Disturbing the Peace

The police have come to my house so many times I have lost count.  They came again the other day.  Why?  Our band was practicing and one of my neighbors complained about the noise.  Apparently we were disturbing the peace.  All of my other neighbors love our band.  In fact, some have asked me to keep the garage door open so they could hear us play.  But this one particular neighbor does not appreciate us.  She doesn’t seem to hear the music.  It is just noise to her.  She is that person Megan Fox is referring to on her tattoo, “Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”

I have chosen to dance and so have my fellow band mates, Raundi, Isis, Diana, Amy and Debi. 

The police seem to get a kick out of us.  Once they see who we are, they laugh and shake their head.  Sometimes they even stay to listen.  I suppose they expected a bunch of young gnarly pot smoking teenagers rocking out in the garage, not six women all over the age of 40 wearing high heels, guitars and ear plugs.  I suspect we are an anomaly of sort.  A bit strange, definitely unique, absolutely a deviation from what one would expect. 

I’m used to it, living life on the fringe, stretching the limit, “Disturbing the Peace”, hence the name of our band. 

How did this all get started?  Several years ago, a group of my friends decided it would be a blast to put a rock band together.  We wanted to rock out and share our passion with the world, or at least Orange County.   Our kids were our inspiration.  Most of our kids were already playing in a band.  We thought if they could do it, we surely could do it.        

There was only one glitch.  Not one of us could play an instrument.  In fact, most of us did not even own an instrument.  We were not the only band in history that went into it backwards.  U2 did it.  The Go Go’s did it.  We believed we could do it too.  We had passion, the desire to try something new, and we were willing to make complete idiots of ourselves, a definite recipe for success (or at least some fun).

Soon, we found ourselves practicing a couple of times a week in my garage.  We hired our own Jack Black, a young talented musician (and eye candy to boot) to teach us.  I practiced every day until my fingers turned to blisters and the blisters turned to calluses.

Now I am the lead singer by default.  Secretly, I always wanted to be a singer but was scared to death.  When the opportunity arose, I said “yes” of course.  What else would you expect from the Yes Mom?  When I first attempted to sing into a microphone, I pulled a Jim Morrison.  I literally had to turn my back to the crowd.  Now, I never want to get off stage.  It is one of my happy places.

I have a magnet on my refrigerator that reads music is the language of the soul.  I bought it at the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, Arizona.  It’s an amazing place.  There are exhibits of instruments and music videos from countries all over the world.  As you walk around, you see all kinds of people playing music, men, women, children, white, black, purple, young and old.  That is the beauty of music.  It is for everyone that chooses to dance! We are living proof!

5 Responses to “Disturbing the Peace”

  1. Raundi Says:

    ” As you walk around, you see all kinds of people playing music, men, women, children, white, black, purple, young and old. That is the beauty of music. It is for everyone that chooses to dance! We are living proof!”

    I love that last part. Music is for everyone that chooses to dance.

  2. Cyndi Says:

    You girls are always an inspiration to me. I still want to be the “Go Go Dancer”!

  3. Deanne Says:

    You would be an awesome “Go Go Dancer”! Get some boots girl and join us!!!

  4. Juli Hardeman Says:

    So proud of you Deanne. I miss you and glad things are going well for you. Your family is beautiful.

  5. Nancy Bayless Says:

    Atta girl, Deanne. What a fabulous family and what an interesting life! Nancy

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