Who needs legs to dance?

I've got another "amazing kid" story. This is why I love my job.

This summer I met a beautiful young girl at a festival in western Kansas who was tooling around the fair grounds in a wheelchair. She had no legs below her knees.

As I started my show, I spotted her in the crowd, and she was bopping to the music as she sat in her chair. When it came time to choose kids to be in a band, she eagerly raised her hand. I couldn't pass her up. She wheeled up and took an instrument with the rest of the kids.

I was singing "Buggy Hop," which has a part that invites the kids to "hop, hop, hop" and "jump, jump, jump." I suddenly became really self-conscious about singing those lyrics since there was a kid right in front of me who clearly couldn't jump like the rest.

Fortunately, I couldn't have been more right. Indeed, she couldn't jump like the rest. She jumped better than the other kids. She grabbed the arm rests of her wheelchair and pushed down with all of her might, and she launched her little body right out of her seat. She doesn't need legs to dance!

I watched her the rest of the day at other performances, and she enthusiastically participated in all of them. Back in our "green room" tent, many of the other performers talked about how moved they were by her spirit.

Yesterday, I met this same girl again. I was playing at an elementary in Hays, Kansas, and I chose her to be in a band without realizing that she was the same girl, since I was in a town hours from where we first met. But she rolled up to me and smiled and asked, "Do you remember me?" Her twinkling eyes gave it away.

"How could I forget you?" I said. And, again, she rocked out to "Buggy Hop", and she danced better than all the rest. And I say that not just because she did it without legs, but because she had a huge grin on her face and lacked the self-consciousness that I could read on the faces of so many of the others. At age eight, she knows who she is, and she's proud of who she is.

The Sweet Smells of School

(This was published in the August issue of Leawood Lifestyle magazine.)

Every time I step into a school cafeteria (which is easily 100 times a year) the acrid smells of sour milk, baked mystery meat, and bleachy cleansers swirl into an unpleasant olfactory gumbo that assaults my brain’s limbic system, somewhere near the hippocampus. That’s the spot where smells trigger memories.

Instantly I’m hurled back to third grade. I’m sitting at the lunch table nibbling on a crumby peanut butter sandwich and an apple, while my friend Steve inhales a “real” lunch of potato chips, a Ho-ho, and a can of Cragmont Lemon-lime soda wrapped in foil. His mother must really love him.

Over in the corner stands George the janitor standing ready with his mop and bucket and a box of sawdust, just in case one of those nervous stomachs decides to heave back its lunch.

Ahh…the smells of school send my mind reeling. Each room and each hallway prompts its own cascade of memories.

Over in the dank and musty gym – the woody smell of the fl oor mixed with rubber and leather and perspiration-soaked cotton reminds me of the single glorious victory we had in five years of elementary and middle school basketball.

In the kindergarten room, the distinctive aroma of Play-Doh, and Elmer’s glue, and the dusty scent of construction paper takes me back to a time when I was five, and my classmates and I sat with our eyes riveted to a tiny black-and-white television screen as we watched Apollo 14 splash safely back to earth.

And in early afternoon, in almost every classroom, nostrils are shocked to attention by the unique clammy bouquet of a gaggle of sweaty students fresh from recess. I’d like to bottle that scent and market it to retired teachers as “Eau de Playground.”

And then there are memories that trigger smells, like purple-inked hand-outs duplicated on ditto machines. Cool and still slightly damp as they come off the silver cylinder – there wasn’t a kid in my class who didn’t kill a few brain cells sniffing that irresistible chemical odor.

But the most hope-filled smells of all come from the supply aisles at the back-to-school sales.

Every August I’d joyfully inhale a stack of brand new school supplies that held infinite promise. There’s nothing that reeks of hope as an unmarked Big Chief tablet and an unblemished Trapper Keeper, or a freshly sharpened #2 pencil and a soft pink eraser. I’d cram what could fi t into a sweet chemical-smelling plastic pencil bag with a zipper that still worked.

The smell of school is in the air. Think of the possibilities!

95 shows of summer!

(A parking lot jam in Lincoln, NE, and, in NM, Willa sings for the first time in public!)

We are in the final weeks of our summer tour, and what a blast it's been! We're on target to do 95 shows in 92 days. So far we've driven thousands of miles and rocked with audiences in Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma. Just yesterday 481 (official count) showed up in Overland Park, KS, for a super boisterous celebration. No better way to beat the heat than to come inside and rock!

And we've still got more shows to go throughout Kansas and Missouri, and in Iowa. Be sure to check out the schedule at www.jimcosgrove.com.

Check out the fabulous video montage of a tour of the Oklahoma City libraries that I did with my band The Hiccups. It was shot by our faithful and talented roadie Casey Friedman. View it here.

Hope to see you soon!

Swim Like a Child!

(This is me serenading the youth of Salina.)

The Hiccups and I performed at the Smoky Hill River Festival in Salina, KS, last weekend. It's a fabulous festival with world-class music (and us) and stunning art work from around the U.S. Very well-run event and a load of fun.

I met two guys from a band from Uganda at the hotel pool. One of them had never been swimming before, and he was bobbing around like a little kid -- splashing and laughing.

He said, "I have always seen pictures of people in swimming pools with smiles on their faces. Now, I know why. This is so wonderful -- better than I had imagined!"

Such child-like joy from an adult is priceless and contagious! It reminds me to keep living on wonder.

Jiggle Jam 2010

The following is an excerpt from a note that my beautiful bride Jeni posted on Facebook about Jiggle Jam 2010. We're still basking in the glow of an amazing weekend. She summed it up quite welll...

"The day after Jiggle Jam was over, Jim and I took our daughters, Lyda and Willa back to Crown Center to play in the fountains. “Where did Jiggle Jam go,” Willa asked.

Jiggle Jam had come and gone. There was scarcely a sign that it had even been there at all. The tents were gone. Decorations and trash had all been removed. Not even a sign of confetti could be found near the stage!

I can confidently speak for all of the Jiggle Jam organizers on this one - Our third year of Jiggle Jam blew us all away. We witnessed so many beautiful things that inspired us to keep this thing going. We provided the environment for a rockin’ festival experience. All four different stages were filled with opportunities for audience participation. We saw so many families playing instruments, singing on stage and showing off their dance moves. But, it truly is the families and musicians who bring the atmosphere to life.

I personally had many moments of “goose bumps.” The first stage most people saw was our Workshop Stage (dedicated to Bongo Barry). Barry’s dear friend, Brandon Draper kicked off the festival with a drum circle. I could hear the pounding all the way from the Jam Stage. I knew we were off to a great start. Barry would have loved it!

Then I knew we had done something right when our biggest crowd sang along to "ABC Gospel" with Choo Choo Soul. My favorite moment was dancing with Genevieve, DC and JJ board member, Amy Hilbrich Davis on stage with our kids during "Do Your Own Dance."

My face hurt from smiling during DC’s “Break-Dancing / Beat Box Workshop” on the Jiggle Stage. Not only are Genevieve and DC fabulous performers, you could tell they were genuinely having just as much fun as the children and adults. That energy spilled out into the audience. Moms, dads and children were inspired to bust a move in the middle of the dance floor.

StoneLion Puppets and Martin City Melodrama gave kids had the chance to be part of the puppetry and theater experience. The Jazz Storytellers exposed children to the sights, sounds and instruments that create jazz music. Terrance Simien and The Zydeco Experience allowed dozens of children to show off their love for Zydeco music during their performance (and almost everyone caught some groovy beads). Richard Renner helped spread humor and laughter to everyone he saw, either through the eyes of his Robot, or from up high on stilts.

As always, Jim Cosgrove & The Hiccups got dozens of kids and parents up on stage to play percussion instruments during all three of their sets. Ralph’s World literally invited the entire audience up on the stage. Ralph has a great following in Kansas City. We had to close off the stage it was so full! The Sugar Free Allstars taught children some classic 70’s moves during “Disco Dance Party.” While The Jimmies got a cool mosh pit going during their beach ball extravaganza for “Cool To Be Uncool.” (one of our favorite songs.) Secret Agent 23 Skiddo, along with his lovely wife, daughter and amazing band members demonstrated how Hip Hop is a family celebration. Kansas City fell in love with this group.

Moms and dads enjoyed classic 80’s tunes during The Zeros’ flashback set, while hundreds of children were invited on stage during the show to have their hair styled in New Wave fashion! The Zeros’ concert was complete with confetti guns, bubbles and beach balls!

Everyone could see, feel and hear the sense of love and community among Kansas City families and musicians during Jim’s tribute to Bongo Barry. Special thanks to Funky Mama, The Doo-Dads, Dino O’Dell, Brandon Draper, Pat Conway, Dean Ottinger, Ernest James, Tim Whitmer and The La La’s for joining Jim Cosgrove & The Hiccups during “Bright Light” and Bongo Barry’s family-friendly version of “Kansas City.”

One of the best interactive additions this year was the Garage Band Tent. It was a huge hit thanks to Keli and John Wenzel, Tye Murpy, and Pat Redd (Funky Munky Music). Imagine a tent set up like "Wayne's World," complete with keyboards, drums, guitars and even cow bells! Families and entertainers came in, plopped down on the couch and jammed to classic rock. Hundreds of children found that spark and discovered they CAN play an instrument!

It’s so beautiful to see a shared vision come to life and grow. Teams of volunteers and staff put in a lot of sweat and love to make this happen. Dave and Angee Simmons take great care of our staff and entertainers in one of the best hospitality rooms around! Amy Hilbrich Davis recruits her army of SEVEN children and darling husband to work the fest. Dan, Linda, Hanna, Amy, Erin Cosgrove make managing all three gates a family affair. The Cosgrove and Davis families define the true meaning of volunteerism!

Jiggle Jam is a family festival, created by families. And yet it’s a great challenge to experience it with our own children. None of us could do this without the help of friends and family who tend to our children while we work hard to make the festival run smoothly. Jim and I have Mimi and Papa to thank. Plus, everyone can always count on my mom to provide Mimi’s Lollipops in the green room.

This note could go on and on if I continue to attempt to thank EVERYONE who makes Jiggle Jam possible. But, the glue that holds all of this together comes from our fabulous Board of Directors and Volunteers. BIG THANKS TO: Keli "Super Glue" O'Neill Wenzel, Julie O'Neill, Pat O'Neill, Jennifer O’Neil, Jessica "Wonder Woman" Julich, Laren Mahoney, Shawn Sullivan Warner, Chris Campbell, Kate Migneron, Candy Tai, Barney "Bubble Machine" Walsh, Kate Migneron, Jana Soper, Paula Busser, Jeremy Roush, Jan Cichello, Kathy McGuire, Julie Beggren, Dan Leasure, Brendan Whisenant, and the entire security and cleaning crew at Crown Center for making the Jiggle Jam Family Experience everything it has become! I am ready for 2011!!!!

Happy Bottoms

A clean, dry bottom makes for a happy baby. And, it makes for happy parents.

Unfortunately, not all bottoms are happy. But thanks to two very cool moms, Jill Gaikowski and Melissa Larson, the world is becoming a much happier place – one bottom at a time.

As the founders of Happybottoms.org, they collect diapers to help struggling families in the Kansas City area. Since November, they’ve collected 36,700!

“I am collecting diapers as much as I can and getting them to those who need them,” Gaikowski said. “Our goal is to coordinate diaper drives that support low-income families through community partners.”

According to their website www.happybottoms.org, disposable diapers are in high demand because:

1. Safety-net programs such as SNAP (food stamps) and WIC (women, infants, children) do NOT cover diapers.

2. Diaper companies do NOT make big donations to shelters or outreach programs.

3. Diapers are expensive and cost exponentially more at inner city convenience stores than they do at big box stores or online.

4. Cloth is NOT an option. Laundromats do NOT allow the washing of cloth diapers. Many low-income families don’t own a washing machine. Licensed daycare centers (esp. free or subsidized) do not accept cloth diapers. Parents must provide disposable diapers.

5. If a family can’t afford diapers, a baby will spend extended periods of time, sometimes days at a time, in the same soiled diaper. This increases the risk of numerous health problems, including diaper rash and may be linked to an increased rate of hepatitis. Not to mention an unhappy baby!

6. Unhappy babies are crying babies. Crying babies are more likely to be abused by an already stressed out caregiver.

This Saturday, you can help families in need by bringing a donation of diapers or wipes to my free concert. There will be door prizes and giveaways, too. Here are the details:

Mr. Stinky Feet Concert
Saturday, April 24
10 a.m.
Cedar Ridge Christian Church Gymnasium
8839 Lackman Rd., Lenexa, KS 66219
(Check out my show dates and details here)

If you can’t make it on Saturday, you can bring diaper, wipe, and ointment donations to any one of my shows from now until I'm too old to sing. Or, you can drop them off in collection bins at these locations:

Deanna Rose Farmstead
Paradise Park
Wonderscope Children's Museum
The Learning Tree (Leawood and Prairie Village)
Children's Orchard (Lee's Summit, Olathe, and Kansas City)
TITLE Boxing Club

We thank you! And all those tiny bottoms thank you!

California diary

I just flew in this afternoon from LA to KC. I had a window seat. I love window seats for this reason: The world looks amazing from 30 thousand feet! And this is one beautiful country.

We took off over the pounding Pacific surf and doubled back over the rolling Hollywood hills, which gave way to snow-capped Sierras...which gave way to forsaken salt flats... which gave way to the lonely high desert... which gave way to rugged (and Grand) canyons and mesas... which gave way to the majestic Rockies... which gave way to the patchwork quilt of the nation's bread basket... which gave way to rolling pastures along the banks of the Missouri... which gave way to HOME!

For the past twelve days I've been in Southern California having a blast as always, and missing my girls. I slept in a big stucco Wigwam, addressed a conference for early childhood educators, performed some shows, recorded a new CD, and met some beautiful people. It's so good to be home...here are some snippets from my stay:

In Alhambra I met a homeless man named Chief Weeping Tree who gave me the coolest gift I got all week. After I slipped him a contribution, he recited for me his poem titled "Silent Plight." The first line is this: "Oh my, how more poor grow hungry every day where the fields weep for woe..." He thanked me by saying how much I had blessed him, when it was he who had done the blessing.

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I spent an hour in the laundromat talking with Roberto, an out-of-work carpenter in his late 50s. He told me how he visits the casinos 3-4 times a week and through much patience and calculation, he works the system of free points, free play, and free buffets to actually make a small profit. After my clothes dried and I was packed up, I gave Roberto a dollar and asked him play Keno for me next time and to email me if he wins. He said he'd have his son contact me, because his son knows computers..

If you ever need a dose of reality, don't turn on the TV, go to the laundromat!

**********

When I asked a group of school kids the other day where they can find rhythm, a little voice shouted out, "Target!" And, of course, he was correct. Rhythm -- wherever you are, there it is.

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As I was loading in my equipment for a school assembly in Fullerton, I was instructed by faculty members not to use the word "kid" or any derivative of the forbidden word. They had me so paranoid that I slipped -- twice! Poor kids will be scarred -- whoops there I go again!

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Some deranged old dude tried to pick a fight with me the other day at Griffith Park Observatory. (The same spot -- oddly enough -- where in "Rebel Without a Cause," Buzz challenges James Dean's character to a fight.) I was on the phone and gazing out at the Hollywood sign when he came up to me and grumbled that I was staring at him, which was "rude" and "provoking." Agreed. I told him I was only provoking the Hollywood sign. Now, move along.

California Dreamin'!!

We are well rested after spending the night in a Wigwam on Route 66 in San Bernardino! It is one of three of the original seven Wigwam Motels in the U.S. (Check out the history of the place here.)

It was kitschy as all get-out. And comfortable and clean and a great blast from the past. Jeni and I were exhausted from a weekend at a fabulous childcare conference on the campus of UC-San Bernardino. I delivered a key-note address to 450 child care providers -- great enthusiasm in that room! Thank God there are dedicated people who are providing a nurturing environment for kids.

We now are sitting in the Crown City Studios in Pasadena tuning up the instruments and getting ready to start recording the new CD! I'll post pics as we go.

Where are we going?

Technology sure makes life easy, but I think it's making me soft.

We arrived in Ontario, California, last night with one major item missing -- our GPS! I left it in the glove box of the van, which is parked at the airport in Kansas City. We're going to be here 12 days, and I was depending on that box to get us around. I feel so vulnerable.

It's not like I'm clueless to navigating. I love maps, and I generally have a great sense of direction. So, last night why did I feel like a lost kid searching for his mother at the mall? Before we hit the streets, we fumbled around with a rental car map, our cell phones, and a phone book (what's that?) until a friendly local dude offered assistance.

I could hear in my mind the sound of my deceased father smacking his forehead and shaking his head in disbelief. He's the one who taught me a love for orienteering. One of the few tangible objects that I inherited from my father was a yellowed plastic box full of maps. There are road maps and tourist maps and mostly old maps pulled from decades-old issues of National Geographic.

One of the many skills my father instilled in me -- in conjunction with that box of maps -- is a knack for getting from point A to point B. As we prepared for the dozens of road-trips we took as a family, he would spend hours planning, plotting, and routing. He loved figuring distances, estimating times of arrival, and calculating miles per gallon. And I loved looking over his shoulder at the scribbles on his maps.

As a young adult I experienced the satisfying rush of hitting the ground in an unknown territory, getting a lay of the land, grabbing a map, establishing my bearings, and sniffing out directions. And as much as I appreciate the convenience of a GPS, my dependence on it has shriveled my nurtured abilities and left me a puny helpless tourist.

So, now we are left armed with the quaint and antiquated tools of a laptop, Google maps, and a Blackberry. How will we survive? Stay tuned...

Calling all Stinky Feet Heads!

The Times They Are a-Changin'...so let's make music!


Dear Friends:

Thank you so much for the overwhelming support you've given me for more than a decade. Please know that I am fully aware that I wouldn't be doing what I love without you.

As some of you may know, the landscape of the music industry has changed dramatically over the past five years. (Check out my interview at Zooglobble.com) As the giant labels have faltered or collapsed with the rapid decline of retail album sales, independent artists have emerged as the leaders of the changing tide. Where some see a shriveled industry on life support, I see opportunity and challenge. And I love challenges.

So, I'm asking you to join me as we embark on an adventure into new territory. I have a goal of raising enough money to pay for outstanding musicians, promotion, production, and a Grammy-nominated producer for my new record. Please help me make this dream a reality. You've already been a big part of my success, so please consider taking part in the production of this project. You'd buy the new CD anyway, right? So, consider this a pre-purchase plan.

In addition to putting my heart and soul into making the best family music I can, check out some of the things we're offering below in exchange for your support.

Thank you for trusting me to deliver the very best for your children.

Cheers,

Jim

Levels of Participation (click on any level you'd like - you'll be taken to Jim's site where you can make your much appreciated donation):

"The Satisfied Fan" ($20) - you'll receive the new CD, autographed by Jim

"The Bargain Hunter" ($50) - you'll receive the new CD, autographed by Jim, a t-shirt, and a bonus CD selected randomly from Mr. Stinky Feet's past albums (all for $50? Yep!)

"Now You're Just Showing Off" ($150) - all of the above, plus name recognition (yours or your child's) and a "thank you" in the liner notes of the new CD (your kids will think you're so much cooler now that your name appears in Mr. Stinky Feet's new CD!)

"Happy Birthday To You" ($500) - You'll receive all of the above, plus a personal phone call from Mr. Stinky Feet to your child on his or her next birthday (unless they prefer a text!)

"We'll Work Out The Details Later" ($5000) - all of the above, plus Jim will come to your house and perform a private concert for your kids and their friends (while supplies last - there are only so many days in a year!)

"Mr. Flexibility Feet" (name your price) - no donation too small or too large!

Sometimes you just need a show.

Yesterday our five-year-old daughter taped a handwritten note to our front window for all the world to see. It reads, "Winter end please. To God. Love Lyda."

That about sums up how everyone in our house feels right now. Just a bad case of the winter blahs. Enough snow! Enough cold! I mean, it's been pretty and all, but enough already!

And today was another one of those cooped-up-in-the-house days. Sweat pants and slippers. Soup for lunch. (Did I even brush my teeth this morning?) Hours of work on the computer, until by late afternoon my head throbbed. I was scheming for a hot shower and early bedtime when Jeni said, "Shouldn't you be getting ready for your show?"

"Show?! I have a show tonight? Holy crikey, I totally spaced it." Some days my head is not in the game, and this was one of them.

I inhaled some left-over pasta and put on my game face, even though the thought of actually shaving and dressing for the day at five o'clock didn't thrill me. As I drove to the show, I gave myself a pep talk and shouted my gratitude for a paying gig.

When I arrived at the school gym, the women from Hickman Mills Parents as Teachers were there to greet me with hugs. (Hugs always help boost my energy -- like spinach for Popeye.) But, they all seemed to be operating on deflated resignation that the cold and snow would keep the crowd away.

At ten minutes to show time, there were about 12 people milling around the gym. The prospects looked bleak. But then people started to trickle in. And more came. Then more, still. We delayed the intro five minutes as families in their parkas came streaming in. Then, another five minutes. There were well over a 100, maybe close to 150.

Finally, I strummed a few chords to grab their attention and off we went. We danced. We sang. We laughed. We rocked. Moms and dads and grandmas grooved. Sisters and brothers boogied. Diapered ones toddled around to their own beat. It was an all-out mid-winter antidote-to-cabin-fever bash!

It's as if everyone in that room blended their voices together in perfect unison to shout to the universe, "Hey, we've got all the warmth we need right here! We've got song! We've got dance! We've got friends!"

Sometimes you just need a show to kick out the blues.

The year in numbers (and photos)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

"Blessed. Blessed, indeed."

That's the answer I would get every time I asked a woman I used to work with, "How are you?" I started to ask her that just so I could hear her response.

It's time to recall the blessings of 2009. There are so many. Thank you to all who helped us live our dream every day. We couldn't cruise the country singing songs without your support.

And 2009 wasn't without its difficulties, sadness, and tears. We attended more funerals in the past six months than we have in the past three years. There are still gaping holes in our hearts from the passing of our dear friend and super-human Bongo Barry Bernstein (photo is from our show together in May), and from the equally sudden loss of Jeni's cousin Greg. Both are child-like spirits who continue to inspire.

Many thanks to those of you who hosted shows and opened up your homes to us this year and fed us and gave us a place to rest: The McLoones, Gjovigs, Skuces, Gogals, Christnagels, Eitzmans, Trices, Carters, Obamas (the Lincoln bed was really comfy), Sedenos, Leahys, Pizzos, Castenedas; Stotzers, Annette O'Connor, Diane Baryenbruch, and Kate Kopischke.

Here are some outstanding numbers from 2009:

13: Number of fish caught and kissed by Lyda while fishing for the first time in Wisconsin.

2: Number of times Jim was mistaken for Willa's grandfather. Number of teeth lost by Lyda in five week period. Number of kids who vomited during a Mr. Stinky Feet concert. Number of times in the same week Jeni saw Bon Jovi in concert.

126: Number of jars of peanut butter collected at shows in December for local food banks.

1: Number of hotel microwave ovens blown open by exploding eggs. Number of breweries toured (Leinenkugal in WI). (No correlation between these items.) Number of raisins removed by medical professionals from Willa's nose.

117: Number of episodes of The Brady Bunch in the complete five-season DVD box set. We've watched all of them.

3: Number of fingers Willa holds up when she tells people she's two.

25,000+: Number of people who attended Jiggle Jam 2009. (The grooviest family music fest in the country! Photo is backstage with Recess Monkey and Brady & Bridget Rymer)

24: Number of boyfriends Lyda collected on tour -- as of today. (Down from the mid-30s in September because she "dumped" some.)

49: Number of shows Jim played in July.

8: Number of days in a week -- Lyda and Willa are huge Beatles fans.

11: Number of requests for a photograph Grandpa Schmidt got while made up like Gene Simmons at the KISS concert.

14: Number of states in which we performed.

16: Number of times the girls rode the Wacky Worm roller coaster at Worlds of Fun.

240: Total number of Mr. Stinky Feet Concerts.

110: Number of times Lyda sang "Stinky Feet" on stage.

18,000+: Number of tour miles.

1.3 Bazillion: Number of hours Jeni spent on Facebook.

7.7 Gazillion: Number of times we'd like to say "Thank you" to you all for helping make this life so wonderful. And it still wouldn't adequately represent our gratitude.

Lessons in Courage

Maddox and me

If I had to choose one thing that is most fulfilling about my career, I suppose it would be the amazing life lessons that I've learned from kids. And there's no shortage of those lessons -- they keep coming.

Last week I visited two spirited and courageous kids at Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. The first was Maddox, an energetic three-year-old with a spine disorder. You'd never know the way this guy bounds around in his wheelchair that he also has a metal halo attached to his skull with multiple screws. It serves as a traction device to help straighten out his spine -- and it seems to be working. We laughed and sang songs and played instruments, and he hammed it up for the camera. Pure joy.

Maddox exemplifies one of my favorite things about kids: They're usually pretty good about living in the moment. You can see it in their cherub faces as you walk the halls of any pediatric ward. They're not worried about the past or the future. Their heads aren't full of the worldly stresses that weigh heavily on us adults. Their "carpe diem" attitudes seem to scream, "Forget about my bald head, let's play! So what if I'm strapped into this chair for a few months, I've got wheels! OK, so my body is like a pin cushion from all the needle pokes, but do you want to hear a knock-knock joke?" I can't say I'd be very "present" (or pleasant) if I were in the same situation.

The next girl I visited was Elise. She's three, too, and is being treated for Leukemia. She'd been running a fever of about 105 for a few days. Yes, that's right, 105 degrees!! As you can imagine, she was a bit sluggish. She was asleep when I came in the room. When her mother woke her, she turned to me and grinned. We sang a few songs, and she asked for the "Slug Bug" song. Up went her hands, shaking them crazy everywhere, as she giggled! Then she rolled over and fell back to sleep. If I had a fever that high, I don't think I'd want to see some goofy dude with a guitar. But, not Elise. Her mom said she's been talking about it ever since.

Please remember all those kids who will spend the holidays in the hospital. Remember, too, their parents who will be standing, sitting, pacing, and sleeping anxiously by their sides. And please remember their health care providers who skillfully and tenderly encourage their healing.

I'll leave you with a great quote that's on the wall of the lobby of Children's Mercy Hospital...

"Skill cannot take the place of sympathy and understanding, for science without heart is ugly and pitiless." Dr. Katherine Berry Richardson

Lessons in Grace

Lisa and son Josh at Arrowhead Stadium

The first time I saw Lisa was in the audience at one of my shows a couple of years ago. She wasn't just another mom with her kids in her lap. Clearly, she was different. For starters, she wore a bandanna that covered a very obviously bald head. But what really made her stand out was her bright eyes, her smile, and her enthusiasm. Not what I expected from someone slogging through the nausea of chemo-therapy.

Lisa and her kids -- Josh and Lilli -- became regulars, showing up at performances all over town. As Jeni and I got to know her, she shared more of her story. First the diagnosis, then the treatment -- 16 rounds of chemo, then the strain it put on her marriage, then the divorce, then the double mastectomy -- followed by 33 rounds of radiation, then the joy of re-emerging health and re-emerging hair. Through it all she showed patience, strength, and determination. Not that there weren't ever a few bitter words thrown it now and then, but almost always she beamed with confidence and enthusiastic presence. I'm pretty sure they call that "grace."

In August Funky Mama and I played a fundraiser for a man who was going through prostate cancer treatment. And here comes smiling Lisa bounding through the door, without her children. Her ex had the kids that weekend, so she came by herself, to "show support," she said.

Then her smile turned to a determined grimace and she said,"I got some bad news yesterday. The cancer is back, and it's in my brain. They found 60 little tumors."

Before I could respond, she took a deep breath and said, "But I start a new treatment on Monday and I'm gonna beat it, because Josh and Lilli need their mom."

As she was heading in to take a seat, she said, "I didn't know you did these kinds of fundraisers. Do you think you could do one for me and my family?"

"You bet I will. Anything to help," I said.

"Good. I want to do it in February."

That was the last time I saw Lisa. She was finally relieved of her pain and led home to paradise by the angels on Saturday morning.

The last time we corresponded via email, she requested that we do the concert whether she's there or not. So, for Josh and Lilli, we're on for February. Watch the calendar for details.

Peace to you, graceful Lisa.

Drug-free Road Tripping (Part 2)

Now we're cookin'! These are the kinds of discussions I like. Thank you for the great feedback on the last post about road trips -- and to those who submitted helpful tips to make family travel a bit less stressful and fully more enjoyable. And it seems I've struck a nerve with "anonymous".

For the record, let me make it clear that everything I state here is obviously my opinion -- take what you want and leave the rest. Those opinions may be...well...opinionated at times, but I have never claimed authority (or perfection) on anything. This is a forum to share ideas. After tens-of-thousands of miles of tears and tantrums, I have found what works for my traveling family. And, like all parents, I know that what works today may not work tomorrow. That's why I solicit other ideas. I need all the help I can get.

And I think most agree that it's best to utilize all possible strategies and tools before resorting to medicating the kids. I, for one, much prefer arguing and whining in the backseat from kids who are expressing emotions than passive indifference from a couple of slack-jawed zombies.

Here are a few of the other suggestions:

Lisa from Milwaukee: "Don't forget audio books -- we've heard some great stories we wouldn't have read otherwise this way. Most public libraries have great selections."

Laura from Austin: "Yep--no drugging or vids! ...Bringing a potty chair (with bag liners) along when they were really young helped!"

Gwyneth from Atlanta: "Nuts are favorites for car food... And carschooling! The girls get so much work done in the car."

Andrea from St. Louis (I think): "My mom used to bring little things for us that she held on to and let us open every hour or so, picture books, coloring pages, ball mazes, small surprises are something to look forward to and keep kids entertained."

My sister Ann chimed in, too, and reminded me that my mom used to slip us a half tablet of Dramamine on trips -- ostensibly to keep puking to a minimum (there were eight kids in the car -- so one small regurgitation could start a chain reaction), but she thinks it was to make us drowsy. So it goes -- I, too, was a child zombie.

And one last tip to calm a screaming baby -- Simulate soothing ocean surf with the radio. Sounds strange, but I'm still amazed that this worked on Lyda for a while. Dial up some static on the car radio and, with the volume nob, turn up the static, then back down, then up, then down. Over and over. (It'll take a minute to get the right rhythm.) Before you know it, you're sitting on a virtual beach. It calmed her down and saved me several times when I thought I couldn't take it anymore.

Happy travels...Cheers!

Please, don't drug the kids!

Last week a Facebook friend posted a question about how to keep a toddler occupied and happy on a long road trip. A few of the responses were startling, but not at all surprising.

Two of the comments to the post recommended using Benadryl to sedate the child to ensure a peaceful journey. Another person suggested sugary snacks. And another gushed over the fact that their kid didn't make a peep the whole way because he had a DVD player with headphones to pacify him.

We travel thousands of miles every year with our five and two-year-old. The girls have been on the go since birth, and we've never had to resort to drugging them to keep things sane.

Think about this: How often do you get uninterrupted time in the same space with your kids? Think of the possibilities! You can actually talk to them and laugh with them and play games and sing and learn something about their personalities. This is a great "teaching moment".

Make a space in the back for one parent to comfortably sit with the kids. And you don't need to sit there the whole trip, but every once in a while climb back there and read. Sing. Color. Perform puppet shows. Play games. Ask them lots of questions. This may sound exhausting, and it is. But who said parenting should be a spectator sport?

And think about the memories you are creating. Do you think 20 years from now your kid is going to say, "I remember that trip to grandma's when I was five. That was the 23rd time I watched 'Little Mermaid'. I'll never forget it!"?

Things aren't always easy going, but here are a few other tips we've learned in the last five years that have worked for us:

Kids adapt to whatever schedule you adopt. Ease them into a long road trip by getting them used to being in the car for extended stretches. Weeks before your big journey, take them on a couple hour-long drives in the country -- make them outings to a pumpkin patch or an apple orchard.

Break the trip into two hour chunks (unless they're sleeping, then plow ahead!). Stop every 90 minutes or so for a bathroom break. Stretch your legs. And realize that a seven-hour Map-Quested journey will take closer to nine. And give up the dream that you can make the kind of time you did when you were 20 and flying solo and peeing in a cup.

Offer healthy snacks. And I don't mean chips and pretzels -- those are carb heavy and quickly metabolize into sugar. Pumping a kid full of sugar and strapping them into a car seat for a couple of hours is child abuse. I'm befuddled by the parents who do this and then don't understand why their kid is cranky and can't sit still. "She ate a whole bag of Skittles! She should be happy." Balance carbs with protein like nuts and cheese and organic yogurt (no high fructose corn syrup, please!). Leave the candy and soda on the shelf at the store. Bring fruit instead.

Limit the video pacifier! You don't need it, really. Kids are pretty resourceful and can learn to entertain themselves -- but it takes you to teach them how. OK, I admit we have a portable DVD player. We went three years without one and then sparingly introduced it when we were gifted one. On long days (five hours or more) we limit viewing to one DVD. On short trips under three hours, we don't use it.

Take care of yourself. If you're rested and well-fed, you're happy. And so the kids will be, too. When you're getting bleary-eyed, a roadside break and a brisk walk is better than a latte in the long run.

I'll blabber about this topic more, I'm sure. Please send your ideas about what works for healthy and happy road trips.

Self-serve Peace

Today is the International Day of Peace. If only every day were Peace Day. So, what are you going to do to be peaceful today?

I'm thinking that trust and respect are pretty reliable cornerstones upon which to build a peace-filled world. I discussed respect today with a hundred-or-so school kids from Spring Green, Wisconsin, and I asked for three examples of ways they can be respectful and promote peace.

"Do your homework," said a fourth-grader. And the other kids agreed that this would create some peace with teachers, parents, and themselves, because they just might learn something.

The next mischievous-looking kid said, "Don't chuck rocks at birds." Pretty much all were in support of refraining from chucking rocks at people, animals, windows, moving vehicles, (or anything for that matter) as a decent move towards respect.

The last suggestion was from a kindergartener who simply said, "Type." After a bit of cross-examination she came out with, "Like on a computer." And the group decided that typing a letter to your grandma or typing a love note was a pretty good way to promote peace.

So we just need to round out these great suggestions for respect with an example of trust. And I found one -- a particularly impressive exercise in trust at a small farm on a gorgeous country road on the outskirts of Cumberland, WI.

















Hustad's Sugar Bush makes and sells 100% maple syrup. They've got a little gift shop right there on their property east of town. But when the Hustads aren't around, they have a self-serve window where you can grab some bottles or jugs of syrup and leave your check or cash.

I love this kind of trust. Just pull what you need off of the shelf and put your money in a slot in the wood. And, if you need it, there's a little plastic container with some one-dollar bills and some coins where you can make change.

I'm guessing that for the few times they've been ripped off, the Hustads have made up for it by the stream of customers who have left extra money just because they were impressed that they were shown respect enough to be trusted.

Wouldn't we all be better off with this kind of trust? I'm a strong believer that if you live a life of trust, you rarely -- if ever -- get burned. And even if you do, you can rest knowing that what goes around, comes around. Call it karma, call it what you will.

If only we all had the peace of mind and the trust of a Hustad.

Stinky Feet Ice Cream...Mmmmm...

Mr. Stinky Feet has now been immortalized as a creamy frozen confection. I feel like I've officially "made it." The generous and creative folks at eCreamery in Omaha have made, not one, but two flavors of ice cream in my honor. Who wudda thunk?

The Hiccups and I performed at Dundee Day in Omaha last weekend. Dundee is a groovy historic neighborhood in Nebraska's largest city -- lots of beautiful old homes and cool shops. It's a great fest and we had beautiful weather. Many thanks to the folks at Dundee Bank for sponsoring our show.

To top it all off, Abby and Becky at the boutique ice cream parlor eCreamery (on the corner of 50th and Underwood) decided to honor our appearance by offering "Ooey Gooey Stinky Feet" as their special flavor of the day. It's vanilla with swirls of gooey caramel and fudge. Then they sent me home with my very own pint of "Stinky Feet - Special Edition," which is a lemon sorbet with coconut shavings (non-dairy for my discerning constitution).

These ice cream goddesses do most of their business online at eCreamery.com. You've got to check out this site where you can design your very own custom flavor and have it packaged with a custom label and shipped to your favorite ice cream lover as a super-thoughtful gift. What a cool idea! They are sweet culinary geniuses.

With a name like "Stinky Feet", it's got to be tasty! Ask for it by name.

Bongo B: Keep on Drumming!

When Bongo Barry asked a crowd of a thousand people at the first Kansas City Jiggle Jam to start chanting the phrases "Charlie Parker plays jazz" and "Really great barbeque", I thought he was nuts. And he was nuts. That's why I loved him.

He was nuts about music. Nuts about people. And nuts about life. Bongo Barry could get anyone to sing or dance. He had the talent and the passion and, most important, the genuine love for his fellow humans.

Barry unexpectedly left his earthly body today to take on his next spiritual assignment. A shocking and devastating blow to all who love him, including the children's music family in Kansas City.

He was a truly beautiful, loving soul who included everyone in whatever he did. He was the only performer I know who would bring enough instruments to a show so everyone in the audience could participate. Really! He had tubs and tubs loaded with oodles of drums, egg shakers, and film canisters full of beans.

And here's a classic example of the whimsy and love he sprinkled on our world...He recently made a road trip to western Kansas for some shows. Along the way he stopped at highway rest areas and left behind colorful plastic percussion egg shakers with his name and website printed on them. This was no marketing ploy, it was another example of Barry sharing the gift of rhythm with the world. And that's what he did best...share. He gave and gave and gave of himself, always. Including his sweat. He perspired more than anyone I've ever met. After every show -- soaked to the bone. I'll miss those sweaty hugs.

And I'll miss seeing him at the winter solstice party leading the singing in his Santa hat -- the only Jewish Sufi I know who also celebrated Christmas and solstice. He celebrated it all. Imagine the drum circle forming in heaven right now! No doubt, Jerry Garcia is jammin' with him.

To you, my dear blessed Soul Brother, I send my love for a swift and rhythmic journey!

Are you rich?

Kids ask a ton of questions. That's one of the reasons I think they're so cool. It's part of their drive to quench their insatiable thirst for learning.

Today kicked off the school assembly season for me. And, as always, I look forward to the barrage of questions from curious little minds...

Is that your real name? Do your feet really stink? Why don't you just take a bath? Eeewwww...do you really have bugs in your basement? Are you telling the truth about that dinosaur dancing in his underwear? Have you met the president? Are you Miranda Cosgrove's dad? Are you famous?

Most of the time I just smile and nod vigorously like a well-oiled bobble-head. But there is one question that sends my noggin into overdrive every time I hear it...Are you rich?

Many kids assume that since I carry a guitar and have my name on some CDs that I must be rich. Anybody who has been interviewed on TV by the local weather personality has got to be famous.

"It depends on your definition of 'rich'," I tell them. "By my standards, I am very rich."

I do what I love, and I love what I do. I get up with my girls every morning and read them stories and cook them breakfast. I sometimes get to nap with them after lunch. I play for a living. I get to travel around this great country and sing with kids. I've got food in my belly and a roof over my head. My family is happy and healthy. I own an automobile that works and another that sometimes works. I pay taxes, and I had a dental appointment this year.

That may not sound very rich to some people, but it sounds pretty well-off to me.

(Here's an ironic aside... A financial planner has been hounding me for months to become his client. I finally agreed to meet with him, and once he found out how much money I make, he hasn't called me back! Now, that's rich.)

If I'm ever feeling down about money and or some perceived "lack", I just plug my seemingly meager salary into a world wealth calculator (check it out here -- you'll be amazed) to be reminded that I'm living like a king compared to most people on this planet. I'm among the richest 3 percent in the world, and I'm 55 times wealthier than a billion people.

Humbling indeed. Blessed indeed. I am livin' the dream.