I Actually Used the Word "Tidbit"

Here is another tidbit in the 6 Degrees of Separation/It's A Small World tale of musician's lives. I was sitting in the styling chair at my new hairdresser's salon last month, when I mentioned we were playing at Ziggies. (Faith Himschoot of Hair By Faith in Arvada, totally recommend her.) "Oh!" Faith shrieked, "I was hoping you would say that. One of my other clients plays there, with a band called Mama Raven!" Turns out her longstanding client is Bill Garcia, drummer for the Mama Raven Band, which just so happens to be another band in which our bass player Clarence plays . . . in fact, we just saw them at Ziggies in February. Bill, you have good taste in hairdressers! I am sitting in Faith’s chair, and I am totally nervous because I am getting my hair colored for the first time (okay, it’s public). My father was a hairdresser and one thing he made me promise him was never to color my hair. He used to talk about clients he had such as one whose hair was so red “she could stop traffic half a mile away.” My mother, on the other hand, had an inscription in her high school yearbook that said: “To Pat—the only girl I know who has a different color of hair every week.” So finally, here I am, I took the plunge, I am having my hair colored, and poor Faith winds up with this ball of nerves in her chair. I told her that my father was a hairdresser. “For 50 years” I said, “so I know the business.” I have no idea what I was implying, but probably something like: “don’t screw up my hair!” We were chatting, and Faith mentioned that she loved to dance, and that she used to teach ballroom dancing. My father used to teach ballroom dancing also . . . weird. I hear this voice in my head that says “ask her where she taught,” so I asked, “who did you teach for?” When I heard the words “Arthur Murray Dance Studios,” I burst into tears. My father used to teach for Arthur Murray. How many people in your life have you known who taught ballroom dancing at Arthur Murray? Exactly—not many! I have known two, my dad and now Faith. I just felt it was kismet or something. It was like my dad was telling me, “she’s the one. It’s okay to color your hair now, she’ll take care of you.” Poor Faith is just looking at me, digging deep to bring out her most compassionate hairstylist-turned-therapist response, probably feeling grateful that at least Bill Garcia and his wife Michelle are normal. But seriously, it was really amazing. I talk all the time about how I believe that those who have passed are still with us in some way, but the moments when I feel “evidence” of it are so special, and this was one of them. Love, Cara