now. I’ll say it again: you do not have to donate to walk. Just throw on those shoes and choose to stand with us—to support us, whether you’re here in Austin at the official walk or somewhere else that day.

https://afspwalks.donordrive.com/teams/366227

A Few Grumbles

Okay, I have a few grumbles about fundraising, and this is in no particular order.

I have to stand on stage again. I’ve been onstage maybe three times prior for this cause, and I’ve given a speech once, which I still pick apart in my head. I’m pretty sure it was terrible and didn’t resonate, and it makes me feel weird that I did it. Now, before you leap to my defense and “imposter syndrome” at me, I’m going to quickly counter that NO ONE from the organization thanked me for doing that afterward. Soooo… I’m about 90% okay with how I feel about the whole thing. Thankfully, this go-around, I just have to bob my head and acknowledge I’m a Team Captain, then hoorah that they put the team’s name on everyone’s shirts. Hoorah.

While I’m excited that I didn’t really have to mess with incentives—I only had to make some digital badges, posters, and write a bit—I’m super sad folks didn’t rally together for the incentive that involved me going with Anna to a Halloween shop and wearing whatever she chose. Here’s the thing: I’m having to miss a Halloween party this year, but I still wanted to dress up, and I was kind of hoping (counting on) this to act as an excuse to get a costume. See, the incentive for you was going to be an incentive for ME! Now, adorable children won’t get candy this year because none of that happened. I mean, we eventually got that $1,500, but not by the deadline so Halloween is cancelled. (I’m super good at logic!)

I just think of those poor kids with their empty Halloween buckets, not hopped up on too much sugar, trudging home empty-handed. (I don’t know how me not having an excuse to get a costume relates, but I thought I’d distract you with the sad kids bit to milk the pity. Is it working?)

Alrighty, y’all! That’s most of my stuff in a really fat nutshell.

I hope to see you at the walk on October 25th or at least a photo of you walking, and then I hope to see you the first weekend of December for our Christmas concerts!