Rosie Thomas

Songstress is all heart

'It takes no longer than a moment to realize Rosie Thomas' altruistic qualities. Her demeanor is relentlessly upbeat, her disposition sunny and her outlook positive. Her instant charm and willing openness creates the persona of a mythical girl-next-door - the person who is often overlooked but, once noticed, becomes the absolute be-all and end-all.

Her values stick close to these characteristics. She's admittedly aware of her fears but refuses to be defeated by them. She's bright and funny, but open about her heartaches. She's both the person whom you want to rely upon for matters of the utmost gravity, and also the person you can count on to make you laugh.

Thomas is a self-proclaimed entertainer, recoiling from the label of musician. Her songs are public radio-friendly tunes built on standard folk progressions with despondent lyrics that are still outlined by the silhouette of hope.

She is built upon contradictions. At one moment, she is Rosie, the mild-mannered girl who loves her family and beams with beauty. At the next, she is Sheila, a walking calamity. Her glasses are geek-ish and awkward; a brace adorns her neck. Sheila has not quite mastered the obvious and always knows the wrong thing to say. Sheila is the yin to Rosie's yang, her comic relief.rnSound

schizophrenic? It's not that Thomas is speaking out of both sides of her mouth at once. It's just that she has the parts of a comedian pre-wired into her. At some shows, she appears on stage in entire Sheila, the Gilda Radner-reminiscent wreck of a pizza-delivery girl, garb. As this alter-ego, she plays a few songs and makes a few jokes. Then, she may just leave unannounced and return as Rosie. One never mentions a word about the other.

"Sheila is very spontaneous," said Rosie Thomas. "I never know when she is going to show up. I carry her costume with me in a bag and just put it on at the last minute."

Her path to both music and comedy may have been charted long before her first show or first record. It may have even begun before she was born. It may have begun with her father, a musician and one of the main inspirations in her life. He bought her first guitar - at Rosie's request - and taught her how to play. Their relationship was founded on expressing and sharing these creative abilities.rn"My

dad was in a band in Detroit and they put out a few vinyl records," she said. "As a musician his main source of income was playing music. When my parents got married, they played as duos in restaurants together. They are both very talented."

When she was first booked to play shows, she did not have enough songs for an entire set. So, her father agreed to join her on stage. They took turns playing their songs as well as playing a few together.

"He's awesome," she said. "He's 62 but he's like a big kid. He'll call me at 3 a.m. all excited to tell me he figured out a new finger-picking pattern, or how to play a new Simon and Garfunkel song. I love him."

Thomas says that she grew up on her father's record collection, which was heavily packed with Detroit soul music and folk artists like Bob Dylan. Most of these musicians she came to appreciate as her father explained their "purposes." For instance, he taught her to look past Dylan's voice and to focus on the story he told. It completely altered her take on music.

Of course, not all of those records struck a chord with her. She admits that there are some artists, like Hall and Oates, which she just could not accept. They were just too funny - in a bad way.

While already an aspiring musician, she chose to focus on the "funny" first. As a result, her career did not start in music. It started with her childhood dream, in comedy. During her short-lived standup years, she scored a handful of opening acts for notable comedians, including Mitch Hedberg. It was during her experience with comedy that Sheila was born.

"I grew up thinking the funny girls were all ugly and loud and nobody liked them," she said. "I don't think I fit that role but it is part of me and I wanted to give people both parts of myself. I need to have hope in my life but I can also be a disaster deep down. So, I decided I needed to come out on stage as a completely different person than what I show people. I needed to show Sheila."

During Sheila's set, she plays tragic '80s songs that can be described as nothing but "terrible." Although it has yet to make it onto Sheila's playlist, she promises that Hall and Oates' "Maneater" will soon be there.