The Como Mamas

Originally published on 10-23-13

Sometime in mid-March, I was working at ACL and SXSW acts were rolling through the venue.  The ticket for this particular night read, Soul Review. I thought, “Cool. I like soul music.” And I had a glimmer of hope that Justin Timberlake would swing by.  

At 8pm when the house lights went down the venue only had about 100 people in it.  It was a meager start to the night as the venue fits about 2700 music lovers. As I surveyed the crowd I thought, “Maybe Prince is playing down the street or something.”

I scanned the acts on the ticket and since I hadn’t heard of any of them, I didn’t pay much attention.  As ACL spans four floors I spent a lot of my time running around chatting and checking with staff on each floor. As I was running around my boss, Tom asked “Have you been inside the venue yet? You’re going to love the act on stage.” As soon as I found a good breaking point I made my way inside the venue and was immediately blown away.

The room was dark and cold and filled with the unforgettable voices of The Como Mamas. As I surveyed the stage I thought, “Only three ladies, no instruments?”  I had heard similar sounds from movie soundtracks before, but never in person. The group is made up of three lifelong Gospel singers from the small town of Como, Mississippi, and they were magnificent.  Their voices cut straight through the fluff and went directly to my bones.  Their voices were gripping. I was mesmerized. I inched my way toward the front of the stage and got lost in their voices. I took photos and videos but nothing compared to the real thing.

When their set was over and the crowd of what was now 200 people had finished applauding, I decided to make good use of my all access pass and go backstage to tell them how awesome they were.

I walked straight up to my favorite of the three singers, Ms. Ester Mae, and I introduced myself. “Hello, my name is Catia and I work here.  I just wanted to tell you how powerful and impactful your performance was. Listening to your voices is very moving. Good luck with…” I thought it was be a quick congratulations and I’d be on my way. But before I turned away she grabbed my hands in hers.

We were outside her dressing room and folks were hurriedly working getting ready for the next band, but somehow all that faded away and I felt connected.  I didn’t yet know what she was going to say, but I knew that I was going to pay attention.

My small soft hands sat in her encompassing rough hands.  Her hands felt like they had been productive for decades. She was tall and was of bigger build and dressed in her Sunday best. Her long corn rows were pulled back in a ponytail and she was smiling so big I could see her gold capped teeth. No one would have questioned her being backstage but she was wearing her artist badge proudly.

Once my hands were in hers and our eyes locked she said, “Thank you so much for that. You know, I’m 62. They came into my church and discovered me 4 years ago. All my life I’ve been singing in the church, for the church and just now, my dreams are coming true. Tomorrow, they are taking me on a plane to New Orleans!”  She was beaming. Ms. Ester continued, “I’ve been praying my whole life to God. You just keep working hard for what you want. Don’t lose faith in yourself or in God. When you’re ready, your dreams will find their way to you. Don’t be afraid of hard work.”

I was blown away by her words of wisdom. I knew that this was not an ordinary occurrence.

Ms. Ester definitely looked like she could cook a southern meal and give a great hug. And since we weren’t near a kitchen, I asked if I could give her a hug and she agreed.  It was such a mama bear hug.  I could feel her love even though she didn’t know me from Adam.

Did she know Guapo and I were about to hit a rocky patch? Did she know I was going to jump into writing full time? Did she know that I was training for a marathon? Did she know I was working two jobs and was really tired? There were so many balls in the air; I had no clue how life was going to be come May.  How did she know I would need to hear her words?  She didn’t, but God did.  

God sent her to me to say, “Keep your head down, work hard and don’t lose faith.” The words, “I’m 62 and I’m just walking into my dream,” pop into my thoughts when I get impatient.

There are signs all around and they come to us in different packages. The universe is constantly talking to us, guiding us along. However, the signs from the universe won’t always be obvious, most times, they’ll be subtle.  We have to be open and aware enough to receive them. We have to have open hearts, open minds and be quiet enough within ourselves to notice the messages.   

If we are constantly numbing ourselves out with food, alcohol or even activity we will have a hard time reading the signs along the way, if we see them at all. James Earl Jones is not going to show up at our doors telling us what our next move should be, neither is the Wizard of Oz.

Some days a door will open and a door will close and that’s as much change that will happen. Some days there may be a road block along the way redirecting us, and some days the universe may send us Ms. Ester. Most times the signs are so small that we may not even give them any significance, but they are there. Pay attention.

Justin Timberlake was a no show that night, but I got something much better, a hug from Ms. Ester and a message from God.

Ms. Ester, may you continue to touch people’s souls the way you touched mine.

Leaving work Post Partum

Originally published on 7-24-13

Before graduating high school I was an honors student, played varsity golf and was a drum major of a 300 person marching band. When I graduated at 17 years old, I ranked 5th out of 600. After high school I attended UT Business School and clipped through that in 3 years, only to graduate at 20 years old.  Immediately after UT I enrolled in graduate school at the University of Houston where I worked full time and took a full course load. After two years in graduate school I graduated with a 4.0 and got hired onto my then dream job, a manager at Eddie V’s Edgewater Grille in downtown Austin. In 2006 Eddie V’s was the sexiest place in town.  The restaurant was filled with money, power, fame and beauty to boot. I was having my cake and eating it too. At 25 my family hired me full time to help run their million dollar business, Holiday Wine and Liquor. I attended community events, filmed commercials, conducted wine tastings, created team culture and built our brand. After four years with Holiday, I was hired in 2011 to be General Manager of Bar Operations at ACL-Live in downtown Austin. I was back in Austin and working at the hippest place in town. Mariah Carey told me to make it happen, and I did.

Well, a month ago I let ACL and all the cache that went with it, go. I left for two reasons. The first was to create a better environment for my relationship and future family. The second was to focus on Anna and see my dreams of writing and coaching come true.

But, seven days after I left ACL, it hit like an anvil, I was making less money and I had turned in all my street cred. Money equals power, right? Or does money equal freedom? Or does working at a cool place equal power and freedom? Whatever money and job status equals, I started to feel a little less than. I felt like a financial burden to my partner and it seemed the only way to rectify this was to work really hard at making our house perfect. 

On the 8th day, I woke up at 7:45 and made the bed by 8am. I had never made the bed so early. By noon, I had washed dishes, rearranged the living room furniture, took out the trash and recycling, made iced tea, and thanked my boyfriend 78 times for reasons known and unknown. I kept thinking, “Oh, what a nice man to take me in with all my student loan debt, I’d better be extra appreciative today, he is the breadwinner after all!” I was thanking him at the rate that Pippen thanked Jordan. I was thanking him like Katie Holmes and Nicole Kidman thanked Tom Cruise.  I couldn’t stop thinking how disrespectful it would be to say, “You bring home the bacon and don’t forget to cook in for breakfast too!”

Maybe it was the Mexican servitude in me and maybe it was all those years of Catholic guilt indoctrination, but it was there and it was loud.

The fact that I was not contributing as much money to the family bank account grabbed a hold of me in a way I didn’t think it would. But, like the sun rises every morning, so too did God send me a teacher.

In the few weeks after my mind had been spinning, Guapo and I sat down with friends for dinner. There were three couples, and we sat divided at the table, three men and three women. Conversation got rolling and I had the patience to wait until our entrees to do what I do best, spill my beans.

I detailed my latest life developments which included: leaving ACL, making less money, feeling overloaded with domestic duties and feeling a little less than. I described to these ladies who are wonderful mothers and strong women, how I had been unsettled and how I was trying to get my sea legs for being what I have coined a ‘house person’ (since I’m not a Mom yet), someone who largely works from home and tends to house hold duties.

Elizabeth, a mom of three, looked at me and said, “Girl, when I left my job, it took me a year and a half to adjust!”  She said, “Even though I knew it was the right decision for my family, I felt less than because I no longer had a job that people were in awe of.”  Elizabeth continued with, “It took some real effort not to say, I’m just a stay at home mom. When the babies cried, I felt the need to jump out of bed and not inconvenience my husband who works long days.”

Vanessa, a mom of two, said, “Oh yes, I totally understand. At first you’ll feel the need to always have the dishwasher empty and have elaborate dinners cooked.”  She too had a really cool job where she had more street cred than she could ask for. Vanessa also opened up and told me about the first time she went shopping after she became a stay at home mom. She said she paused out of guilt before buying a $50 bra, because maybe it wasn’t really communal money. Thankfully, Vanessa didn’t let the conversation end before telling me that there was a time she apologized to her husband for not having the dishes cleaned and he replied with, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your job.” Surprised, Vanessa asked, “It’s not?” And she grabbed my hand and looked at me and said, “It’s not.” I felt relief sinking in.

There’s a lot to be said for women who support women. They could have easily brushed aside my comments, but they didn’t. They listened and empathized and responded. They held my hand, told me they knew exactly how I felt and sent me on my way. I am very grateful for them.

On the drive home after dinner, because I just had to have it all figured out before we were in the driveway I asked Guapo “What is my job now that I have so much free time?”  He took a second and said, “Your job is to be kind and thoughtful and fulfilled, without those things our world doesn’t work.” He said, “You took a leap of faith on us, and I honor that. You giving up a job where you work nights and odd hours enhances our lives, and for that I’m grateful.” It finally started sinking in that I in fact was not a financial burden and that my increased presence in our lives was valued on time alone.

We parked the car, walked inside our home and I sat at the kitchen table while I watched Guapo buzz around the house. He fed the dogs and changed the slip covers on the sofa cushions and I told my Catholic guilt to hit the road.

The next day I reconciled that all my go getter accomplishments were still there and that “I” the person who did all those things didn’t vanish, I just decided to take another route. I made a deliberate choice to channel my energy into my home and my family and my dream of writing, and that doesn’t make me less than who I was six months ago. It in fact, gets me closer to being who I want to be.  

Ladies, thank society for their idea of who you should be and if it doesn’t work for you, set it aside. Our greatest responsibility is not to make sure we fit into perfect boxes. Our greatest responsibilities as beings are to remain fulfilled and healthy and happy, so that we may make each of our corners a better place.

Some days I’ll have the bed made by 8am and some days I won’t, and it’s all okay. 

Last Day

Originally published on 6-26-13

About 5 years ago I was living in McAllen and would visit Austin my home away from home and mosey downtown, particularly 2nd street and look at all the twinkly lights and busy eateries and wine bars and think, “Someday, I’m going to walk here, live here, be here, I’m not sure when or how, but I will.” 

Then one day in early 2011, I got a phone call and on one end of the phone I heard, “You ready to move back?” I replied, “I’m in.”  Tom my great friend and past and future boss man replied, “I can’t promise you anything, I’m not even sure I need a manager.”  “I’ll make it work,” I said.  “We’ll make it work,” he said, and we did.

By the first week of June 2011 I had an ACL Live all access badge, a parking pass and a spot on my favorite street in Austin. And as luck would have it, the twinkly lights were still up.

After two glorious years, June 16th was my last day at ACL Live.

For 2 years I have worked 2 full time jobs. I have been in overdrive and I have loved it. I worked as a General Manager of Bar Operations at ACL Live, fulfilled the Business Development role at Holiday Wine and Liquor, ran a marathon, did 2 Tough Mudders, jumped out of a plane, rappelled down a 32 story building, found a church home, fell in love, remembered to brush my teeth twice a day (ok, maybe not every day) and I tried my best to keep the laundry done and folded. Can I get a high five?  Before you give me that high five, I can never promise anything is ironed; can I still get a high five?

I wanted to see just how much I could fit on my personal plate and the answer was, a lot. One day my friend and co-worker turned to me and said, “You’re intense.” I thought, “What, me?” I had never thought of it in that way, I always thought about it in terms of, why not?

My life was movin’ and groovin’ and then this rhyme started to creep into my head, First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Catia with a baby carriage, and I had to stop and reassess. Creating the best environment I could for my relationship and future family became my top priority and something had to give. Knowing it was the right thing for me, for our relationship and for the dream of writing Anna and reaching more people; I put in my notice at ACL Live.

During May and June I hugged the staff more, promised to keep in touch and made sure each team member knew how instrumental they had been in my life, and on my last I cried like a line cook cutting onions. To say that that last two years of my life have been the greatest life has offered me would not be an overstatement.

While eating a Schlotzky’s sandwich, drinking a cold diet coke and laughing so hard I snorted with friends I got to watch Louis CK perform 4 comedy shows standing 10 yards away, AND I got paid for it. I heard Miranda Lambert sing the song, the house that built me.  I got to watch Diana Ross strut across stage and have her huge hair follow. I got to hear the Dixie Chicks belt out Wide Open Spaces while I sat on riser steps and cried my little eyes out because I thought they MUST have written that song about me. I got to hear Randy Travis sing Forever and Ever Amen while my boyfriend wrapped his arms around me. I was able to host my parents in a fancy suite when Chris Isaak was in town. Wicked games! Backstage, I spoke with Gary Clark Jr. and expressed to he and his parents that they should be proud they raised such a genuine and humble soul.  And, I was blessed to work with my brother David and the experience was marvelous for reasons told and untold. Two full years at ACL Live were a gift from the universe and from the pied piper, Tom Farace.

Well Sunday the 16th was unforgettable. There were sweet gifts and hugs and well wishes and a going away bash that included cold champagne, grainy Polaroid’s now mounted on my refrigerator and safe cab rides home.

The concerts were cool, but the good stuff, the good stuff you can’t buy. For me, the magic is in bartending team I worked with. The value is in the tens of thousands of high fives exchanged, all the goofy dancing we did together, learning about each other, and all the laughter and joy exchanged (even when the jokes were so gross I’d go into convulsions).  Here’s to all of my favorites there at 310 Willie Nelson Blvd.  I will miss hugging you, giving you high fives, telling dirty jokes with you and asking you if you have any candy.

Folks, the universe will give you what you need when you need it; you just have to ask for it.