St. Patrick's 2019

I almost joined a band this winter, but after a few rehearsals I told them I don't have the energy to be the female singer and whistle player for an uptempo Irish band. Especially not this year. Breast cancer surgery and radiation treatment knocked me off my feet during the last 8 months, and just when I started to shake off the exhaustion from radiation, they started me on 7 years of an aromatase inhibitor drug that knocked me down again. I just had a month of fatigue and muscle/joint ache side effects, so we're thinking about trying a different drug.
If you've seen me perform a concert recently, you know I still can. It's just that I end up having to spend a day or two basically in bed afterwards, paying for it. So, I'm mostly playing for funerals, hospices, and churches, when asked.
But there are two major musical things I have managed to achieve during Breast Cancer Year. The first is getting my local Irish session onto a Philadelphia TV show, and the second is playing a concert with my Dad.
Sligo Session in Media, PA
Every Monday night (except Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve), a bunch of us sit in the corner of the Sligo Pub and play Irish tunes for hours. That's jigs, reels, hornpipes, etc., on fiddle, accordion, flute, banjo, concertina, whistle, bodhran (drum), mandolin, guitar, and sometimes harp. There are songs sung and poems recited, and it's free to watch and listen for all the pub's customers. I like this event and all the people so much that I pitched it to a producer of a new show on WHYY-TV Philadelphia called "You Oughta Know." They said yes, filmed us for two hours in December, and showed us in a 4-minute segment on the show on Feb. You can watch it here, somewhere in the middle of the show. I was interviewed, and as far as I can tell, I only said one or two stupid things.
Concert with Al Mann
Dad is turning 88 in a few weeks, but he still wants to sing. In public. To his adoring fans (I'm not kidding). Over the past few decades I've played piano for him occasionally during his concerts. But now he can't physically sustain an entire concert by himself, so I sing with the harp half the time, and I play piano while he sings for the other half. We performed last month at the Ocean City NJ library, in their beautiful concert hall, for 85 people. I was in the bathroom putting on my lymphedema sleeve when my husband came to tell me Dad had started singing without me, and from that point on it was the dad and daughter comedy routine with some songs in-between. You can see some of it here. We got a standing ovation at the end. Some day maybe I'll explain my father, but for now I can say that he loves to perform and audiences love him back. But he can't do it unless I book it, learn the new song he always wants, rehearse with him ahead of time (a 45-minute drive from my house), go and get him for the concert, and bring any equipment we need. Then I play for the entire concert while making sure he gets back from the bathroom, has something to drink and throat lozenges plus something to lean on and a place to sit when he's not performing. The concert was really fun, but I was in bed for two days afterwards. Almost immediately, he started calling me asking when we're going to do another one. God help me.  
Beyond the Pale
So back to this band I almost joined: they're called Beyond the Pale, and I just saw them perform the first of two shows today at the Flash in Kennett Square, PA. Apparently they got their old lead singer / whistle player back and were able to somehow continue without me. They were awesome and so much fun. And since I didn't book any St. Patrick's gigs for myself this year, it was pretty much my only St. Patrick's event, thankfully from the audience.
Now What?
I know my breast cancer is gone because I just had an MRI that said so. Once we figure out how I can take this cancer drug, I'll be back. In the meantime, if you need a harp for a short concert (like a church service or opening for another performer), or a background event (like a party), or a funeral or hospice visit, give me a call.