The following is
an email from Folklahoma
(Posted 6-7-02)
I have a message for
you from the Therapy Sisters:
Dear Clients and
Colleagues:
At long last we're co-facilitating another
Oklahoma City group session. Been too long! We
hope you can join us next Friday, June 7 at The
Blue Door, 2805 N. McKinley, 405-524-0738, 9 pm,
$15 (sliding scale). You may like our old songs,
but we've got gobs of new ones since we saw you
last and we'd love to sing 'em for you. And as an
extra incentive, we have a true life shaggy dog
story to share with you during the show.
Yours for a song,
Lisa & Maurine
www.thetherapysisters.com
Check out their
website. You can see their pics, hear their songs,
read their stories.
And a special bonus for Folklahoma readers, an E-interview
with Lisa and Maurine. I asked them about their life,
love and livelihood. A shorter version of the
interview is in the June issue of the Herland Voice (www.herlandsisters.org). Here's the whole thing.
When did you "quit yer day jobs" to
play music? What made you do it? Are you happier now
that you did it?
LR: Several years ago I quit my day job as
director of Out Youth, a gay and lesbian youth group
I co-founder in 1990 when I graduated from social
work school. Out Youth’s motto is: There is only
one you for all time; fearlessly be yourself. Being a
“professional lesbian” and coming out daily
for eight years saved me thousands of dollars in
analysis and helped me fearlessly be myself. The
organization needed new leadership to grow to the
next level, and I needed to play more music. The
timing was right for both of us. Now I feel like I’m
doing what I was born to do, make music that moves.
And people actually show up, listen, and buy CDs! Mae
West said, “Too much of a good thing is
wonderful!”
MM: That was in 1997. Step one was for Lisa to leave
her job and book as much music as possible, to test
the waters. I stayed on one more year at the
Department of Human Services, but every minute of
vacation time was used for the band. It was easier to
quit in order to have more time and sanity than to
stay and have benefits and more money. We live more
simply now, but the simple pleasures are the best.
What made you do it?
MM: We agreed that the worst that could happen
was to have to get another full-time job. So we
decided to try it and have the experience, even if it
was for only a short time. That was five years ago
and I don't see us going back to the cubicles. The
highway is our cubicle now. But I haven't given up my
day job as a translator. I do it freelance from home
or on the road now, thanks to the Internet.
Are you happier now?
MM: Yes, I certainly am. I set my own schedule,
work in pajamas or Halloween costumes, spend quality
time with our dogs, and shop when the rest of the
world is working. All of those are liberties I
cherish and would find hard to give up in exchange
for security.
What’s the best and worst part of being on
the road all the time?
LR: We’re both homebodies and we love our
Austin nest, especially in the Spring, and it’s
hard to leave our dogs with our housemate for weeks
at a time. But being on the road is a wonderful tax-deductible
way to visit our friends all over the country. And
what a great excuse to be New England Leaf Peepers in
September and Florida Snowbirds in January. A couple
of Thanksgiving Days ago, while driving down
California’s Highway 1, we stumbled across a
herd of elephant seals napping on the beach. We
stopped, pinched ourselves, gave thanks, and relished
our Thanksgiving dinner of turkey sandwiches and
cranberry juice.
MM: Every dimension of life on the road has its flip
side. I love visiting coffeeshops all over the nation
and sampling their espresso and goodies. But it's
hard to make time for exercise to get rid of those
goodies if tour days involve a drive of 12 to 18
hours. Yet those long drives give me plenty of
uninterrupted time to translate. However, I can
translate better at home with access to my legion of
dictionaries. When I'm home I tend to hole up, garden
a lot, and read incessantly. Being on the road forces
me to socialize more than I would naturally, which in
the end I enjoy. We make an effort to see local
sights and to patronize locally owned establishments.
There are wonderful people all over the country, and
we're lucky to get to meet them. We bring the dogs
when we can, and when we can't, we miss them
something fierce.
What's your favorite gig or gig story?
LR: A mighty memorable gig for me was last year’s
show at the Ventura, California Unitarian Church
which overlooks Ventura Bay. It was standing room
only, full of lesbians and Unitarians and a few
lesbian Unitarians, all so attentive and appreciative.
Our host, Tom Best, served chocolate covered
strawberries and champagne, and it was my birthday.
Gigs like that raise the bar. But then every OKC gig
has been a favorite. There’s something magical
about that city and we’re always eager to get
back and see our Okie Folkie pals.
MM: We turned a show into an art therapy session at a
restaurant in Austin. We supplied each table with
markers, crayons, and PlayDough, covering the table
tops with butcher paper. As the crowd sang along,
they were sculpting and destroying clay figures of
key people in their lives, and drawing all kinds of
maps and pictures and lists of changes to make. After
the show we collected some of the papers for the band
scrapbook. I felt we truly performed some therapy
that evening.
Do you have more or less freedom of expression as
a duo than you did with a larger group?
LR: You’re a little more naked as a duo and
I miss those extra harmonies. But we do get to play
more of our own songs. And since we live together, it’s
easier to schedule rehearsal and travel is certainly
simplified. I’ve been writing more songs in the
last few years since the odds of their getting
performed have significantly increased. A duo is just
close enough to the frightening prospect of solo that
it feels like living on the edge. I had a couple of
recent confidence building experiences. I performed
alone at the South Florida Folk Festival songwriting
contest and won best upbeat with “I Need A
Stalker.” And then Maurine recently took sick in
the middle of a set and I finished it alone. It’s
not as much fun as playing with somebody else, but it’s
safer than hitchhiking across the country alone, and
I survived that too. I figure the better I feel about
myself individually, the more I have to bring to a
relationship.
MM: We have more time to play our own songs now, but
I miss the possibilities for harmony we used to have.
We occasionally perform with Therapy Sisters Emeritus
like Mary Reynolds and get a bigger sound back. Mary
Reynolds spoiled us.
Any advice for how to maintain a relationship?
What about living, working and traveling together all
the time, is that a good thing?
MM: I attribute the longevity of our relationship to
our trust in the wisdom of aphorisms. I always
remember that when God slams a door he breaks a
window. Or that thrift is a great virtue in ancestors.
Or that when all else fails, say, "I love you"
and "You're right."
LR: Back when we both had day jobs -- and mine was
often a night and weekend job -- we saw way too
little of each other. We have our mutually
exasperating moments, but for the most part, I feel
mighty privileged to get to live and work and travel
with my favorite person. Maurine is more fun than a
Gameboy and vastly more entertaining than cable.
After 20 years, there are still plenty of days when I
wake up just to see Maurine’s face and marvel at
what comes out of her mouth. Living with her feels
like Christmas. Sometimes that means stress and debt.
More often, it means life is full of surprises,
wonder, good cooking, and great music. Ask us in
another 20 years if we’re sick of each other.
I don’t feel qualified to give relationship
advice. Especially since, on balance, I think I’ve
had the much better deal. But our latest song reveals
my philosophy on the subject:
Life’s too short not to use the good dishes
Life’s too short to have to be right
Life’s too short not to grant your own wishes
Life’s too short to stay mad all night.
In 2000, we were in Provincetown, MA playing with The
Fabulous Dyketones. We took advantage of our
proximity to Burlington, Vermont to tie the knot up
there and sing our song about that for the folks in
the town clerk’s office. They’ve since
referred us to reporters and statisticians and other
Knot-Tie-ers throughout the country with whom we’ve
made connections. We even got an LA Times cover story
out of it.
But so far the best celebration of our union was our
20th anniversary party last December. With gal pals
playing and singing all day and night long, it was
like a mini women’s music festival. You’re
all invited to the next one.
**************************
The reason we sometimes refer to "dog" and
sometimes "dogs" is that we haven't gotten
used to being a one-dog family. little bit died while
we were in california.
