Boulder, CO – “Band-o-Babes” – The Fox Theater- April 22, 1999

Last night, a dozen badass babes stormed the stage at The Fox Theater for “The Women From Mars,” CD release party. Each of us had contributed a song to the compilation going on sale that night. Proceeds would go to fighting breast cancer and MS.

“The Women from Mars” is a composite of Boulder-based-musician-babes who got sick being ships in the night due to hectic touring schedules and booked a monthly gig in town to support and inspire one another (and howl at the moon). No matter where we are in our travels, we do our best to make it back for these gigs (all of which support breast cancer awareness and prevention) womenfrommars.com.

I met up with my songstress sisters early on the morning of the gig for a group radio interview at KCNU. A dusting of winter white covered crocus and daffodils. Snow in April is just one of the strange little quirks of living in Colorado. I cradled my unswaddled guitar to my chest attempting to keep my baby from going out of tune in the cold between car and station. Inside the lobby, Libby Kirkpatrick greeted me with warm coffee and praise for my song on the CD, “and I’m picky,” she added. Her soft brown curls threatened to spring like kamikaze pilots from her head. Moved by her sincere words, I felt a rush of gratitude.

As our estrogen rich collective filled the halls drinking coffee and laughing over road tales, Libby suggested I teach the other girls backups to my “Red Room.” I felt honored by their willingness to lend their voices to lifting MY music onto the airwaves. With my orange bunny hat in hand, the morning’s joy set the stage for the upcoming show.

Backstage, downstairs, in the blue lights of the green room, we primped, trying on wigs, high-top tube socks, tiaras and taffeta tutus. We bartered in horror stories from our travels and consoled each other’s laments and losses. We learned each other’s songs, going two and three at a time into the dimly lit bathroom with guitars to rehearse harmonies without disturbing the camaraderie of our sisters outside.

The stage was lit up with candles and feather boas, guitars and a smattering of percussion instruments shaped like exotic fruit. The audience’s faces were glowing and adoring and supportive. The lineup was: Beth Quist, Maya Dorn, Jude Ponds, Nicole Jamrose, Marie Beer, Monica Augustine, Wendy Woo, Libby Kirkpatrick, Me, Maggie Simpson and Hannah Alkire.

Each Woman took the spotlight for a short set while the rest of us watched from the stairwell in admiration. The night went off without a hitch. All the ladies joined me for “Happy Now” and as our voices braided into one siren call, I thought how lucky I am to have such remarkable, beautiful and talented female friends. Friends, strong enough to support one another’s talent rather than see it as competition to try to tare down.

The snow, which had turned to rain, was pounding and cold when we loaded our instruments into the back alley around 3 a.m. I was buzzing as I kissed and hugged my tribe goodbye and drove home. When I walked in my front door, the electricity blew, leaving me to strip out of wet, clinging clothes in the dark. As I did so, I wondered suspiciously if my inner voltage had caused the blackout.

I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.