I made up a new word! + Sarah Palin Disease
Current mood: lethargic
I've been laid up under the weather lately, not doing much more than going to work, struggling to get through the day without face-planting onto my keyboard or into a kid's book, then heading home to my couch or bed with whatever TV on DVD is handy. It sucks. I miss everyone. However, I guess I can't complain too much since I got to go to North Carolina for a few days to see a slew of my family. That was nice. There was river swimming. :)
I really am dying for a visit to Austin, hopefully in about a month.
Anyway, I really just wanted to say hi and see how everyone is doing. What's shakin? Fill me in? (Seriously. Type!)
LOVE & GUITARS, Erin
P.S. -- Next Mitten show is Saturday, Oct. 4 at Cal's downtown with some kickass touring bands, including Boxcar Satan from Austin. I guarantee fun. We hit capacity last time, so plan to get there early.
P.P.S. -- Earlier I meant to type "glitch" and instead typed "flutch." That's a funny word. I wonder was it means. . . . [Checking dictionary.com] . . . It means nothing! Hooray! Ladies and gents, we have a new word. What shall we dub its meaning to be? Suggestions?
P.P.P.S. -- It just hit me that I got sick almost exactly at the moment Sarah Palin came on the scene. Coincidence?
Hope to see you at the bar at 9 tonight. I won't be staying late, so get there early. All your drinking shall goeth to a fabulous cause -- Open Books. Woo!
LOVE & GUITARS and thanks again to everyone who sent b-day wishes (y'all are the best!), E :)
P.S. -- Season 2 of Gossip Girl continues tonight. Thoughts on the premiere? (That last scene freaking killed, didn't it? Who's watching with me?) XOXO
I have to say, for a couple days there, I genuinely forgot tomorrow was my birthday. A minute ago I saw it on my work calendar (since we get our b-days off at Open Books) and I was like, "Whoa! Oh yeah!"
Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who came out to the Bottle on Monday. It was my favorite show there yet! I hope you all enjoyed the Mitten debut of "Teenage FBI."
In what is now a birthday tradition, the one and only Thax Douglas wrote and read a poem for my b-day show. I like that it includes kindergarten:
THE HIDDEN MITTEN No.3 a gunpowder pinch of life sprouts more spirals, like a kindergarten class you have to find activities for, more than you know what to do with- all you can do is keep exploding while the spirals cloud the sky with celebration.
For my real b-day tomorrow, I think I'm going to chill out. Yeah. Chill out. But if you're up for A) live band karaoke this week or B) Danny's Tavern for the FREE Open Books Peace Party on Monday night, I would LOVE to see you.
Anyway, here's to almost not being 30 anymore, WOW. And to more than 30 years of the best friends and family in the world.
Good morning! Thoughts on last night's speech, anyone?
Also, did you see this guy? I got teary just watching him again on Youtube this morning.
Barney Smith forever!
See y'all Monday night for my birthday show at the Bottle. Bring your single friends. I'm in a match-making mood lately. ;) For real. Two awesome friends who met at my b-day party last year are moving in together as we speak. I think I should make it a tradition!
See you soon! LOVE & GUITARS, E
P.S. -- Anybody with a car want to go to IKEA on Sunday afternoon? I need shelves bad.
I hope Sarah and Amber won't mind if I share some of their report from what sounded like an appropriately phenomenal service for Danny Young on Tuesday. Thanks so much to my family and friends back home for taking me with them in spirit.
Photos from Sarah:
Amber wrote to me:
They handed out a program, and on the front is Danny's picture and what I think it a picture of a piece of notebook paper where Danny wrote down a quote from Wordsworth:
"Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind."
It was one of the most moving funerals I've ever attended, much like your dad's. And like your dad's, it was in a large place that was packed to the brim with people. . . . people were standing up against the wall too. . . .
So, the funeral started off with the pastor talking about how Danny had talked to a friend two weeks before his death about the new Bob Dylan album. He said that one of the songs, "When the Deal Goes Down," summed up his life. They didn't know exactly what it was that Danny thought summed up his life, but the pastor quoted the last four lines as being representative of Danny:
"In this earthly domain, full of disappointment and pain You'll never see me frown I owe my heart to you, and that's saying it's true And I'll be with you when the deal goes down"
Then they played the song. Needless to say, I was crying already, as was the suited old man next to me, who cried throughout the funeral.
Then one of Danny's friends, a Reverend Norman Roe, talked about the Danny he knew and about how Danny was a family man. He talked about how Danny reminded him of John the Baptist because he caused people to repent, not in the negative sense of the word that people subscribe to it today, but at the root of the word, which means to rethink. He said that just by living the way he did, as an example and not by demanding that someone repent, Danny managed to inspire people to rethink things about their lives.
He told a story about how he and Danny were going home from Baltimore to Texas for Christmas break, and Danny insisted that they stop to see his grandparents in Ohio even though it would be 2:30 in the morning and they were in a hurry. The other guys didn't really want to because they didn't think that much about spending time with their own grandparents, let alone someone else's, but when they got there, Danny's grandparents were so great, preparing them a feast and generally being wonderful and caring, that none of the boys could stop talking about it when they left a couple hours later. And it was the last time that Danny ever saw his grandfather, who was a little younger than Danny when he died. Reverend Roe said it caused him to rethink how he thinks about family."
Amber -- amazing friend and writer that she is -- goes on to tell about a slew of people who spoke (including Danny's young granddaughters and friends from all areas of his life) and the wonderful songs that were sung (like "Danny Boy" and "Amazing Grace"). It sounds like Danny got the memorial he so much deserved.
Thank you, Amber and Sarah, for being the incomparable friends that you are. And thank you, Danny, for reminding us the impact one true, genuine, good-hearted person can have on the world.
P.S. -- Anybody want to be an Open Books Buddy this fall? We actually have new neighborhoods and time slots, so check 'em out! I would love to have you on the team, and I guarantee it would be a highlight of your week. :)
Today is Danny Young's funeral and the five-year anniversary of the day my dad went into the coma. More than anything, I wish I had a time machine to go back and be with them again (and to have a defibrillator with me). But since I can't, I'm going to start with some little memories I don't want to forget.
Dad . . .
- the way you used scatter pennies on the driveway for Meg and me to "find" - that you would let us pull you up on the roof deck to watch our "Going Gets Tough" dance routines - the way you answered the phone ("uhzjioasfbaknckuakhe?") - when I was little and you'd turn a simple bath towel into a turbo drying machine - pretending to hear hoofbeats on the roof at Christmas - lunches and dinners at Fran's, Texicalli, the Tavern, Guero's, Matt's, and of, Aunt Luby's - the incident with Papa Pete and the banana boat - the way you danced at Suzi's family reunion (and pretty much any way you danced when it wasn't country, hee) - the time you took aerobics - "I bet you didn't know I was a rock-n-roller" - "Many of you may wonder . . . " - "Just call me Mountain Dave . . ." - when Meg was born and we went to get her a present in the gift shop together - your hair, standing up like crazy, every morning - OMG, when you would BBQ! - the "loud" shirts you'd wear when you were using a leaf blower by the pool - playing bacci ball and using the tickle defense in basketball - everything you ever did or said when Pete was in hospice - everything you ever did or said when I called to tell you I was about to have an adventure - everything you ever did or said, period.
Danny . . .
- the way you lit up every time your friends came into Texicalli - THAT JACKET OF YOURS - your hugs - the day you had The Personals play for SXSW - Jovita's with Cornell Heard Band and the SA Crew - the look on your face when you played the washboard - the way Cornell would tell stories about Danny Roy on stage - spotting you around town in that awesome car - queso fries, milkshakes, "that salad," and the Dixie Red Hot - spending my 21st birthday lunch with Dad at Texicalli, talking about how we'd all go help with Austin Smiles someday - when you called a few months ago and the joy of seeing the name "Danny Young" on my phone in Chicago - wow! - graduation party with the girls and the fam at Texicalli - going to Texicalli and to you for comfort when Dad was gone - just knowing someone like you exists.
I love you guys. Danny, I am there in Austin with you and my mom and Sarah and Amber and everyone. I'm just so sorry I'm not there in person. I can only imagine the fanfare. You deserve it all.
Dad, years schmears. You are ever here to me. I just wish I could hug you and see you in those boots and old jeans and shirts with your monogram on them again. I want to dance with you. I want to hear your twang and your laugh. I want us to all be a family again, the way it used to be. I want to see you with Meg's daughter, to go to the gift shop together to pick something out for them. Memories are just not enough. But thankfully there are so many good ones, big and little, that you left here. Later today, when I get to another computer, there will be photos, too.
Danny and Dad, give each other big hugs for me in honky tonk heaven. You are sure as hell missed down here.
LOVE & LOVE, Erin
Currently
listening
:
Back to the Barrooms
By
Merle Haggard
Release date: 2006-08-22
Home safe - after airport evacuation & Richard Marx sighting!
That's what I said, Richard Marx.
It's good to be back in Chicago, even if it's unrealistic to try to get home to Austin tomorrow where I want to be. (Thanks very much for the kind words yesterday, Mike. Your support means a lot. Sending hugs to Oklahoma . . . )
Nothing changes the sadness about losing Danny -- tomorrow night I will try to write about him as he deserves -- and I suspect it will be days before I recover from today's heinously long travels (which started with Patrick, me, and everyone in the Hamburg, Germany, international terminal being evacuated for 2 hours because of a botched deboarding of an incoming Egyptian plane ... UGH).
BUT! Even in my jetlagged, zombie-like state, I was able to look up as we shuffled into the maze-like U.S. customs line at O'Hare tonight and find myself a few weary travelers away from THIS MAN:
I knew it was him -- I would know that face and that oddly tall hair anywhere -- but on the other hand, I kept thinking "He looks exactly the same as he did when I was in 5th grade, so maybe it's just some guy who looks like Richard Marx." THEN I WATCHED THE VIDEO ABOVE. WHOA! I'm proud to say, after reviewing the ancient '80s evidence, that I can confirm my favorite balladeer from when I was 11 has made some serious hair improvements since then.
I really did NOT recall just how batshit crazy his hair was back in the day! (Sidebar: "Back in the day" = the time when my mom, despite MAJOR begging, wouldn't take Meg and me to a Richard Marx concert because it was on a school night but she would [AND DID] stand in line with us forever to get his autograph at Sound Warehouse after school AND THEN get up early the next morning to basically watch Richard Marx and a K98 DJ eat huevos rancheros at Trudy's during some morning radio show event).
Anyway, way to trim the hedge mullet, Richard. 2008 looks good on you. :)
I am also thankful for the part of my brain that blocked out high-waist, bunchy, acid wash jeans and extra-long, folded-over, silver-tipped belts. Though, now that I see them again in the video, I fear I am in for some wacked out dreams tonight.
Now, in the spirit of being true to yourself (something to which I've been giving some in-depth, Renaissance-man-era thought lately), I will say that "Hold on to the Nights" totally holds up for me, and in an only slightly cheesy way. I am downloading it for my iPod as we speak. :)
What can I say? This kind of silly, embarrassing declaration should surprise no one, especially since I admitted a couple years ago in this very blog how much of a sucker I am for the overly dramatic black-and-white concert/tour power ballad video. That category also includes Exhibit B (which is, according to the Youtube user, "very beautiful music!!!"). Am I forgetting any key exhibits here? Oh, and and while it goes black and white on occasion, I would like to take this moment to say I think the director of this video for one of my all-time favorite songs totally missed the boat and should've gone for the melodrama of live footage and still photos, too. Then again, maybe Nugent could rally the Damn Yankees to rerelease "High Enough" as a live 2009 version, a la the undeniable awesomeness of these 2 eternalfaves. That would rule.
Man, a Richard Marx and power ballad videos blog? Not what I expected to bring home as a souvenir from Germany!
Well, hope you're all most excellent out there. It kinda sucks the way Myspace has fallen off the radar a bit this year, since I enjoyed hearing from friends this way (and blogging more myself, when I had more time).
Then again, I suspect I don't really have the stomach to read all my badass rocker friends' comments on my reawakened love of "Hold on to the Nights." ;)
I wish that I could giiiiiiiiiiiiive you moooore, whoa -oh-oh-oh-oh, Erin
P.S. -- I also shared a Heathrow hallway today with that guy from Shawn of the Dead, Simon Something, but seeing as how I'm the only one in the world who found that movie lacking in the humor, romance, AND zombie departments, that encounter is relegated to the bottom here for undead and/or airport-celeb-sighting completists.
Currently
listening
:
Richard Marx
By
Richard Marx
Release date: 1991-11-05
Danny was a friend to everyone in South Austin and beyond. He was there for me and my friends in good times and bad for more than 20 years of my life, and he was and will always be the best of what it means to be a friend, an Austinite, a musician, and a human being. Texicalli was as home as a burger joint could be and no one played the rubboard like Danny Roy.
I ache to be home with my Travis Heights friends and to go to the service with our extended family. When I get back to Chicago tomorrow I will see what I can do about that.
But no matter what, like my dad -- a fellow admirer and friend of Danny's who died of an unexpected heart attack at South Austin Hospital just as Danny did this week, who also left behind legions of loved ones and wonderful memories -- Danny wouldn't want too many tears. As I spend my land day of vacation in Germany, I will imagine Danny in honky tonk heaven with Dad, smiling down and reminding everyone just how much joy there is to be had in life.
Danny, we love you and I promise you a proper rememberance when Iäm not stunned as hell in a train station coffee shop.
lethargic
