The Nadas

A Post About Nada (N)

You ever have one of those nights that on first blush seems generic and forgettable, but ends up being a defining moment in your life?

This story is about how I discovered one of the primary soundtracks for my adult life.  Completely by accident.  And for the bargain price of $5.

It’s January or February 2000.  Some friends and I have taken a weekend road trip to Ames, Iowa.  Technically, we were there to watch a basketball game, but realistically we were there to check out the bar scene in a different college town.  I was just a few years removed from college, working my first professional job, and quite single.

We made our way into the Ames bar district and checked out a couple of places.  After a while, we headed down the hill towards one of the bigger and better known places, a bar called Peoples.  We had been there before and knew it was a good place with a lot of people, and likely some live music.

It was probably 10 or 11 on a Saturday night, and there was a big line outside.  We stood in line for a while, but it quickly became clear that we would not be getting in any time soon.  That’s when our friend Shane appeared and said that if we gave this guy five bucks he’d sneak us in a side door.  A few seconds later, we were inside.

We headed to the bar and got drinks.  Now, since a) this was 14 years ago, and b) I had been drinking some of this is a little cloudy, but at some point, I started paying attention to the band that was playing.  They were pretty good.  A few beers later, they became really good.  At the time, I was huge into Led Zeppelin, so when they played this Spanish number, with a trumpet that transitioned into “Stairway to Heaven”, I was sold.  This band was awesome.

Somehow, I managed to remember the name of the band – The Nadas.  When I got back home, I found their website and ordered one of the CDs, “New Start”.  I was very pleased to find out that their recorded music was as good as their live performance – and that my ears didn’t have beer goggles that night in Ames.  Many of the songs dealt with growing up, loves loved, and loves lost and it really connected with me.

Fast forward a couple of years.  I have the same job, a serious girlfriend, and a growing collection of Nadas CDs.  One Saturday in 2003, I planned to take my girlfriend to her first Nadas show in Omaha.  Before we left the house, I proposed.  Not surprisingly*, The Nadas are one of my wife’s favorite groups too.  One of our first dances and a married couple was to a Nadas song.

*I’ve joked that after proposing, I probably could have taken her to see a band playing death metal versions of Barry Manilow songs on accordion and she would still have a fond memories of the band.  But it didn’t hurt that they are really good live.

In the decade that has followed, so much has changed in my life:  different jobs, different house, losing loved ones, welcoming children, and so much more.  But the Nadas have been there throughout, gracing me with a new favorite album every other year.  Pretty much every other group that I listened to back in 2000 has been broken up for years, but the Nadas are still going strong (this is their 20th year).  Their music is a go-to choice in our house, to the point where their most recent CD (“Lovejoy Revival”) hasn’t left the CD player for about eight months.  Our oldest two kids (5 and 2) know most of the words – although the five year old always wants to hear “Pizza Button” – their cover of the Rolling Stones classic “Beast of Burden”.

Sure, they’ve gone through some line-up changes.  There have been various musicians who have played with them over the years – and honestly, I’ve lost count of the number of drummers they’ve had – but the heart and soul of the group, singers and guitarists Jason Walsmith and Mike Butterworth have remained.  I’ve often felt they are an yin and yang, but their balance just makes the music that much better.

I’m fascinated and amazed by how they have stuck with it despite a lack of commercial success* and the inherent challenges of being touring musicians in an age where people expect to get music for free (he typed, while streaming Spotify).

*The most telling anecdote of why the Nadas are not a household name goes like this:  Playboy magazine named them “The Best College Band You’ve Never Heard Of”, a designation that should have led to increased exposure, new opportunities, and chances for greater success.  But, they never really had the chance to capitalize on that title.  The issue came out a day or two before 9/11.

But I really dig and respect how they have embraced new methods to stay relevant and bring their music to the world.  Think of some of the things your favorite bands and indie artists do today (owning their own record label, using Kickstarter pledge campaigns, organizing fan cruises, streaming live shows to fans, recording live shows for sale after the gig ends, and more).  The Nadas have done those things, and probably did them years before they became commonplace.

For the Almanac record, they wrote, recorded, and released one song per month for an entire year.  You could subscribe to get sneak peeks, watch streaming jam sessions, and other content.  The resulting album is still one of my favorites.  For their 20th anniversary, they are doing a “greatest hits” album with a twist:  the tracks were chosen by fans, and the songs were re-recorded for the album.  I’m very excited to hear a new spin on some of my favorites.

I could go on and on about my love for this band, which only seems fitting as they continue to go on and on.

I’ll close with an old favorite, “Dancing Lucinda”:

*   *   *

(Author’s note:  Wondering why there is a random letter in parentheses in the title of this post?  Not sure how this post corresponds to the daily letter in the April A to Z Challenge?  Like clicking on links?  These questions are all answered here.)

I’ll Wait Forever

Author’s note:  This post is partially inspired by a writing prompt on  The prompt was simply to “Write about open adoption and time.” 

It also presents a good opportunity to share a song from one of my favorite bands.  Stick with me…hopefully it will all make sense in the end.

*   *   *

Whenever we have shared news with family, friends, and co-workers about being in an adoption process (i.e. somewhere between filling out that first form and when we see our child for the first time), the conversation inevitably turns to time*.


“How long?”

This makes sense as adoption does not track time on the same clock as traditional pregnancy.  The path of the adoptive parent (foster, domestic, international, etc.) along with a plethora of other factors all play a role in speeding or slowing the adoption clock.  If you don’t know somebody who has been through adoption, it’s tough to understand why some adoptions take weeks and others take years.

*The cynical side of me thinks these conversations gravitate to time so easily because time questions are much safer than the questions people really want to ask:  “Why?”  and “How much?”  But I’m getting off track…


Ask most adoptive parents about time, and they’ll tell you about The Wait.  The Wait is the stretch of time between reaching the summit of Mount Paperwork and the tearful bliss of Gotcha Day.  The Wait can be a few days or multiple years.  The Wait is rarely in any hurry.

Nine months seem like a long time to wait for a baby, but with traditional pregnancy you have a date that you can point to.  A date you can circle on the calendar and count down to.  A date you (and your employer) can plan around.  People in The Wait do not have the luxury.  The Wait hates planners.

For most people, The Wait sucks.  Yes, there are lots of adoptions that take far less than nine months, but you usually have no idea of that going in.  The Wait loves to keep you guessing.  For both of our adoptions, we entered into The Wait with a vague timetable of “anywhere between six and twelve months” before we would be matched*

*Okay….before we go too much farther, I need to have full disclosure.  This is not going to be easy for some of you to read, but if I’m going to post this on an Open Adoption blog site, I need to be open.  Here goes:

Our “wait” between the time our agency sent out our profiles (i.e. when we were considered waiting) and the phone call letting us know about a potential match with our daughter can be easily measured in days.  That you could count on one hand.  Even if you only had four fingers on that hand.

Yep, our profiles went out on the Friday before Memorial Day (2009) and I received the call from our agency on the day after Memorial Day.  It’s okay if you want to hate us – I’m pretty sure I would be insanely jealous with hate if we had spent years living with The Wait.  If it helps, I had emergency back surgery before we could take placement…but that’s another story for another day.

There is no secret formula for surviving The Wait.  Our agency encouraged us to consider ourselves “paper pregnant” and go through the mental and physical processes (baby showers, nesting, preparing a nursery, etc.) to get ready for our child’s arrival.  For the most part, that is what we did throughout the process as my wife (correctly) assumed that we would be matched early.

But what if our long weekend of a wait had truly stretched into The Wait?  Do you try to put The Wait in your pocket and go on living your life?  I can see how detaching yourself from the stress and uncertainty of The Wait could be a viable survival tactic to avoid the anticipation and anxiety from consuming you.  Or is The Wait always there?  Some days it lurks in a corner, just barely visible, while other days it stands squarely on your chest?  I just don’t know.

I think we can all agree that The Wait sucks for most adoptive parents, but my opinion is that it is even worse for parents adopting internationally.  First, there is all of the bureaucratic red tape that exists between two countries.  Second comes the anxiety over the country itself – will it be free from war, disease, natural disaster, or governmental instability.

But the worst part would have to be accepting a match to a child and (depending on the country/program) receiving a picture or some video of your child.  Then you must wait another six months before you can hold him in your arms.  That is just The Wait being cruel.

So for those of you currently in the midst of The Wait, or for those who remember how fun it was, I’d like to share a song that I wish would have been around when we were going through the process.  It’s called “I’ll Wait Forever”.

The song is by The Nadas, a longtime indie band from Des Moines, IA, and appears on their new album Lovejoy Revival.  To the best of my knowledge, nobody in the band has an adoption tie, and judging by the other tracks on Lovejoy, the song was not intended with an adoption slant.  Yet, every time I listen to “I’ll Wait Forever”, I cannot help by think of our two waits, and how the end results were worth every agonizing second.

I’ll wait forever.
‘Til you come true.

I’ll wait forever.
For you.

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