Miss Leslie

Letter to Priceline.com

Dear Priceline.com,

I am extremely unhappy. After checking availability for 4 rooms in Ft Worth, I booked 2 King Rooms first. When I went to book 2 Queen rooms, the website showed the hotels where 2 Queen rooms were available. I went to book the rooms at the same hotel, and after entering all credit card information in, the website said that there were not 2 rooms available.

I then contacted customer service to figure out what was going on. I was told that there were not any Queen rooms available at that hotel and that there was no way that I could get a refund for the reservation of 2 King rooms. I explained to the representative that it was unacceptable. I have a band – I don’t need to stay at 2 different hotels. She said again that nothing could be done. I then told her I would never use priceline.com again. I further said that I would tell all my friends and post on Facebook and my website that they should not use priceline.com.

She replied, “That is irrelevant.”

So I am passing along this feedback to you. Your employees do not care whether you lose business. Maybe you don’t care either.Good luck with that.

Best,
Leslie Sloan

P.S. I will be posting this on Facebook and my website at http://www.missleslie.com. 

 

Miss Leslie's Music Included in New Jack Black Movie

Hey everybody - there's a new Jack Black movie called "Bernie"coming out April 27 and May 4 (release date is determined by where you live). 2 Miss Leslie songs are featured in the movie. The songs "Turn Around" from the "Wrong Is What I Do Best" album and "I Can Get Over You" from the "Between the Whiskey and the Wine" album.

I'm really excited about this. In addition to my music, there will also be music from Dale Watson and Heybale in the movie.  There will also be a soundtrack coming out.

I will let you know about the release of the soundtrack as I have more information.

Sometimes I Feel Like An Old Violin

I cleaned my fiddle yesterday. I don’t mean I wiped it with a cloth. I mean I took polish and rubbed years of rosin off of the top – LITERALLY YEARS. I can’t remember the last time I cleaned my fiddle. . . . and I’m not completely sure why I did.

I actually have been thinking about it. . . . and you have to understand, this is weird for me. I am one of those gals that pays little attention to detail and takes care of things on a “NEED ONLY” basis. I am spread so thin it’s the way I have to be. Men in my life have never really understood this (for some reason I am attracted to detail-oriented men). But I would only do half the things I do if I worried about every little detail of every activity of my life. I have learned to gloss over things that are not high priorities. I have learned how to overlook and move on.

This comes at a price, of course. Overlooking means there becomes a buildup of things shoved to the side. Eventually it comes to a head. You HAVE to deal with it.

It’s like the garage. I put old, unused, outgrown things out there. After awhile I have to take a vanload of crap to Goodwill. . . . Or there’s my closet. Old fashions and wrong sizes all get shoved to the back until I have no room for everything. I finally get bags of clothes together to take out to the garage. Ha. And the cycle continues. . . .

I’ve shoved a lot of things down within myself – some of them intentionally. Sometimes kids and relationships demand more of me and I put my Self to the side – shoving her to the back of the closet. And the old feelings and attitudes buildup until I can’t shove them down anymore – I have to deal with them.

I love my fiddle. I love its tone. I love the way it feels. . . . I have to say that I did NOT love the way it looked when I first got it. I always thought it was obnoxious looking – but I’ve grown to love it because it has become a part of me. If I think of the way that I sound when I play the fiddle – I think about the sound of THAT fiddle. I think of THAT tone and no other.

But I’ve let it go. I think at first I thought I liked that more unkempt look that old-time fiddle players have. Their fiddles are old and are not polished or shined. They are covered with heavy layers of rosin from years of daily playing. . . . but I’m not sure that that was it. I think I just let it go. I think I just didn’t care for it. A friend of mine says, “Take care of your instrument and it will take care of you.” I’ve always wondered how much truth there was to that. Maybe there isn’t any.

But there’s some reason why I cleaned my fiddle yesterday. There’s some reason why I wanted to scrub off years of rosin and dirt and the smoke from 1000 bars. There’s some reason why I had a sense of starting over.

Maybe it’s the fact that for the first time in about 3 years I finally have a full-time, consistent band. Maybe it’s that I’m about to start a new album. Maybe it’s that I’m ready to begin a new chapter in my life – personally, professionally, musically.

I’ve never felt that endings and beginnings were clear. Rarely do you have some clear cut ending and beginning. Birth and Death are nature’s beginnings and endings – but are those even clear? We still wonder when does life begin? And when does it end?

Maybe I’ve been trying to peel off layers of my own personal grime and just trying to get back to me – that wood that just sparkles and shines in the light. I want to show this Self – MY own being as I am, not some ME that’s buried under layers put upon me by other people in my life.

Maybe I was inspired by a request from a friend of mine to learn the song, “Old Violin”. As I tried to learn the song and listened to the words and felt the sentiment of the song, maybe it just brought me into myself. Maybe I felt this connection with my fiddle – this connection that is within my Self.

My fiddle shines. The funny thing is that there are still some spots of rosin buildup. The repaired crack in the top will never go away. My blemishes and weaknesses can be strengthened but they are still my weak points. My scars are always there – constant reminders of old wounds. But I love all of it – the spots, the crack, the problems yet to be discovered, the weaknesses yet to be dealt with, as well as the beauty that is easily admired.

 

An Email to a Friend

I hope it encouraged him. I hope that it encourages you. Do what you Love.

Dear XXX: Several years ago, when I had only had my band about 2 years, I played a huge dancehall in Victoria, TX and 13 people showed up. I said, "I should quit." My drummer said, "You could quit. But no one would notice."

Those words have stayed with me - not the part about people not noticing but the reason behind those words. . . . I had to find my reason for doing this. Playing shithole bars. Having zero chance of getting on mainstream radio. Doing whatever I can to expand my audience and always hoping to get to "the next level".

Four albums later with great reviews and festivals in Europe and 2 songs in an upcoming Jack Black movie, I'm still playing shithole bars. I'm still working a day job to pay my bills. I'm lost in a world where there is too much - too much music, too much entertainment, too much news, too much noise.

I've come to terms with it. I've come to terms with who I am. And, like a friend of mine that had 2 songs he wrote in a major motion picture told me, "I just deal with the depression when it comes."

I'm a writer. I'm a songwriter. Whether anyone recognizes it or knows it, it's who I am. I can't quit. It's such a part of me I don't know myself without it.

You are a writer. You are a prophet in some ways - you are a voice for the heart and souls of the artists and in some ways, the audience that has given up on the mainstream. I understand needing a paycheck. I understand the frustration of not being able to earn a living doing what you do best (especially when you do it well). . . although I'm not sure I understand it to the same degree that you do.

The only thing I would encourage you about is what I encourage all of my fans and fellow artists to do - Do what you love. . . . sometimes Life forces us to take on more than what we'd like or alter our plan for Life. But whatever comes along, you have to live your passions.

Good luck. I'm sorry. I rarely respond but I usually hear what you have to say. And, for me, that makes all the difference - I just want to be heard.

Best, Leslie

Amazing Life

You have to understand – I grew up the daughter of a preacher. I’ve been to more weddings and funerals than any 5 people have attended in their lifetime. 

I’m used to funerals. I’m used to that uneasy feeling as you walk in and see people reconnecting and watch the sadness on the faces of those who have loved and lost. I’m used to the preacher’s rhetoric – that attempt to connect the audience with the hereafter and what they will do here on earth to earn their place in eternity. I’m used to the music (although that ALWAYS gets to me). I’m used to the tears.

But there is an unbelievable blessing you can receive from a funeral. All it takes is an openness of heart and soul.They had the memorial service for my friend yesterday. I heard one of the most incredible songs I have ever heard in my life. Julie Turner, played piano while her sister, Janice Carper sang. And it was a song that Janice had written called, “Be Strong, Sister”. It was so well done and such a powerful song for the funeral. They showed a slide show of pictures from Julie’s life.

And I was able to do some powerful reflection. Here I was looking at a woman that had played music as early as she could remember. A woman who grew up playing music with her family. A woman with a close bond to her sister. A woman with 3 boys whom she adored. I saw myself. I felt a playback of my life rolling in front of me. It was such a gift.

And Julie worked for the Woodlands Fire Department, who did a last call at the end of the service and retired her number. It was a powerful testament and honor to Julie. And another moment of reflection of the impact that our lives have on each other.

Julie’s wish was that a musician jam take place after her celebration of life service. And that we did. So many incredible musicians showed up to play and sing. We shared songs and stories. We remembered. We laughed. We cried.

There is a reason that there is more than one person on this spinning planet called Earth. We are meant for connection. We are meant to be together and come together and learn about ourselves from each other thru our experiences.

I had a very rich weekend. I am so grateful. I don’t have this Life figured out. Half the time I’m unsure of my place here and my reasons for being here. But I am grateful for these times of the heart and soul. And for the ability to share them with you.

 

Goodbye Julie

A friend of mine passed on to the next world last night. It was not unexpected. She had battled cancer for years and a few months ago was told that she didn’t have long. She had made her peace and was ready to move on.

Death is still incomprehensible to me. I encountered it very young when I was about 6. A classmate of mine died from a genetic disease. I remember that it was the first time that I saw my mother cry. But the power of a memory is so strong that it is difficult to fathom that that person that is still so real in your mind and heart is no longer here. You cannot grasp that you will not see them again. You cannot understand that you will not hear their voice or laughter or see their smile.

They can’t be gone. 

For some reason I am overwhelmed with a sense of thankfulness. I’m thankful that my life has been touched by so many amazing people. Life is not forever and we will not have people with us always. I try to be grateful for the people that are in my life and the moments I get to share with them. They may not be here tomorrow.

Go rest high, Julie. I have my memories of you and especially the last time I saw you and you had that bright smile on your face listening to my music. You were an angel. Thanks for flying too close to the ground and allowing us all to know you.

 

Midnight Again

So it’s midnight. Again. And I’m reminded of how things come full circle.

I remember the first time that I remember Vince Gill. . . . OK you have to understand that I lived in Louisville, KY from age 3 to age 9. I saw the Belvedere Bluegrass Festival in the 70s at its height. I saw Vince Gill when he was 18 years old. I sang along with Jim & Jesse McReynolds singing “I Wish You Knew” when I was 2 YEARS OLD.

I REMEMBER being in high school and watching the Grand Ole Opry Live with my Dad. Some Saturday night when I didn’t have anything going on with Band or Orchestra (yeah I was a nerd. Get over it). . . .  

And this guy comes on singing with just an acoustic guitar. And I look at my Dad and I freak. This guy is singing “When I Call Your Name”. And I'm blown away. . . .

And he tells the story of how he had been invited to play on the Grand Ole Opry and how much of a dream that was for him. And how he turned them down the first time because his daughter had a kindergarten program. . . . . . . and I couldn’t understand it. Because I couldn’t relate to turning down the Grand Ole Opry ever.

And tonight I’m watching a biography of Vince Gill on GAC. And his daughter is talking about her wedding day and the song she chose for the father-daughter dance. And they tell about that day – 20 years ago. When he turned down the Grand Ole Opry for a performance by his daughter at her kindergarten.

And I thought about circles. And how they always close. And keep going.

And just thought I’d share. Because it’s midnight. And I’m a little sentimental.

And the song? Yeah - it was the same one she sang at that Kindergarten program - the father-daughter dance was "You Are My Sunshine." 

Pass the kleenex please.

 

A Letter to My Fans

Hello Everyone,

Happy 2012. I hope that this finds you all well.

 

I know that it has been a long time since I’ve either blogged or written you an email.  2011 was a tough year for me personally.

 

I took down my Christmas tree the other day. My tree is filled with handmade ornaments. I have one that my grandmother made years ago. I have tons that my kids have made at school through the years. I have ornaments that I made as a child. I have ornaments I bought on my trip to China. If you’ve read enough of my writing, you know me. What can I say? I’m a sentimental, romantic fool. . .

 

But probably my favorite ornament – the one that reminds me of the spirit of the season and the meaning of Life – is the ornament that was handmade by my mother. It is a butterfly made out of construction paper. In 1963, she and my Dad had their first Christmas together. They had been married 4 days. They did not have much money. Both of them were just out of college and my Dad was preaching at a very small church. My mother decorated their first tree with ornaments made out of construction paper. But what I love more about this ornament is that it is torn and taped together. One of my boys as a toddler (probably Caleb) found the ornament and ripped it up. I was devastated. I taped it together as best I could.

 

 

If you have lived your life long enough you look back at the tapestry of life that you have woven and you see the beauty that has faded. You see your scars and wounds that you have done your best to piece back together. You look at your current relationships and realize how much you love them and value them not only for who and what they originally were, but you almost love them more for the struggles that you have survived together through the years.

 

I feel that I continue to try to understand Love. I don’t mean the emotional rush that you feel when you are next to someone that makes your heart melt and your knees go weak (although I certainly understand that as well), but that place of giving and accepting – that place where 2 people’s lives join together and despite the tantrums and the failures and the frustrations, they care about each other on a deep level that goes beyond relational boundaries and personal weaknesses. They care. They see each other for who they are and they truly care.

 

My ornament represents Love. It represents so many people in my Life – friends, parents, children, siblings, and former lovers and partners. I see these people and the wounds we have taped back together. I see the fading of the colors of our faces and bodies. I see the way that they sometimes are barely held together. And I love them.

 

I encourage you in 2012 to Love. Give more of yourself than you have given. Reach beyond your limited view of Life and see the people around you for who they are – human beings just like you. The things you find most frustrating you have within yourself.

 

We live in a polarized world – a world filled with judgement, radicalism and hatred. We can Love and it starts with these threads we weave around our immediate tapestries. It only extends from there.

 

I wish you the best this year and always.

 

"Keep the emails and text messages comin".

 

Thank you for being my fan and my friend. I hope to see you soon.

 

Best,

Leslie

The Light's Still On

From Bob Lefsetz: “You've got to want it. It's got to permeate every cell in your body. Because it's just that hard to make it. The pitfalls are plenty. The setbacks are huge. The abuse is heaped upon you. You must have an inner light that keeps you going no matter what.”

I played a benefit for Julie Turner yesterday. She’s a local honky tonk piano player that has given so much to our musical community. She overcame breast cancer and now she’s battling liver cancer (the horrible sometimes by-product of chemo). A ton of musicians came out to play, to listen - to say thanks and wish her well.

I had a lot of conversations. I met musicians I’d heard of but had never met or played with before. It’s a hazard of the industry. You have gigs. They have gigs. Lots of times your paths never cross – except online I guess. We all ask each other the same thing, “How’s it going?” And you know what question they’re asking – the same one you ask of yourself every day. The same one you make phone calls for and send emails about. My answer is pretty much the same these days. I’m playing but not as much as I would like. I’ve struggled with personal issues that have taken away my motivation for my music career (note I said MUSIC CAREER and not MUSIC. There’s a diff.). Blah blah. . .

I had a conversation about a year ago with a friend who had some great things going for him. He had 2 songs that he had written coming out in a major motion picture. He was doing some cool tours. I congratulated him. . . . and he said something like, “Yes it’s great right now. You just go with it. . . and try to just deal with the depression.”

Life is a roller coaster - for the musician, but for all of us. We start our lives working through the growing pains. We learn to crawl. We get up. We fall down. We learn to walk. We struggle with the explosion of hormones in adolescence. We manage our way to adulthood and wander through a maze of weddings, births and deaths. We struggle with our internal problems and try to love and give up the hate. We battle diseases like depression, alcoholism, cancer, and heart disease. All to work up to the effects of gravity on our bodies and get through old age.

But where’s our light - That inner light that pushes us through the challenges and obstacles and pushes us to LIVE? Heroes and Epics are not about the challenges but about those that overcome them. They are about those who refuse to allow their inner light to go out. They are about those who realize that the challenges are just that – some part of life to overcome. If you’re in that place where your inner light is waning, read some stories of human heroism. You will note in EVERY story that at some point the hero gives up. The light appears to go out. It is then at that point that the light re-ignites and shines the brightest and pushes the hero to overcome the challenge in front of him.

In my day job, I work in the casting industry. I have learned that there are metals that have certain properties that CANNOT be created without being heat treated. Sometimes we have to go through the trials by fire in order to get to that higher place of development and perhaps enlightenment. I cannot walk without falling. I cannot love more without having more required of me, thereby increasing my capacity to love.

Those who overcome recognize the process of challenges, overcoming and growth. But they also recognize the inner light – the one that is sometimes so small that you think that it is still out.

But the light is still there.

It's All About the Music

It’s not about the music. It’s about how many people you bring in the door. It’s about how much the sales are at the bar. It’s about your latest reviews. It’s about where you’ve played. It’s about how skinny you are and how tanned you look. It’s about if anyone’s recorded your song and where it went on the charts. It’s about superficial buzz.

It’s about things that 100 years from now, NO ONE will remember.

But sometimes – sometimes you get lucky and it’s about the music. That feeling in the studio of laying down a great sounding track – you listen to the playback and get chills. You play a festival and the audience is screaming after every song (and they’re not even drunk yet). A DJ calls you because they just got overcome by the album you just sent them. You play a song onstage and get lost in the sounds coming out of your body and the feelings coming out of your soul.

I’ve gotten a little lost in the past year. OK maybe personally, but I won’t go into all of that. . . . except that maybe that’s echoed in my music. I went to the UK and Norway in July and after receiving encouragement to play MY original tunes in Norway, I realized that I’d lost my way a little.

The traditional country music crowd in Texas loves covers. As a friend in Bandera told me, “I can walk into a bar and tell you already what the setlist is. Doesn’t matter who the band is.” Don’t get me wrong. I’m a classic country music superfreak just as much as anyone is. Some of those songs are powerful and stirring. But as an artist that writes songs, there has to be a balance. You have to find a way to be yourself both through those covers as well as finding that way to present your own music. I don’t claim to be Harlan Howard, but I’ve written some songs that deserve to be heard.

Because those songs are who I am. I didn’t write the songs to play in my living room. I wrote them so that they could be heard. I wrote something that I wanted to connect with someone else.

THAT is what music is about. Connection. Sharing. Giving. Receiving. It’s a 2-way interaction of artist and audience. If it’s one-sided, it’s probably a private party that pays well. Money’s good, but music is better. It’s fulfilling, thought-provoking and even life-changing.

Today is a day of affirmation for me - a reminder that I’m in this for the music. No, I’ll probably stay this Unknown Artist in your mp3 player, but that’s ok. It’s not really about me – it’s about the music. . . but then again, my music is me.

So I’ll give a shout out today to 2 places that revived my soul lately – www.tommyalverson.com and www.doseydoe.com. Tommy Alverson is a super guy and great songwriter and singer. The folks over at Dosey Doe are part of the same group of people as Tommy. They get it. They just get the music.

Thanks to both of them for including me in what they do.