Rockin' and Rollin'
Boyfriend had a 12:00 recording session today, so I scheduled a massage for 12:30. We only have one car, and the massage therapist I was using is downtown, as is the studio. I went with him to the studio first, and by the time we loaded all of his drum gear into the studio, I was ready for some bodywork!
The massage was wonderful. I've rarely treated myself to massages for a good decade now. This from a woman who used to get a massage every week when I lived in San Francisco, and at least once a month when I lived in Marin County. Shame on me! I deserve it, right?! The woman who gave me the massage has a room she uses upstairs from her retail shop. I didn't even feel like I was in St. Thomas. I don't know why, but I kept thinking I was back on the West Coast. She had a bamboo shade covering the window that looked out over downtown rooftops and a pedestal fan that rotated a calming breeze over me. It was almost as good as being massaged outdoors. Afterwards we chatted and exchanged phone numbers. I promised to call her for another massage and we might get together for tea. (She's only lived here a year.)
Then I went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. I'm not a big fan of HRC's, but I was in the mood for a Chinese chicken salad, which is the only thing I ever order there. Then I walked back to the studio and just before I reached it, I ran into J., who was producing the tracks. He said the boyfriend was getting ready to do another tune, to make myself at home at the studio and that he was off to teach a piano lesson. When I got to the studio, I discovered that, three hours later, they'd only finished one tune (and he was scheduled to lay down drum tracks for three), the engineer, D., had gone out for some food and the boyfriend was sitting on the couch reading a magazine.
The boyfriend and I spent a few minutes taking some pictures of him in the booth. (I'll post one later if I remember.) When D. returned, they started work on the second tune. D. asked if I'd like a pair of headphones so I could sit in the booth (there was a small couch in there). I said, yeah, okay. So I sat there and listened to the boyfriend play and play and play the same tune (I'll probably hear it in my sleep tonight). And then suddenly...the earth started shaking. As someone who's spent 40 years on the West Coast, I'm very familiar with earthquakes--and they're not unusual in the Caribbean either. (I wish someone had warned me of that before I moved here.) There was a speaker on a pedestal stand right next to the couch where I was sitting. I looked to my right and it was shaking and swaying, as was the rack of headphones and cables. I kept thinking the shaking would stop after a couple of seconds, but it didn't. I looked through the window to the mixing board and saw D. run for the door. That's when I ripped off the headphones and leaned forward to grab the back of the boyfriend's shirt. HE WAS STILL PLAYING!!! He looked momentarily confused, like, what are you DOING?! I'm recording!! I said, "We're having an earthquake!" because everything was still shaking. He ripped off his headphones and we stood up to head for the door of the booth. He started yelling, "Open the door! Open the door!" I said, "I'm trying!!" It had been closed with a bungee cord (there's no knob on the door and that was to keep it shut), but I didn't know that. He reached around me, released the bungee cord and we hightailed it out to join D. on the balcony. That's right: balcony. We were bungee-corded inside a recording booth in a third floor studio. It was only after we were all on the balcony that D. realized he'd run outside without opening the door of the booth first. (Needless to say, he took some ribbing about that when J. returned and we were all talking about the quake.) I just checked the USGS site. It was a 5.1 quake and the epicenter was about 25 miles northeast of us.
We were at the studio for several more hours, but I took up residence on the couch behind the mixing board after the earthquake. I felt a little less claustrophobic knowing I wouldn't be sealed into that little chamber with a bungee cord in case there were aftershocks.
The massage was wonderful. I've rarely treated myself to massages for a good decade now. This from a woman who used to get a massage every week when I lived in San Francisco, and at least once a month when I lived in Marin County. Shame on me! I deserve it, right?! The woman who gave me the massage has a room she uses upstairs from her retail shop. I didn't even feel like I was in St. Thomas. I don't know why, but I kept thinking I was back on the West Coast. She had a bamboo shade covering the window that looked out over downtown rooftops and a pedestal fan that rotated a calming breeze over me. It was almost as good as being massaged outdoors. Afterwards we chatted and exchanged phone numbers. I promised to call her for another massage and we might get together for tea. (She's only lived here a year.)
Then I went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. I'm not a big fan of HRC's, but I was in the mood for a Chinese chicken salad, which is the only thing I ever order there. Then I walked back to the studio and just before I reached it, I ran into J., who was producing the tracks. He said the boyfriend was getting ready to do another tune, to make myself at home at the studio and that he was off to teach a piano lesson. When I got to the studio, I discovered that, three hours later, they'd only finished one tune (and he was scheduled to lay down drum tracks for three), the engineer, D., had gone out for some food and the boyfriend was sitting on the couch reading a magazine.
The boyfriend and I spent a few minutes taking some pictures of him in the booth. (I'll post one later if I remember.) When D. returned, they started work on the second tune. D. asked if I'd like a pair of headphones so I could sit in the booth (there was a small couch in there). I said, yeah, okay. So I sat there and listened to the boyfriend play and play and play the same tune (I'll probably hear it in my sleep tonight). And then suddenly...the earth started shaking. As someone who's spent 40 years on the West Coast, I'm very familiar with earthquakes--and they're not unusual in the Caribbean either. (I wish someone had warned me of that before I moved here.) There was a speaker on a pedestal stand right next to the couch where I was sitting. I looked to my right and it was shaking and swaying, as was the rack of headphones and cables. I kept thinking the shaking would stop after a couple of seconds, but it didn't. I looked through the window to the mixing board and saw D. run for the door. That's when I ripped off the headphones and leaned forward to grab the back of the boyfriend's shirt. HE WAS STILL PLAYING!!! He looked momentarily confused, like, what are you DOING?! I'm recording!! I said, "We're having an earthquake!" because everything was still shaking. He ripped off his headphones and we stood up to head for the door of the booth. He started yelling, "Open the door! Open the door!" I said, "I'm trying!!" It had been closed with a bungee cord (there's no knob on the door and that was to keep it shut), but I didn't know that. He reached around me, released the bungee cord and we hightailed it out to join D. on the balcony. That's right: balcony. We were bungee-corded inside a recording booth in a third floor studio. It was only after we were all on the balcony that D. realized he'd run outside without opening the door of the booth first. (Needless to say, he took some ribbing about that when J. returned and we were all talking about the quake.) I just checked the USGS site. It was a 5.1 quake and the epicenter was about 25 miles northeast of us.
We were at the studio for several more hours, but I took up residence on the couch behind the mixing board after the earthquake. I felt a little less claustrophobic knowing I wouldn't be sealed into that little chamber with a bungee cord in case there were aftershocks.
posted by Marilyn at 7:32 PM
2 Comments:
Wow! YAY!
Here I was all psyched that you wre getting oh so relaxed with a yummy massage when an EARTHQUAKE happens . . . geez--- that's one way to blow the mellow.
~bluepoppy
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