Taking off for the Prairie this morning, my fiends. I’m excited for few days of talking to and with some other choral directors, maybe encouraging or inspiring a few of them, having some alone time to think (and to go see Public Enemies at least once), and, hopefully, selling some books in the process. That will make me happy.
Do I plan to shirk my Finkville responsibilities while I’m away? Au contraire, mes amis. I will be with you nearly every morning, as is customary. So feel free to check back if you get the hankerin’.
Last time I left home for a week, Michael Jackson died. Let’s hope this trip is way more uneventful.
Welp. It is now 6:30 a.m., and all my bags are packed — I’m ready to go. Gotta hit the showers. Mavis arrives at 8 for coffee, so that will be fun. Then I’m on the road by 9. The last time I drove any real long distance by myself was a few years ago, when I went to Florida — 17 hours rockin down the highway, fake blond hair blowing in the breeze. I am doing that same trip next summer, FYI, BTW, don’t you know. Can’t wait. Visiting RD and his wife Bonnie, and then going to spend some time with my nephew the actor. Fun times.
Anyway, have a great weekend, everyone. I’ll post from the road. Call or text if you feel so inclined!
Fink, off to the great wide open.
PS – list the three songs (and the artists who recorded them) that I referenced in this post, and you will win a super-fantastic prezzy, taken from the RtB secret Prize Vault. Because I know you like prizes, my preciouses.

I made a list — then I lost it. Dang.
Yesterday, the Thriller said, “You are going to enjoy this.” He was right. I am looking forward to it. Twelve hours in the car alone, tunes blasting, singing at the top of my little lungs…it will be therapy for me, and the solitude always does a body good.
e·piph·a·ny: A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.