We took Magnolia to sound check with us. This was the first time we didn't have anyone to watch her while we sound checked. Originally my mother was going to come to Texas with us, but since her mother passed away, we made other plans. We'd bring her along to the show until right before we played, and then we'd drop her at the house we were staying at. We were lucky that Sharon and Troy (our Dallas friends) were willing to babysit after having us wreck their house for three days.

At sound check, we got Mags an apple juice, put her headphones on and told her to sit behind us on the stage. She started coloring while we set up. She was great. Only, we had another problem to deal with: the organ was nowhere to be found. It was not shipped to Dallas as it was supposed to be. After a few phone calls, we found out that there was some bad communication with the shipping company and our organ was still sitting at the theater in Seattle. No one picked it up. So, as my family likes to say, we were up shit creek. We found a piano keyboard and quickly tried to learn a bunch of organ and bass songs on the piano. We had already worked up some unplugged songs from the This American Life Tour but there were about twelve more we had to pull off if we wanted to get paid that night, not to mention avoid ridicule for sucking. Normally, if this had happened, we would have spent hours practicing and working out the songs. But our little girl was sitting on the stage behind us, finishing up the third Dora the Explorer picture in her coloring book. So we knew we had limited time.

We've been contemplating losing the 200-pound beastly organ for some time. The problem is, it's our signature sound. Although we know we can make music without it, it might take listeners some time and some very open minds to get used to it. We realized we'd find out soon enough later that night. Throughout the sound check, we'd occasionally have to pause because a little person was tugging on my shirt from behind. We'd offer snacks, a headphone break, and of course Gummi Bears, if only she would allow us to do "one more song." I felt a little guilty until I looked back during the piano rendition of "Fraud in the '80s," Maggie's favorite song by Mommy and Daddy. She was swinging her hips back and forth. So, I figured if she was dancing, fooled into thinking the song is normal, then maybe everyone else would accept the new, organ-free Mates of State as well.

We left, a little insecure but with positive outlooks and headed to a horrible Mexican restaurant called "Taco Diner" in Dallas. They gave me a side of grease with my tacos. I'm not kidding. We all tasted it. Grease. After lunch, we drove around the outskirts of Dallas for an hour so Magnolia could finish her nap. Then we let the kids put their bathing suits on and pretend to go swimming since the pool wasn't opened yet. Before we left for the show, I kissed Magnolia goodbye and she said, "Don't worry, Mommy. I will not cry when you leave. I will be a good, big girl." I love her.

I'm not sure how the show went. (You can see clips here, here and here.) I think we pulled it off okay. It was kind of fun to be put in a situation that we might have thought unsalvageable in the past. Now that we're parents, I feel like we just accept situations with shitty circumstances if there is nothing we can do about it. That's Zen, right? Maybe that's what parenting gives you, Zen capabilities. Despite all the new worries, sleep deprivation and responsibility, you can shrug your shoulders when there is nothing else you can do about bad luck. Plus, another band's van got stolen after the show with all of their equipment inside. So, if anyone was standing around saying how we sucked without the organ, they forgot when the chaos surrounding the van theft began. I tried to offer the bummed-out band some money, but my money was just not gonna help, considering someone took their entire van with suitcases, amps, computers, guitars and all. I hope they find it — although the police in this neighborhood in Dallas completely ignored us when our van got broken into a few months ago. Might not be the best area for a rock show. Oh, well. Tour is over soon.

Once we came back from the show, Magnolia was up twice that night, balling her eyes out. She can't handle this whole sleeping-without-her-pacifier thing. I'm so tempted to go buy her more pacis and let her keep them another year, but Jason would kill me.

Next time: There's no place like home!

See this post in its original format here.