The corporate life

I've just returned from Amsterdam where I was basking in all my corporate glory. Most of you probably know that I have the still essential day job. I got this job soon after I moved to New York and it accidentally turned in to a career. I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't have the experience. Just goes to show that the right place at the right time really does have something to do with where you end up in life.

I work for a company in the broadcasting industry and I worked my way up quickly because - funny enough - it turns out I'm actually good at what I do! (This was amazing to many seeing as the words "corporate" and "business" came up next to never around the family dinner table.)

Naturally, I don't always love it, but then again mashed potatoes are just about the only thing in this world that I always love (anything instant is automatically excluded, of course). But fate would have me end up landing a job in a young company that was growing, and hard work is something that a good Southern girl will never shy away from.

So here I am spending weeks abroad at trade shows around the world and this has included a week in Amsterdam for the last three years. It's called the IBC and is an extravaganza of suits and people who at the least know how to pretend that they're very smart. I've slowly been learning how to get along in this world, as can be seen in this clip of me acting like I know a thing or two ...

http://blog.broadcastengineering.com/ibc/2008/09/15/political-packets-from-the-parties/

Yes, I sound like a complete dork, but this is my job.

But the absolute best part about these events and this new world that I spend my days in ... there's never a line for the ladies' room.

Hanna hiccup

Lesson learned. Mother Nature and the little hurricanes she creates take into account no man, woman or the best-laid plans for a musical tour by an aspiring artist from New York trying to play a few gigs down South.

O.K., so you can see where this is going. But I'm going to tell you the story anyway. Erik Boyd (bass) and David Patterson (guitar) showed up at my apartment Tuesday (September 2) morning, equipment in tow, and we piled everything on the ground, looked at the back of the car and realized this might take a little effort. So we combined our three left brains and all spontaneously applauded when it was all in, even though we were a grand total of four people observing including my roommate Athana.

And off we headed, burning ridiculously expensive gas as we steered south, stopping to munch on mediocre New Jersey rest-stop cuisine. We had just crossed the Virginia border when I got the call from Jeanine Rhodes, one my friends in South Carolina - real estate broker and southern lady extraordinaire - who had helped me immensely in orchestrating the details of the down-home tour. Based on the projected path of Hurricane Hanna, Edisto Island had scheduled a voluntary evacuation for the following day -- Wednesday, the day of the (supposed) first show. To top it off, a mandatory evacuation was scheduled for Thursday.

Now, for those of you not familiar with life in hurricane territory, this is when the police literally go door to door to tell you that you must leave or else you forsake all protection and rescue services provided by the government. There is no siren that goes off and a basement or cellar to hide in. They just tell you to take what you want, get off (the island), and cross your fingers that what you left will be there when you return. It's hit and miss, but if you're unlucky enough to be exactly where these named darlings come ashore, you're pretty much screwed.

I decided to go ahead and stay in Virginia for the night as planned and give Hanna a few more hours to change her mind about the direction she was going. The next morning, nothing had changed. Schools were announcing closings to prepare to be shelters, the local town hall was paying to have important documents moved inland and tourists were being told to get out of Dodge.

So I made the call. We didn't go. This was a gut-wrenching choice, but the only logical one. These storms are no joke.

Therefore, the grand conclusion of the story is that we had some great rehearsal time in Virginia (much to the delight of my mother in Williamsburg) as we waited. But it's pretty much accurate to say that the sheer force of nature decided the time was not right for my first Southern tour.

But have no fear.

We WILL reschedule.

Just not during hurricane season.

Currently looking at dates in February 2009.