Vicky Emerson's blog

One of my gigs when I first got into the music business was playing the piano at the Nordstrom department store in Chicago. It was a great gig because I could play anything I wanted and I definitely had the best shoes that year!

People would stop by the piano and ask me to play “Misty” or “Memories” about 400 times a day, but other than that, I would play my own music and Nordstrom was gracious enough to also sell my CDs.

The gig was a four-hour session, so I would play 45 minutes and then take a 15-minute break. The 15-minute break would usually cost me money since I spent it shopping. However, I would also stop by the ladies’ room to check my lipstick and use the facilities.

My husband had recently been fired from his job due to his drunken insults toward the boss’s wife and he wanted to return to Minnesota. I was just starting to pick up a lot of work in Chicago and I really didn’t want to go back and start all over again. This mattered little to him.

At this point in our marriage, things were starting to deteriorate pretty quickly. Anyway, one day at Nordstrom, I had my usual 15-minute break and made my way back to the piano. About mid-way through my second song, my left hand felt odd. I looked down and discovered that my wedding ring was missing from my left hand.
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I grew up in the Midwest and one of my fondest memories is the beautiful fall weather. Personally, it’s my favorite time of the year. I love the leaves and cooler weather.

My favorite thing is slipping into sweaters I haven’t worn in a year while watching the evening sky turn orange and gold. In fact, my ex and I were married in September because of our fondness for the weather at that time of the year.

Even after our divorce was final, the ghosts of our marriage would haunt me. Even though I knew deep down that I’d done the right thing, part of me still thought of my ex on occasion. Someone would say his name, or I’d see something that would remind me of him and I’d be thrown right back into memories of better times.

I can still remember the morning I wrote the song “Anymore.” I had a gig up in northern Minnesota at a resort. The people who booked me put me up in a beautiful lodge and my room was cozy and it had a whirlpool. Yes, sometimes the rock star perks of touring are nice!
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Hindsight is a crystal clear 20/20 and as I prepare for my second wedding and marriage, I can see the laundry list of things that were wrong in my first marriage. One of them had to be the fact that my ex-husband’s mother loathed me.

It started out as a conflict of personalities. I was normal and she was crazy.

My ex was the oldest child and first to get married, as well as the only boy in the family. She doted on him and made excuses for all his bad behavior. So, when I entered the picture, there was already a female in his life—his mother.

This took me awhile to see because we weren’t around his parents all that much until after the wedding. Then, my mother-in-law wanted to come see us all the time and wanted us to visit them all the time and it was ridiculous. I told my ex that sometimes it was okay to tell his mother, “No.” Needless to say, that didn’t go over too well.

So, one weekend I took it upon myself to say, “No, we’re busy this weekend.” She called me the devil. Sometimes I can turn a blind eye, but hearing that was like being hit with a hot frying pan in the forehead. I went to my ex and he just shrugged and said, “That’s my mom.”  read more »

It’s amazing how old, hurtful memories begin to recede. My mother’s saying “this too shall pass” certainly bears truth. 

Upon reflection, my move to New York City from Minneapolis was more for personal than professional reasons. For several years after my divorce, I played the dating game and truly thought that I didn’t want to marry again. Then, as time passed, things changed. I met Joe, my fiancé, at a wedding almost two years ago.

We were both very single at the time. In fact, the maid of honor was my date. She was also going through a non-men phase and we’ve been close friends since childhood.

The bride was also very close to our family, so I agreed to play the music for the service. It was a beautiful day in August and I walked into the church about two hours before the ceremony was to begin. There were people milling around, taking pictures, smiling and laughing. But as happy as I was for the bride, being surrounded by all those people in love or happy about love, didn’t make me very comfortable.  read more »

I’m moving to another New York City apartment next week and that means going through all the stuff I’ve managed to accumulate over the last few months since I moved from Minneapolis. As I pack, I've discovered a new talent for stacking papers in something that resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

As I went through pages of contracts that need to be filed, I came across a paper from an interesting gig with the words, “NEVER AGAIN.” Here’s why...

A few years ago, when I jumped back into the dating pool, it was as if I had turned on a neon sign that said: “Recently separated, Sometimes lonely, Seeking horny old men.” Now, to be clear, I didn’t put the “sign out there,” but I was consistently hit on by men in their 50s and I was in my mid-20s. I just couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on!

It all came to a head at a golf course where I was hired to play the piano for an event. These gigs are great because you can come in, sit behind the piano, play whatever you want and leave two hours later. For the most part, I’m just the background music for a party.  read more »

I’ve owned a piano for about eight years. It’s traveled to Minneapolis, Chicago and then back to Minneapolis and now to New York City.

It’s a little scratched up, but still running strong…kind of like me. That piano has helped me write sad songs, love songs, funny songs and beautiful instrumental pieces that have helped me sustain a life in music. In a sense, my piano has been my therapist by listening and helping document stories that I set to music to reflect what’s going on in my life.

But as all good things come to an end, I'm selling my piano to a dear fellow who’s just starting piano lessons. I had to replace it due to the types of gigs I’m getting. And I don’t have room for the big piano and a new keyboard.

The piano’s being picked up today. As I write this, I realize that the only constant in my life during my divorce was that piano.

Sure, I have a few items of comfort clothing (a well-stained sweatshirt I will never give up) and my Bunn Coffee Maker (once you go Bunn, you’ll never go back) that have also been constants, but I’m not nearly as attached to them as I am to that piano.

What I'm realizing, however, is the only constant is change. It is with bittersweet sadness that I bid farewell to my therapist with the 88 keys.  read more »

It’s amazing how life throws a curveball and then you find yourself in the midst of change. I have many friends who absolutely dread change. They want to keep everything the mundane same. It gives them extreme anxiety to break out of the routine.

As for me, I would love to keep everything rolling along on calm waters, but life throws the occasional tsunami at me. When I went through my divorce, my parents asked me if there was a moment where I knew that my marriage was over—you know, a moment of clarity.

For me, that moment was the culmination of all my ex-husband’s alcohol and verbal abuse. It just came to a point when I would look at myself in the mirror and wonder, “Where did you go?” It was at this low point that I realized I had to leave.

The song attached is called “Moment of Clarity” from my first album. When I wrote it, I was reflecting on the moment I had when I decided to follow my passion—music. Now, as I listen to the song while sipping my coffee, I find new meaning in it and want to share it with you. Click below to download the song.

Please share your “Moment of Clarity."

The weekends mean something different to me now that I’m touring full-time. Now, Fridays and Saturdays are work days filled with performances rather than time off, which can be a bit of a bummer as this is when most of my friends are available to have some fun!

However, a few years ago when I wasn’t touring so much and before I was married, I lived for Friday nights with my girlfriends. I would sit at my desk on Friday afternoons at my day job and watch the hours crawl by at a glacial pace, all the while praying my boss would come out of his office and tell everyone to go home. Unfortunately, that was a dream more often than a reality.

I lived in Minneapolis at the time and my friends were scattered all over the metro area, so downtown Minneapolis was a relatively central meeting point. We would all park in the Target ramp (because if you spend $25 at Target, parking is free!) and dash over to our favorite Irish bar that always seemed to be brimming with cute guys.

My friend Lisa's a few years older than me and an expert at meeting cute guys. She could scope out a place for prospects, delicately sip her Chardonnay, gingerly apply lip gloss and hold a conversation with five people ALL at the same time. I secretly envied her!  read more »

The other day, I was walking back from the post office and it dawned on me that the first man I dated after leaving my ex-husband had an apartment in New York City. We dated casually, on and off, for a shade under two years until I finally pulled the plug for good.

I remembered that after I left my husband it seemed as if I didn’t know how not to be in a relationship. So, the natural and comforting thing to do at the time was to jump into something else. The NYC guy was my security blanket.

He wined and dined me and traveled the world for work. I thought he was a pretty sophisticated guy! Then, just like a shiny new toy, the finish starts to rub off and you begin to see the “real” person. It took me a little longer to recognize it because we didn’t see each other all that regularly, but my friends didn’t care for him at all.

So, after the split, I decided to write a song about him. Back in Wisconsin, where I grew up, a popular dance at weddings and pretty much any celebration, is the polka. You can always count on a great uncle venturing out to the trunk of his car after a few cocktails to pick up his accordion and get the party jumpin.’  read more »

As I travel the U.S. performing and sharing live music, I meet a lot of people after shows. Since I tour alone, many people give me the ol’, “Are you okay out here all by yourself and don’t your parents worry?”

(Answer: “Yes” and “Heck, yes.”) Some people ask, “How in the world can that humungous keyboard fit in your Toyota Corolla? “ (Answer: "Very carefully.") The occasionally creepy old man will ask, “So, what are you doing after the show?” (Answer: "Calling my father who is rather skilled with a shotgun.") But my all time favorite is, “Can you really make a living doing what you love?” (Answer: "YES.") Is it easy? (Answer: "NO!")

I had a day job when I went through my divorce where I worked for an opera company in the development department. It was a pretty good job and they were flexible when I had gigs at night or on the weekends. Even though I needed the income, I think what I needed most at that time was stability and a new routine. I had to rebuild a life that didn't include my ex-husband and I was determined to rebuild it in a way where I could be myself and never apologize again for the person I am.  read more »