Recently my human Mom left her computer within bunny reach so I started skimming the Crow Women website, mostly to find pictures of bunnies. As I scrolled through, I stumbled upon a very interesting blog post by Alane Crowomyn called “Pagan Music Tips: Planning a Rehearsal Period.”
When I read the post, I would have laughed heartily, except I’m a rabbit. We don’t laugh. We wiggle our noses. So, considered this post wiggled.
I’ve been to a lot of Crow Women rehearsals (I can’t help it, they just show up here and I can’t reach the front door knob). Perhaps on occasion they are somewhat like the rehearsal structure described by Alane.
More often, they look more like this:
Bring Stuff to Rehearsal
I cannot believe the amount of stuff that these Crow Women bring to a two-hour rehearsal. I mean, I know I travel light (I’m a rabbit), but I even think most humans tote around less stuff than these singers.
A typical pile of Crow might include:
- Purse
- Plus another bag, usually canvas
- Computer, preferably with a half-eaten apple on it
- Water bottle
- Stack of pictures
- Notebook
- Lots of stray paper
- Rattles
- Kazoos
- Guitar or ukulele
- Bottle of wine or mead
- No bananas
About half of this gets left after rehearsal and retrieved at some point in between the next gathering. They really are crows, stashing their treasures everywhere they go.
Rearrange the Furniture
This is the part of rehearsal that I find the most infuriating. Fine, come over to my house and leave your stuff all over (it’s fun to sniff it). But do you have to take away all my hiding places just so you can drag out your chairs? For some reason, rehearsal can’t happen with the normal seating options available. And I am more than willing to share my floor space. No one ever sits on the floor with me during rehearsal. I feel neglected.
Show Up for Rehearsal…Whenever
I only really know a few points on the clock: morning banana time (7:30 a.m.), evening banana time (9:30 p.m.), and break time (everything in between). I still think I know how to read a clock better than Crows. Especially that Marilyn one. She always seems to be running in 45 minutes late from some other thing. And the Carole Crow is always early. I hear she comes from Another Place, though. Is it called Baive Eeled? Anyway, it’s Far Away.
Speaking of far away, that Alane Crowomyn often forgets to go home when rehearsal is over. She probably just likes spending time with rabbits. Someone said she lives in A Different State. I think the other state is liquid.
Rehearsal Talk
It took me a while to figure out what this whole “choir practice” thing was. From my point of view (down on the ground, remember), it looks a lot like every other time crows gather. They get in a circle and chatter, sometimes one at a time, sometimes all together. Most of the rehearsal sounds like that. And then occasionally that chatter has music to it. So, I figured out that choir rehearsal means “talking a lot about singing and then singing a little.” That makes sense. It’s a lot like a bunny thinking a lot about bananas and then eating a little banana. You have to get psyched up for the main event, I suppose.
Laugh (or wiggle your nose)
One of the most surprising things I learned from Alane Crowomyn’s blog is that rehearsal is Serious Business with a Plan. I always figured it was just silly human stuff, because a good 50% of a typical rehearsal is laughter. In fact, that’s why I thought they were doing it; it sounds like Fun. Turns out, it’s really to Pre-pear.
I suppose that’s the laughing before you get the pear. I hope they share the pear. I like pear.
Move Around a Lot
Recently, rehearsals have changed, though. It used to be the sitting-in-a-circle-chattering. Now it’s move-around-and-change-places-all-the-time. I’ve been watching all that (very carefully—I’m a small animal on the ground), and I believe that is because some Crows are friendlier with other Crows. They like to stand together when they sing. They call this Blah-King. Then another Crow will come along with something else to sing and make the friendly Crows split up. But the friendly Crows are always looking for a chance to stand together again, so they bump the infiltrating Crow down the line. It’s a very intricate dance. You have to see it to believe it.
See a Rehearsal for Yourself
Oh, Mom just told me you can see it. The Crow Women are doing these things called Con-Certs, which she says aren’t really lying to people about breath mints. If you go to a Con-Cert, you’ll see what they Pre-pear for. I guess one is coming up at the Mare-Him-Eat in Albuquerque, and a few tickets are still available. Mom says I can’t go.
But I’ve seen these Crows in action. I bet they still bring a ton of stuff, talk and laugh as much as they sing, and move around constantly. So, my advice: go to one of these Con-Certs and lie on the floor. It will be just like rehearsal.
Respectfully submitted by Roki the Rabbit, sacred mascot of Crow rehearsals