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wednesday, october 10, 2001

I’ve never heard someone with such an amazing and powerful voice. Edie Carey was incredible. She wasn’t exactly what I had pictured though. I guess I was expecting someone a bit more demure and “soft” from the pictures I had seen of her, but she was quite bubbly, energetic, and even a bit crass. It was funny though. She’s got quite the sense of humor and had the crowd laughing up a storm. But when she sang, man, did she sing! I would even go as far as to say I’ve never heard anyone live with such incredible vocals as her (umm, I already said this at the beginning, huh?).

The more I’m exposed to the music scene, the more and more I become inspired to write amazing, beautiful, and inspiring songs that will move people. I was so happy last night, I could’ve cried. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I’m an emotional mess lately, and I’ve turned into this despicable and pathetic ball of mush.

I got home late last night after the gig and finally went to bed around 2, content and delighted with everything going on in my life right now. Well of course, this great feeling didn’t last when my ancient heater in my room started hissing at 5 in the morning. I thought I was dreaming again—that terrorists were on the attack and poisonous, toxic gas was leaking into my bedroom. But I was wide-awake and the hissing was not a figment of my imagination.

So I got up, walked over to the furnace and searched all around to find the exact source of the noise. It grew louder and louder, and I was very wary that it might end up exploding in my face while I was examining it. So I thought better of it and stepped away from the heater. I went over to my roommate’s room (who was out for the night) to check on her heater. There was total silence. What the heck is going on here? I wondered.

So I put on my slippers and headed downstairs to the superintendent’s apartment. I know it’s 5 in the morning, and common courtesy would tell most people to wait at least until the sun was up to bother someone from their peaceful slumber. But I wasn’t going to take chances—I wasn’t just going to sit there and wait for it to explode, if that was the case.

I trekked down two flights of stairs, knocked on her door, and waited. I had to knock a couple times (and progressively louder) to get a response (yes—I’m the tenant from hell). Finally a voice.

“Who is it?”

“Umm, it’s the tenant from the top floor.”

She opens the door, bleary eyed but smiling. It’s the first time I’ve seen her, and before me stands an adorable elderly Hispanic woman in her pink pajamas. My roommate told me she was a very pleasant and kind woman, and I almost feel a tinge of guilt for waking her up so early.

“What’s wrong?” she inquired in a soft voice.

“I’m so sorry to wake you up, but my heater is making this very strange noise. I’m afraid it’s going to blow up on me.” I know it’s a stupid thing to say, but that really was my prime concern.

And how does she respond? She laughs. “Oh, darling. Old furnaces will do that. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Umm, are you sure?” The fact that it’s both old and it’s expected to make that noise bother me. And besides, how was I expected to sleep at night when it was making this hideous sound?

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll send someone up tomorrow to look at it, okay?” She was so nice about it that all I could do was thank her and head back upstairs. What did I expect her to do anyway? Break out her tools and come up with me to take a look at it? Well, yeah. I did. If it had been a guy, I’m almost sure I would have insisted he do just that.

So I went back upstairs and the hissing was so loud, I could hear it from the stairway leading up to my apartment. There was no way on earth I was going to get any sleep with that noise. I examined the heater once again, looking for a valve or some sort of dial to shut the thing off. I had no luck finding it so out of sheer frustration, I kicked it a couple times. “So what if you’re old and rotting. Don’t hiss at me about it!!! I need my sleep, so just stop it!!” (I like to talk to inanimate objects. It’s fun. You should try it sometime).

A couple more kicks, and voila. It stopped. I don’t know what I did, but the hissing began to soften and then started to make a puttering noise. Eventually it died out altogether and silence filled my bedroom once again.

At 5:40am, I climbed under the warmth of my comforter and slept comfortably for almost two more hours. 7:30 the alarm went off, and I was not a happy camper. I usually look forward to the mornings, but not this one. I wanted to stay in bed all day.

At 9:30, I’ve already had my second cup of coffee. I'm probably going to go for my third in the next hour. Partly because it tastes good. Partly because it keeps me warm. But mostly because I need a good caffeine kick to get me through the morning right now.

I know I've spent more time and space writing about my heater (which probably doesn't interest anyone but me) than a performance that simply blew my mind away. But it's the little things in life that keep it interesting.

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Copyright © 2001 Rachel Young