Sunday, November 8, 2015

now i know how the promoters felt...

Take no offense... I am only being honest.

There was a time when George Jones would not show up at one of his own shows...
I'd hate to be that promoter. 

money - time - calls - trying to get the radio and papers to talk about it...POOF-BAM-POOF The unwanted call... 

he's not coming... or no phone call. 

George's stupid reputation preceded him.

No-Show Jones was the name. He was better at it than Axl Rose. I am sure there are plenty patched walls in those old theaters he played in with pencil marks with a circle and "this is when the Possum didn't show up" arrows pointed towards it. 

He soon lost it. Everything. 

THEN someone helped him. Can't recall who. 

So how does this pertain to me?

Uh yeah - no one calls. no one shows up. everyone bails. I have to start over - 45 - reset everything. Cause someone died. Friends I thought I had for the past 20 I didn't share with my husband.


I'm waiting on my someone that helps me. I had one guy already do the best he could. I will remember his name on my death bed. Will yours be on it? 

I say that sarcastically cause 1-I didn't ask for it. 2- I don't think I should have to do all the work. It's been 6 months. I should have had friends in place right? Ready to go when the shit hits the fan. Well... hindsight is 20/20 - easier said than done. Whatever. 

See you around. Your silence is loud and clear.
So my sage advice? Get your own. 

Thursday, October 29, 2015

I never got my bagel or coffee

Woke up at 3AM with Steve Ray Vaughan's song "The Sky Is Crying" in my head... 
Right at the time my husband laid down 6 months ago to die. I was told it took about 2 hours to happen. So at 5AM I fell back asleep and I had the most beautiful dream.
I dream in color all the time.
You know when you see people in your dreams and they look so healthy and good like they were supposed to be all along? 
Yeah, that's what Steed looked like. Thin, blonde shoulder length hair dressed in all black. I dreamt that we were sitting on a couch in a coffee house like a brick/loft building. Not a Starbucks. Just talking nothing important. 
Some people were causing a scene and I went back to the counter asking for my bagel and cream cheese and coffee as if it had been forgotten. 
"No, it will be right out..." I was told. 
Then we walked into a church that used banquet chairs instead of pews. I thought I saw Steed's old friend Al Pesto in the back. 
I asked Steed "Isn't that Al?" 
He didn't seem to think so or maybe he didn't look. 
We sat down and someone that looked like Kevin Federline came up to Steed and said "time to go" and took his hand he floated up to the ceiling. I tried to go with him, but he let go of me. 
It was like those scenes in a movie that the people in the photo are fading away? 
I floated back to the floor and cried on the church chair seat as the preacher waited for me to sit in the chair. Like everyone else. 
Then I woke up to another song in my head that I have now forgotten. 

PS- I thought I lost the last photo of us on my phone and I had no recollection of 'deleting' it until I went to my recently deleted and recovered it. Whew. 

PPS - I never got my bagel or coffee 

PPS- Nor have found my Nashville photo scan disc 

Monday, October 26, 2015

I love this better than anything...

Dear 6 months.

You not quite here by calendar standards but it's coming soon.

A little less than 3 more days.

It's been 6 months.

It seems like it sped by...

Vinyl, Roswell, Athens, Buckhead, Aisle 5, Nashville, Houma soon to be Chicago...

then at home in DC for Chrismas.

Those are my stepping stones.

It will be 6 months in a couple of days.

It was - ten days ago it was gonna be 6 months. Wait? What? I am in the now not the past...

I refuse to be pinned down. I have accepted my weight, my height and my age.

Maybe not that order... but I am working on being alone. I don't care anymore what people say.

These are just things I think at 2AM.

Or 3 in the afternoon.

Or after a few glasses of wine...

I wanna go. I need to stay. I am hungry. No no not another bite. I'll pop like a tick.

This is not going to become me. Death isn't pretty. Wearing black is. So I refuse.

I ain't scared now, but I might be in 6 more.

How do I mark the milestone, a pebble in the Chattahoochee? a good meal? a drive around the block?

Lord knows I can throw...

"So kiss me and smile for me..."

#sleepbetter #gettingthere #waitingforthesun

Friday, October 23, 2015

Someone called me a mermaid...

When Patrick Henry stood up and said "give me liberty or give me death" he must have been speaking about his wife right?

When something is taken from you, a person, a burden or responsibility or a bill that has been looming... you have a rush of relief come over you. A sudden feeling of freedom is now at your feet.

You don't have to worry about it. Anymore. Until the next one. Right?

Yeah. This sense of freedom is something alright. It comes with guilt. So I start over analyzing it. I cry and get angry at myself.

Then I hear and see others react over their own dealings in the same light and I think thank God I'm not like that. So I learn from others and myself to mold my own path. I take what I feel, what I see and hear and throw bread crumbs on the ground to hopefully find my way back. If I want to.

I don't think I want to go back - I will glance around. But no. 

I have others look at me square in the eye and say; "I get it." Meaning you have to be strong. Tall. Not afraid to cry. And laugh.

I have one friend who has given me a key. A new key to unlock a new door. He doesn't know it. He gave me my first guilt trip for having a good time. It was a weekend of full on laughter. I am his biggest cheerleader - think of the Will Ferrell and Cheri Oteri skit from SNL. He's tall and I am short. So I wear high heels around him.

I call him from the parking lot. 

I have another friend that has been with me every step but from hundreds of miles away. We've cried, talked and he told me he put the memory in the icebox. His wife told me too. I don't get it why but maybe a frozen in time thing? We are more like Gracie Allen and George Burns.

I call him Bubba.

Friendships have changed and evolved - come and gone. Friends who once didn't understand my present past - but now get it. That is probably my biggest validation or gift.

I only speak to one friend of the memory and I feel bad about that. But is it really a bad thing?

I have few local friends that I can call. They are new. My old friends are there, but not around. Maybe were never a friend. Just someone I knew in passing. It's hard to start over with stuff. Some things are the same, some are brand new, but always evolving. I don't know if I will get over it but I will get through it. I love the feeling of being. I used to love routine. Now I can only wait and see.

As my sister friend said one night, we are given a gift to be happy again.

I have a list of things that we wanted to do that has now turned into what I want to do. So if I looked like I am shopping a lot. I am. It's called Retail Therapy.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Words to talk about

"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.” 

He would sing at night while I slept, he would play during movies, ball games and in hotel rooms til the front desk called. He didn’t have an angelic voice, he had his voice. He asked a 100 times what does it sound like and I would always say “like you.”

He was always most happy talking about music, writing about music and singing about music. He loved to talk to my clients about it, talk to his friends about it and make mix music Cds to share what he thought was the best. He would come back with some kind of insight from talking my clients and I’d share it with my then boss, and we’d understand our work a little easier. He was still doing that til that Tuesday morning hours before he died while editing a press release.

At times, music had to be put on the back burner for it wasn’t a smart choice at the time for a full time occupation but he kept writing and dreaming of the day he would he get his music heard by all. He wanted validation that he was good like of us, approval from other musicians counted. He would dissect their opinions and read between the lines. 

A legendary music producer told him once, ‘never put two songs in the same key in sequence” and then something that was so abstract, til the day he died he still couldn’t figure it out. I told him, he liked it. I promise, that’s his way of telling stuff. He had praise from around the world but still at times, he felt like no one liked it. A true artist is never satisfied with anything.

I remember he had sold all his guitars, mandolins, amps, pedals cause his job had given the staff a pay cut, a 30% one but I made him keep one acoustic. I always made him keep one. He wanted to smash it, kill it and not look at it. There were days he didn’t want to believe he could do it. I told him no that’s like cutting off your left hand; you have to have it to write.

He told stories, jokes and one off comments. We were in Macon, GA, at a client’s show and as we talked to the side of the stage in the back he told the cop who questioned us,  back there he was a serial killer…

He could talk your ear off with music and baseball and always leave you with your hat in your hands when came to politics and religion. Not to prove he was right, he had a way of showing you how to look at it. 

He had a wealth of knowledge for he told me “If I could be a professional party goer – I would.”

Friday, July 24, 2015

Taping My Mouth Shut

It's been about 3 1/2 months. And I'm learning to be uber quiet and not say a word to anyone about how I feel. I have to be careful. Shit flies around blue skies.

People talk. People walk.
Friends aren't friends.
People don't care. They just wanna be paid.

So I've arrived at a crossroads in this. Do I lash out? Be honest? Or just keep my mouth shut.

I am afraid I have to mix this one up and it all depends on the physics' advice. Put it in a box. Save it for a face to face. A guilt trip? A big let down? I dunno. I will see what the therapist says on Monday. I am sure I am fine. Just a tad disappointed.

I see my future as bright as soon as this astral energy goes away for now it's screwing with my mind. Makes me think horribly about people who are probably just too busy. I hate that. I mean I am too... but at least I call back. Sigh.

For instance, I have a huge 'crush' not a romantic one but just smitten with a new friend (a year or so old) who is so busy that I think he's not paying attention to what vibes he's sending out. I love him dearly, but I get that sinking feeling you know? I wanna walk into his office, slam the door and feed him a cupcake. Crazy it sounds, but it's a real true feeling.

I have another friend who has gone through the same thing as me, not as permanent but close. She gets it. But all she can do is what I did for her - pay attention. She had a similar situation where the ladies in her office wouldn't even invite her to lunch. They would walk past her and go. She was very hurt. I hope something hit them on the way out the door.

People are stupid. I am dumb. I get it. There's no way around it... oh wait there's that bottle of ....

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Never ask a woman how much she weighs...

I'm not 800 pounds I'm like 115...

Never ask a woman how much she weighs... it's insulting. Ask her what colors she likes, patterns and fabrics. Maybe even designers. 

Never assume I'm gonna crash your party to the ground. I will if you want... but I don't want that so I will laugh, giggle and dance just like you. 

But I can level the playing field in 2.3 seconds. 

Never think "she's covered she's got plenty of friends." I would love to be your bridesmaid. Really. All 10 weddings. Let's just find a dye-able dress. 

I am not bad luck to have around. 

I will be your pocket piece, your cardinal, hawk and dove. 

I love being alone but not 'alone' ... Give me the chance to turn your invite down cause I've already gotten one earlier. 

I do the best retail therapy sessions around. 

Don't say "call me anytime" and not mean it. That's disgusting. 

The one thing you gotta remember, this is like a bad debt hanging over my head, a foreclosure in the newspaper or a tailgater locking bumpers on a two lane road. But it's all in my head. It's not in yours. 
It follows me everywhere. It creeps up on me anytime. And sometimes, it makes me mad when I'm met with silence. That hurts more than "I'm so sorry... anything I can do?"

While I want to be treated like usual. I don't know what that is, but I do know is, I'd rather not be reminded of the stuff in my head out on the street. 

This will be hard. I know it will be. Even though holidays didn't mean much but laying around catching up on sleep and watching movies, it looks like I'm in the dark for a while. 

And by the way, let me bring it up, not you.