We Gather Together

My computer works.

Not a particularly noteworthy announcement from a blogger, I know.  But being without my computer for weeks makes these words sing off the screen with all the vibrato of a Wagnerian soprano.  Sing it with me, “Maaaai com-pu-tor wo-(trilled r)-ks-ah!”

With more crashing fatigue than its user, my machine refused to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time until finally deciding to take a two-month-long nap.  I don’t know what woke it from its slumber, but it seems to be up to working 85 – 90 % of the time now.  I’ll type fast just to be safe.

I’ve had these few months to consider the tortures virus writers should endure.  I naturally find cruel and unusual punishment abhorrent, but my recent fantasies have included images of stripping said offenders naked in public where they’re met by Lorenzo Lamas and a laser pointer, Charlie Sheen and an Epilady Classic, and Joey Lawrence and over-the-counter cans of spray tan.  Although I can’t be certain it was a virus that caused the trouble, it still seems good policy.

Anyway, I’m happy to get to post something before Thanksgiving arrives.  Fingers crossed, I’ll be back with more after my tryptophan-induced holiday rest.  I hope you enjoy my new arrangement of “We Gather Together.”


– Anita, Noted in Nashville


I’m Anita

Genesis I'm Anita Noted in Nashville

I’m Anita.  If you believe everything you read in yearbooks, like the one I’m seen signing in this picture, this eighth-grade version of me is sweet, sweet, sweet, nice, pretty, a great friend, a good listener, sweet, sweet, and a wonderful singer.  If you believe my favorite middle school English teacher Mrs. King, I’m also a good writer.

In the high school and college years to come, Mrs. King’s opinion was shared by other English and writing teachers.  I wrote.  I wrote to please my teachers.   I wrote because I was asked to for a grade.  My focus, however, was music.  I was a singer.  This was my identity, my obsession, and my future.  It’s perplexing that it never occurred to me to combine these two pleasures until I was in my mid-twenties.  No one had asked me to, and I’m a bit of a rule-follower.  I thought song-writing was for, well, I didn’t know who wrote songs . . . radio fairies maybe.

When I moved to the Nashville area in 2005, I did it for the music.  I called myself a song-writer by then, but not without wincing.  I was going through a “major life change”.  This is what I used to tell people until I realized that everyone knew this was code for divorce, or “D-I-V-O-R-C-E” as one of my friends used to say in a whisper.  This was the year my life really began.  I fell in love with Tennessee that year, and I fell in love with the best song-writer I’ve ever known.

I’ve been a private voice and piano teacher for, perhaps, too long because you know what they say about those who teach.  (Nothing but a misconception that I’ve allowed, over time,  to become true.)  This is why I began this blog.  I’m here, cyberly speaking, to do.

I’m probably not as sweet as the girl in the above picture.  I’m definitely not as thin, and I haven’t tucked in my shirt since 1996.  I hope I’m a better writer.  Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from this site, but please don’t take offense when I say I don’t care.  I do care that you enjoy it.  But I have a feeling I’ll be doing most of the learning this time, and maybe even proving Mrs. King right.