Slip Sliding Away

Oh June and July, you've been hiding, from my life and my blog!

It hasn't felt much like summer this year. It rains constantly. Half of IN is in a flood state. We haven't been able to go camping since the first weekend of May, and with our trip just six weeks away, we really need practice!

Summer 2015 has looked like this:

Memorial Day Weekend, I was a workaholic around my house. I painted the fence around my back yard, I stained my deck, and I planted my garden. I also hosted several people in my artist's hostel that weekend. We also managed to check out my friend Curtis's show "Sidewaze Rain" at OnxyFest.

I had some friends that I haven't seen in a long time over for dinner on separate occasions.

I got an annual pass to Eagle Creek, and we go there whenever there is a window between storms. On sunny evenings, I love riding my bike there after the traffic dies down, staying long enough to watch the sun begin its descent over the reservoir, and pray that the guy who sings and plays banjo is not there to ruin the beautiful silence with his Appalachian songs that would sound fine on the porch of his own house. Just because you know how to play banjo does not mean that people want to hear it when they are out in the park. Some weirdo guy was playing a banjo on the Sheltowee Trace trail that runs through the Red River gorge, and coupled with the hillbillies and grody hipsters bivouac "back country" camping along the side of the river, it made for an unsightly passage. 

I spent a couple of weekends at Larry's, where we grilled, biked, and hiked--and got rained out each time. Twice we've been hiking in the forest when the heavens opened on us--and the green rain was so beautiful and peaceful.

I finally checked off an item that has been appeared on my annual to-do list for several years now:
See Lucinda Williams in concert!

The plan was to couple the concert in Bloomington with a weekend of camping. But guess what? It rained!

We met friends Deb and Brian at Upland and talked so long and laughed so hard that we lost track of time. GA seating would insure long lines and being stuck in the back of the theater, where I would no doubt be meant long lines. Being friendly meant I learned of a super-secret back entrance. Super secret back entrance meant we were 10th in the door. I ran for the stage and did not move from that spot for the next five hours. My throat was like sand, and I needed water, but I was afraid someone would take my spot at the edge of the stage. Larry was a trooper and hung right behind me the whole time, smiling and rocking out. After the concert, I realized he was right under the only working A/C vent.

It was hotter than balls that night. A storm was due but didn't quite land, so the air felt like bricks on fire. After two great opening acts, solo artist Matt someone from Austin, and Lucinda's band Buick 6, I tried to wait patiently for my first ever live-glimpse of The Queen of Lyrical Confessions, the master of the kohl eyeliner, the long legged, husky voiced, oft-rumored-to-be-moody Lucinda from the galley, and when she appeared, I audibly gasped! Thankfully she does not buy into this "make them beg for it" bullshit and didn't make us wait too long.

She started the set without fanfare, "Something Wicked This Way Comes," but seemed visibly agitated, and kept calling out the stage manager (without interrupting the performance.) I started to worry that maybe she was in one of her famous "moods." A few songs in, she finally threw her arms up and addressed us: "Hey guys. I'm sorry. It is hotter than f*ck in here!" She went on to tell us that her husband and sister were in the audience, and played one of my favorites, "Crescent City," a beautiful lyric about her life growing up and around the Highway 20 area of the Delta. It was then that she started to pick up on that vibe of Hoosier Hospitality, and it was a greeting she began to return in spades! 

I've read mixed reviews of her performances. Some have complained of surly, slurry, drunkenness, but I was always questioned that last part. Lu is a perfectionist about her music and her voice, and alcohol is an enemy of the vocal chords. I didn't believe it for a moment. Because she is someone to pour out her heart in lyrics without censure and then work herself into quite a frenzy in the studio, I can absolutely forgive her for not "leaving it all out on the floor." 

I know that for a very few singers, it's the song, the lyrics, and the music--not the production gimmicks and certainly not peacock-ing and posturing through a bombastic performance. She is definitely more comfortable in the studio where she she doesn't have to put her emotions on display.

She surprised me by referring to binder of lyrics for most songs, but later I learned that her stage fright has led her to forget lyrics, and she doesn't want to be in that predicament there. I connect completely with someone who does not love show boating, but who still wants to connect with her audience. As the night went on, she got more and more comfortable, and when she traded her acoustic guitar for her electric guitar, I knew what we were in for:

HONEY BEE!

And she totally rocked it, and then one of the best things that has ever happened to me in my entire life happened. I was rocking out in the front row, smiling ear to ear, loving it all, when she turned to me, smiled, nodded, and pointed at me! Yes, ladies and gentleman, I received the elusive Lucinda endorsement. I'm positive she meant, "I like you, girl!" Her guitarist, Stuart (who looked a lot like Steve Buscemi) was also really friendly and smiled at me all through the performance. I just marveled through his licks and chops, and I think he just noticed me appreciating his talent, and appreciated me appreciating it.

My favorite is when they singer tells you a little bit about how they wrote their songs. She gave us vivid accounts of the stories behind "Pineola," "Drunken Angel," "I Lost It," "Change the Locks," and "West Memphis," and more than ever I was fascinated by her process.

Encore: She sings "The Rising" by Bruce Springsteen.

Second Encore, she lets out this little love letter--"This here, this is so unusual. It's hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sweater, we're sweating our asses off, and you're rocking the roof off! And just a minute ago, we saw a huge cockroach in the galley. This here. This is a rock n roll experience! This is a gift that you're giving to me. We felt your energy right away, and Stu whispered to me three songs in, 'There's something about this crowd. They just really get it.' We needed this so much, and we will be back!" 

Then she added that, in case we're interested, as far as politics go, she's thinking that Bernie is looking pretty good.

We drove home at 1 a.m. after standing for five hours. She rocked us for almost two hours. I don't need to see a concert ever again. Larry was awesome, and became a true fan. He'd never heard of her until a few months earlier when he gifted me with her record Album "Down Where the Spirit Meets the Bone." He asked me to compile some songs that I thought she might sing at the concert so that he could sing along and really enjoy it. He listened to everyone of my CDs, read every jacket and liner note, and every article he could find on her. Like me, he did not like her instantly, but rather she grew on him slowly. It is truly wonderful to share something that is so my pertinent to my life--to my heart and mind--to the person who has my heart. We share a lot of interests, but we've never shared musical tastes. Now we do!

Thank you Lucinda! I can die now!


The next weekend we planned on camping in Yellowwood, but guess what? It rained like a son of a bitch, so we stayed in Indy. We pitched the tent Saturday night because it miraculously didn't rain, and we slept outside, trying to practice for our big trip. It took us a long time to set up the tent, and I had to text our pal Brian several times for tips and pointers. I made some really awesome camp food that I will never be able to duplicate out in wilderness, but oh well. The next day we decided to hike in one of our favorite IN parks, Turkey Run. It was flooded and muddy, and full of bored fat people who, judging by the dumpsters, all ate their weight in junk food that weekend. It was depressing. I really do no like IN camp grounds! They are parking lots of people who just sit there in their chairs and eat and drink. 

The next weekend I had Friday off for Independence Day! We headed to MI to see my family and have a mini-vacay on Thursday afternoon. I made up a dinner of French Meat Pie and Baked Macaroni & Cheese so my mom (who is still recovering from shoulder surgery--note! Do NOT EVER have shoulder surgery!) wouldn't have to cook. Afterwards we took a walk on the beach, or rather, what is left of the beach. :(  The lake is so high that there is almost no beach. 

Fri we walked the pier and Silver Beach and around St. Joe, and tried some wine samples at a new winery. (Not very good, oh well.) Then we headed down to Pier 33 to see if Larry's buddy was Mark was around. We found him on his new boat after we were waiting for him on his old boat, which he had sold. Ooops! It was fun surprising them and hanging out. Then we went back to my folks' house for a cookout then headed to the fireworks in Baroda with mom, Earl, Lori, and kids. 

We had a lot of fun at the fireworks. I never thought I'd say this, but we had to go to Baroda to get away from the white trash on Silver Beach. That place is just getting depressing on Fourth of July. Anyway, it was a really fun show, and we had fun doing some redneck watching in their ridiculous loud trucks. In the distance we could hear a honky-tonkish country-ish garage band, and something sounded so familiar. I finally realized they were singing "Super Freak" and Earl, Lori, and I cracked up. The kids (minus Luke of course, who sat in the car, just so embarrassed at being with his family in such a visible way) and I had a dance off, and we laughed so hard. 

Saturday we we exploring and found a cute little beach in a cute little town called Lakeside. How did I grow up in the area and never hear of it? We walked a couple of hours. Larry got heat stroke or something--dizzy, and nearly passed out. I asked a nearby family for some ice, and they gave us water, fruit icees, granola bars, and put up an umbrella over him. Unbelievable kindness! Once he felt better, we started back (We walked nearly to New Buffalo), when a cop on a four wheeler came up behind us. We thought maybe he was going to tell us on were on private property, but instead he wanted to escort us after the lady who helped us told him that Larry might need some assistance. Really nice people!

Saturday night we went to my Aunt Vickie/Uncle Dave's for a cookout and to visit with Brad and Kari and their respective families. It was really fun because the kids and I played in the alley where Earl and I used to play some forty years ago! I walked down a few houses to see my grandma and grandpa's house, and all of a sudden started crying. A lady came out and asked if I needed something, so I told her why I was crying. She was so sweet! She said that years ago, an old man had stood where I was standing, and was also crying, and told her that he had helped build that house as a boy and later moved into it with his wife. She told promised that she would always love and take care of the house--and she kept her promise. It's painted green with white trim and has flowers everywhere. It really does look cute!

Sunday we went to Grand Mere for a beach day. Packed a lunch, books, an umbrella, and had a wonderful day!

It wasn't quite as fun as the time we went a couple of years ago because we didn't have our bikes and we didn't have as much time, but I truly loved spending time with my nieces and nephews. My mom and I had some really nice late night talks too.

The next weekend we planned on camping in Yellowwood, but guess what? Rains caused flooding, so we couldn't go. Instead we went to the Fever game Friday night, preceded by wonderful pizza in the piazza at Giorgios! We had so much fun at the game, then walked around downtown afterwards. The weather was actually pretty nice. Saturday we took a really fun bike ride to Eagle Creek. We just laughed and talked and felt like kids. We stopped by the store and bought stuff for a cookout and cracked up trying to manage the grocery bags on our handlebars. 

My urban prairie looks great, but my garden is is sad sad shape. :( I've lost my ambition to start the projects I couldn't wait to start all winter. This is all my fault. Time slipped away--between bad weather and working quite a few weekends, I think I threw in the towel on myself. The few times that I found really great things to "trash-dive," I was walking and they had been claimed by the time I returned. I've started and quit many books because my mind is kind of racing and kind of set one thing, and I'm not quite sure what that one thing is.

On the upshot, I have been pretty loyal about my "getting in shape for hiking the Rocky Mountains" routine of long walks and cardio. I've made progress in other areas of my life, too. I don't know if I'll ever want to talk about that here, but I've been proud of the steps I've taken.  I don't want to act as if I have been doing nothing. It's just that you can't actually see the changes. I do hope, however, that people might notice a change. (There's a difference, honest.)

So Summer 2015, you have sort of slipped through my fingers, but then again, it's been quite wet. I still enjoy the quiet nights on my deck with iced tea or La Croix (I'm STILL not drinking!) and a book and notebook and the trees and my wonderful wonderful wonderful pet hummingbirds and my beautiful beautiful beautiful flowers.

One way to slow you down is to keep writing and to keep reading. I'll write more. I won't wait until I think I have something important to say. I'll let myself be surprised by what wants to be revealed. But I have to make the first move.

Okay, my turn!