http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rguhwIYJke4

Tedheadone wrote:

---

The Finish Line: While we have been talking about the serious slog this 12,000 mile tour was, and how nice it was to
have the finish line on the horizon in Portsmouth, it occurs that it's not a finish line at all. It's a false summit. That's what happens to
mountain climbers when the see the summit ahead, and attain it, only to discover it's not the summit at all, the REAL summit was obscured and still lies
ahead. And after a brief rest, time to press on...




The bus left the venue at 1:20 on the way back home, all aboard except local Danny home to his folks, and Mark, who was hijacked by Jodi, with plans to spend
the night in Portsmouth and have a leisurely brunch before their departure. And as glad as they all are for the break, I bet that 10 days looks, all of a
sudden, like a pretty short respite! Several Southern dates before heading back up North in mid March to try their luck with the Winter weather. Odds are much
better then in Jan-Feb but still can be dicey.




The Music Hall: This historic 900-seat theater, built in 1878, is the oldest in New Hampshire, the second oldest in New
England, and the fourteenth oldest operating in the United States. Designated by the U.S. Senate as "An American Treasure" in the national Save
America's Treasures Program through the National Park Service, The Music Hall is embarking on a major restoration project.




Portsmouth is a cool, old little city..Restaurants and shops abound all around the theater. They are undergoing renovations in the lobby, plywood up on for a
wall, but up a flight to the venue and no disruptions. I get there in time to go find the Posse, out in force, and old friend Wally with wife Kathy and
daughter Keri. Catch up with all, and meet Klaus. They are all ready. I head out just as the opener Dusty Rhodes is taking the stage, and miss the whole set,
leaving the Hall to help with some parking needs. When I finally come back in, I see a lot of folks have purchased their CD, so it must have been a good set.




Rita Carey, program director for 92.5 The River came out to tell the crowd the band would be out in a few minutes. She told folks to look out for the Posse, in
yellow, and "a fan that came form Germany". She talked about what huge GPN fans the station was. Too bad they didn't take my advice by phone and
email to get 'em in rotation and do a "we played 'em first in Boston" promotion last Spring when I alerted them they would be playing on
rival station WBOS's EarthFest. WBOS blows, they just fired all the DJ's except one and went to a DJ less (read no personality) format. I would never
say "I told you so". (I'll have to figure out another phrase...)




Not sure why, but there was a long delay tonight before the band came out. The Hall is not quite sold out, with some empties in the corners upstairs, but damn
few. I went upstairs and went to the side/front closest to the stage on B-3 side, looking down over Grace's shoulder. Nice vantage point for a song, as was
by the light board, center upstairs. Great sound in this venue, but as loud as I have heard in a long time. Stood behind Mark at the soundboard for a couple
of songs before heading over behind the stage monitor board...directly behind Matt (remember, he is now on the side, not the center) and looking across to
Grace on the B-3. Great vantage point and touch quieter.




Highlights Tonight:




Meantime: Great show starter,




Mary: The crowd fills in real quick, so many there is no way, short of calling out the National Guard to get that genie back in the bottle.
And we all know the Guard is runnin' thin these days...........




Treat: Bryan kicks, and song is extended nicely




Jet: has the crowd in serious singalong mode




Can't See Through: Someone said it best.."A song Linda Rondstad would have song (at her peak)" (ed.note In case you missed it,
it was just me who said that) You can check this beaut out here....http://www.thisissomewhere.com/2008/02/24/grace-potter-and-the-nocturnals-lincoln-center-show-available-for-download/





Ragged Company: B-3 sounded so clear and strong on this




Sugar: Got the Sun Studios Story intro




Sweet Hands: Dance party. Matt's hat flew off just before he knocked over the stool.




Paris: First performance of reworked, and re-recorded version. Grace now plays Rhodes, not the "V". Different energy level.
"Paris" was introduced at the Troubadour show last May, and was an instant hit with the fans. Let's see how this take


does. Long time fans will recall the reworking that Meantime got when it appeared on last album.




NBTW: got the rare, electric a capella version first heard at The Opera House in Lebanon, as well as the 4 way solo




Sweet Emotion: Local guy Nate, keys for Assembley of Dust, took the Rhodes in support of Grace on B-3 for Sweet Emotion, that featured a nice
crowd sing.




Down By The River: This version gave me goosebumps, my first live take. Scott was monstrous and the song eased right into Angel Gate





Adrien Brooms haircut: Adrien and Matt go way back, and she is a talented photog who has shot a lot of the shows, and off stage stuff, that
has been used all over.And she got the perfect haircut. I can't even describe. It was just perfect. Framed her face, enhanced every feature, was casual but
stylish. Tonight she looked like a model with a camera. Even more so, when she put on her jacket and scarf... I got a haircut Saturday, too. It did none of
those things for me. I was tempted to lead with this highlight...honest.




After Show: Bryan came down in the pit to chat with the peeps, and later Grace came out for a Posse picture, as did
Scott and Matt. And the band made a little presentation of thanks to Jen for getting them thru this leg of the tour...a handmade card and a nice black, long
sweater. It was nice that is was done seated at center stage, and so it was seen by many people, how much this band cares for each other...




Scene in The Crowd: Placid People John and Katie, All the Posse Peeps as promised..Dave, John, Tipi, Klaus have a safe
trip..Clan Wally, Aya, Jodi, The Potters,




set list




Meantime


Mary


Ain't No time


Treat


Mastermind


Jet


Bus


Can't see Through


Ragged


Sugar


Sweet Hands


Joey


Paris...new version


NBTW electric open, 4/way drums


Sweet Emotion w/ Nate


//////////////////


Down By The River


Angel Gate/Big White Gate

 

Thanks always to Tedheadone from the GPTN's message board for the awsome review!

Hey now! My friend Dr Klaus Von Jon just returned from California ... Where he went Just to see Grace Potter And The Nocturnals! Here's his report. Any mistakes/typoes are the fault of my translation.

"Went to California just to see Grace Potter And The Nocturnals"

Frankfurt Airport, Tuesday November 6th, 9am, ready for boarding Lufthansa flight LH 455 to Los Angeles. We, that is myself and my friend Olli, are expecting a 12 hour flight to California. A few weeks ago I bought four concert tickets for Grace Potter & The Nocturnals shows in San Diego, Los Angeles and two nights at the famous Fillmore in San Francisco. But stop right here, isn't it crazy to fly 5800 miles to see a band, still pretty unknown in Germany (it will change, I bet), in California? Ok, so take a look, how that has started.

It was in Lexington KY, on a cold and windy Sunday in April this year. I was there for business reasons, and due to the ugly weather, I spent the whole afternoon at the local Barnes & Nobles shop to watch out for new CDs. After a while one CD took my attention. It was a CD packaged the old Vinyl-way in a carton box instead of a jewel case. The title was "Nothing But The Water" from a never-heard-before-band called "Grace Potter & The Nocturnals". The whole outfit was somehow old fashioned, what I like, and so I took the CD and scanned the bar code to hear some of the songs. I remember, that the first song (Toothbrush And My Table) reminds me of some old J.J.Cale tunes, second song (Some Kind Of Ride) I liked immediately due to the melody and the nice groove and than it took me another few seconds of "Ragged Company" before I bought the CD. I was pretty sure, I discovered a CD from an old well-settled band which I have just missed during all my stays in the US over the last 15 years. I was quite surprised to see, that GPTN is a young band from Vermont and this CD was just their second CD. Back in my apartment I first wanted to take a look at the attached DVD, taken from a concert in Vermont. This DVD blew me away, even though this was the first time I have seen or heard this band, I immediately loved all the songs on the DVD. My colleague came in just as "Over Again" was on the screen. He looked at the screen for some seconds and than he said: "Holy cow, what's that?". The outcome of this shopping afternoon was, that the CD never left the CD player for weeks.

The first time I saw Grace Potter & The Nocturnals live was in Cincinnati in June 2007. The concert was different from the sound on NBTW but awesome. After the show I spend some minutes at the merchandise table and Grace signed my NBTW CD after the show with the words "See you in Germany", but I couldn't wait until this becomes real. So I decided to come to California for the shows. Also I decided this night to start a company to bring Grace Potter & The Nocturnals over to Germany.

Arrived in LA, we took a car to drive down to San Diego.

There was a shopping mall close to the concert hall and I had to buy something to bring back for my daughters. Finally it happened, I recognized Matt Burr coming towards me accompanied by a woman wearing sunglasses. Short hello and Matt remembered me from the Cincinnati show. The women took off the glasses and I was more than happy to see Grace again.



The place where GPTN opened for Gov't Mule was like a big garage, but with less atmosphere. I came in early, because I always wanted to be in the front row to see the band. As the show started, I was really disappointed; only about 50 other people are there and everyone was pretty quiet. GPTN tried to make the best out of it, and for me personally the show was good, but not as exciting as my first GPTN show. During the show, more and more people came in, but I really missed the typical excitement that I have come to expect from the Americans. After the show we met Matt and he invited us to take a short look into the tour bus to meet the whole band. I had a good time with the band and I met all the other crew members like Justin, Dan, Nate and last but not least Jana. Everybody was exited to hear that I came to California just to see GPTN. Grace was surprised that I knew all the songs and she asked me about my favorite song. "Over again", I said, knowing that this song was not played too often during the last months. "We're gonna play it for you" Grace said and asked which shows I will attend.

Next was in LA, Henry Fonda Theatre, much better place than in San Diego the day before. This night I took on my red GPTN T-shirt, again going early and standing in the middle of the first row. GPTN started with "Mastermind" followed by "Treat Me Right". After "Treat Me Right" Grace said "Hello" to crowd and "Thanks for Coming". I couldn..t believe what she said next. She said a very special thank you to a person named Klaus in the front row wearing an old red GPTN t-shirt for coming all the way from Germany to see GPTN! All the people around me looked at me and clapped their hands and gave me lots of "High 5s". I was overwhelmed and couldn't say anything during the show. After the show I wanted to thank Grace, but I missed her.

The next day was a long driving day (for somebody from Germany it is a long drive from LA to SF) but we arrived on time and made it in the front row in the Fillmore too. I met many of the people which I met the two nights before. The Fillmore is one of the best places for music I know in the world, very nice balcony and bar. Maybe the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco can compete with the Fillmore. The Fillmore was almost filled up as Grace & the band started. The set list has been changed a little and was as follows:

Mastermind, Treat Me Right, Stop The Bus, Ah Mary, Lose Some Time, Arizona (King of Leon), Watching You, NBTW



I haven't heard the cover song Arizona before. The sound at the Fillmore was great, also the atmosphere was getting better and better every minute. The crowd was really loud after "Watching you". Grace is unbelievable singing this song. The show ended again with NBTW, which still includes the drum part where all members of the band are drumming together. Matt Abts from Gov't Mule joined this night for the drum part. This is a great way to show GPTNs team spirit. To my feeling, Scott was highly impacted to see and hear the large San Francisco crowd, he played two very good sets, it was obvious that he liked the Fillmore.

The next day was a typical rainy day in San Francisco. We had to stay in the rain outside the Fillmore for more than an hour to make sure to be one of the first coming in again.



Grace and the band changed the set list again. Sound, atmosphere, crowd, setting, everything was perfect.

GPTN started with "Meantime", followed by "Joey" and "Ain't No Time". For me "Ain't No Time" is one of the most complete short songs I have ever heard. Great melody, nice groove, great organ! Next song was "Who Knows", a very rocky song, which reminds me of a lot of famous songs of the 60ies (with greetings from Jimmy Hendrix, Ten Years After or who ever played the intro 40 years back!). The crowd got more and more involved in the show. "If I Was From Paris" was followed by NBTW, which was the last song in the shows before. The first part of NBTW was started with the "old" a cappella part by Grace followed by a very good electric part. After NBTW the crowd was really exited, it looked like they all came out just to see GPTN. It was obvious that Grace Potter & The Nocturnals was … for everybody in the Fillmore … much more than just an opener for Gov't Mule. After NBTW Grace started again saying "This is our last song called "Over again". So they didn't forget to play that song! The next 15 minutes have become the best minutes during this trip. I can't say more than just "Over Again" is one of the best rock songs I have ever heard. "Farmer John" finally closed a great show.



As though it were not enough to just have seen an excellent show; Scott invited me and my friend to join the band backstage. Grace said "we played it for you before you leave to Germany again". We had a great time backstage with nice conversations with all of the team members. I gave my promise to Brian, who loves German Weizenbier, to provide a box of assorted bottles of Weizenbier every evening GPTN will play in Germany. We also learned that GPTN is a big fan of a German television show called "Rockpalast". Rockpalast became very famous for their life concert television shows. Rockpalast showed concerts from Rory Gallagher, Little Feat, Roger McGuinn, a 4.5 hours show from Greatful Dead (Opener: The Who, imagine that!!; the only live TV Concert Grateful Dead ever did in Europe) and many, many more. We ended our evening backstage preparing a short video clip where GPTN welcomes their German fans and where they expressed their wish to come over to Germany. This video will be posted on the German Grace Potter fan page (www.gracepotterfans.de) as soon as it goes online.

Now I am back in Germany, concentrating on my main business, pharmaceutical consulting. But I am sure that I will not wait until Grace Potter & The Nocturnals come to Germany! I am planning to see them again on the East coast as soon as possible and to meet with friends from the GPTN street team!

Best regards, Klaus

Check out this video: Grace Potter and the Nocturnals "Over Again"



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Annie Lamott is a wonderful writer who picked up my family at a particularly Tumultuous time for us. Shortly after dear Katie passed ... My Brother-in-law became my Sister-in-law. For that story ... read She's Not There by Jenny Boylan.

Sharing an office with Richard Russo [Empire Falls - pulitzer prize award winning novel] ... They were best friends ... He was with he and my sister when they went for the procedure ... He gave them both Anne's Traveling Mercies.

I hope her words give you comfort. Here is ...

Chapter 13 - Untitled from Annie Lamotts Plan-B:

I was at a wedding the other day with a lot of women in their twenties and thirties. Many wore sexy dresses, their youthful skin aglow. and even though I was twenty to thirty years older than they, a little worse for wear, a little tired and overwhelmed by the loud music, I was smiling.

I smiled with a secret smile of pleasure in being older, fifty plus change, which can no longer be considered extremely late youth, or even middle age. But I would not give back a year of life I've lived.

Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life--it has given me me. It has provided time and experience and failures and triumphs and time-tested friends who have helped me step into the dshape that was waiting for me. I fit into me now. I have an organic life, finally, not necessarily the one people imagined for me, or tried to get me to have. I have the life I longed for. I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I could be. There are parts I don't love---until a few years ago, I had no idea that you could have cellulite on your stomach--- but not only do I get along with me most of the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side.

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory?

You bet I would. That is why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. I have amazing friends. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets. I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen. I'd give up all of this for a flatter belly? Only about a third of the time.

I still have terrible moments when I despair about my body---time and gravity have not made various parts of it higher and firmer. But those are just moments now---I used to have years when I believed I was more beautiful if I jiggled less, if all parts of my body stopped moving when I did. But I know two things now that I didn't at thirty: That when we get to heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and our skin was 127th on the list of what mattered on this earth. And that I am not going to live forever. Knowing these things has set me free

I am thrilled---ish---for for every gray hair and sore muscle, because of all the friends who didn't make it, who died too young of AIDS and breast cancer. I'm decades past my salad days, and even past the main course: maybe I'm in my cheese days---sitting atop the lettuce leaves on the table for a while now with all the other cheese balls, but with much nutrition to offer, and still delicious. Or maybe I'm in my desert days, the most delicious course. Whatever you call it, much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided---what other people think of me, and of how I am living my life. I give these things the big shrug. Mostly. Or at least eventually. It's a huge relief.

I became more successful in my forties, but that pales in comparison with the other gifts of my current decade---how kind to myself I have become, what a wonderful, tender wife I am to myself, what a loving companion. I prepare myself tubs of hot salt water at the end of the day, and soak my tired feet. I run interference for myself when I am working, like the wife of a great artist would---"No, I'm sorry, she can't come. She's working hard these days, she needs a lot of down time." I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence. I rest as a spiritual act.

I have grown old enough to develop radical acceptance. I insist on the right to swim in warm water at every opportunity, no matter how I look, no matter how young and gorgeous the other people on the beach are. I don't think that if I live to be eighty, I'm going to wish I spent more hours in the gym or kept my house a lot cleaner. I'm going to wish I had swum more unashamedly, made more mistakes, spaced out more, rested. On the day I die, I want to have had dessert [chocolate on my tongue]. So this informs how I live now.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by our forties---my parents, dear friends,nmy pets. Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built. If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never really get over the loss of a deeply loved person. But this is also good news. That person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through, and you learn to dance with a banged up heart. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships. I danced alone for a couple of years, and came to believe thnat I might never have a passionate romantic relationship---might end up alone! I'd always been terrified of this. But I'd rather not ever be in a couple, or ever get laid again, than be in a toxic relationship. I spent a few years celibate. It was lovely, and it was sometimes lonely. I had surrendered; I'd run out of bullets. I learned to be the person I wished I'd meet, at which point I found a kind, artistic handsome man. When we get out of bed, we hold our lower backs, like Walter Brennan, and we laugh, and bring each other the advil.

Younger women worry that their memories will begin to go. And you know what? They will. Menopause has not increased my focus and retention as much as I'd been hoping. But a lot is better-off missed. A lot is better-off not gotten around to.

I know many of the women at the wedding fear getting older, and I wish I could gather them together, and give them my word of honor that everyone of my friends loves being older, loves being in their forties, fifties, sixties, seventies. My aunt Gertrud is eighty-five and leaves us behind in the dust when we hike. Look, my feet hurt some mornings, and my body is less forgiving when I excercise more than I am used to. But I love my life more, and me more.I'm so much juicier. And as that old saying goes, it's not that I think less of myself, but that I think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me.

You remember the game ... one person starts with a simple story ... With simple details. They tell the story to the person next to them ... And it is passed down the line. The story ... without exception changes ever so slightly with every version ... Until, by the time it get's all the way around the room ... It has become virtually unrecognizable.

Here we are. Never ... Ever ... When two people talk ... does one say the same thing that the person they're talking to hears. And vice versa. It is impossible. You are working with two seperate and distinctly different tool sets.

No matter how similar your perspectives ... No matter how much shared history ... You will never be thinking the same thing. Even if you tell each other that's exactly what's happening. It's not ... An absolute impossibility.

There's freedom here ... Knowing this makes it infinately easier to forgive the perspective that is not your own. The argument that you can't agree with. Most importantly ... It removes you from the shock that comes from realizing the person you had thought you Did share perspective with ... Can disagree with you. "You're not who I thought you were."

You can read the map ... That doesn't mean you will recognize the territory when you get there.

Forgive ... It's liberating.
T

Hey now ever growing list of things I either think ... Or hear .. Feel free to steal them ... I do.

[jump in any time Rick]

I'm all about that ... For a minute

Talk amoungst yourselves

Use your words honey

Absolutely nothing is worse than when all you can do to make your friends happy ... Is to shut up or go away

Whatever helps you sleep sugar

Only problem? Them's US too

Two paths diverged in a yellow wood ... But I had this Machete

I gotta cook dinner ... No ... I gotta Cook dinner

These colors don't run ... I'll last longer if I walk more

How can I be envious of where you are --- when I've been there myself? M.S.

Fate succumbs many a species: one alone jeopardises itself." W.H. Auden

Don't fear the crazy! It don't hurt a bit.

How we all gonna fit if we don't strech the envelope?

Ain't got no right ... But can't be too wrong ... Or it wouldn't be this good

Worse than few ... Better than none.

Everbody Loves talking to me ... It's me talking to them that they're not sure about.

Finding happiness when it's doing all it can to hide from you ... now that's talent.

Work like nobody's watching, Love like you're not getting paid, Dance like you've never been hurt

Your friends are precious ... Irreplaceable ... No matter how much of an asshole or an idiot or a bitch they can be.

We have now sunk to a depth at which the restatement of the obvious
is the first duty of intelligent men
.... George Orwell

Always love ... Always music. It's where the Hope lives

Stay up ... So we can get down

Better than I have any right to expect

Todd is one of my all time heros. A lover of wine women and song. A man with a green thumb, blue heart, grey teeth, silver tongue, and golden ears. Plus we invented hip hop, then gave it back to its rightful owners. Thanks broseph[Matt Tecu]

Nobody's arrived ... We're all just here

Work like nobody's watching
Love like you're not getting paid
Dance like you've never been hurt

When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad, and that is my religion.
- Abraham Lincoln

Takin' My Time
-- Bill Payne

I'm just takin' my time so please don't rush me
I gotta sort out some things I didn't know existed
I've been here before I know where the traps lie
I can only take what's there 'cause the rest doesn't matter

I'm tired of talk so please don't rush me
You know I want the same things that you do
You're wastin' your time the way you come on to me
Slow down your rhymes and try to reason

You can't make things move any faster
By second-wishing them to death
You seem to be living on a level that's decent enough
You got what you wanted so why do you tell me
I'm on the wrong track
I'm doing the best I can do

Why try to out-guess a situation
That I know you're not even fully aware of
I want you to know that if it keeps on this way
I can't keep on letting you bring me down

=========================================

Time Loves A Hero
-- music by Bill Payne, Paul Barrere, Ken Gradney
-- Lyrics
by Bill Payne, Paul Barrere

Well they say time loves a hero
but only time will tell
If he's real, he's a legend from heaven
If he ain't he was sent here from hell

Hear me well
Seein' ain't always believin'
Just make sure it's the truth that you're seein'
Eyes sometimes lie, eyes sometimes lie
They can be real deceivin'

I got an Uncle in Puerto Rico
Spends his days in the sun
his nights in the casinos
He left the States many years ago
Took a fishin' boat to Puerto Rico
Now my aunt, she is sad and lonely
She'll never know that she drove him away
As a coward I admire his courageous ways

Well they say time loves a hero
but only time will tell
If he's real, he's a legend from heaven
If he ain't he was sent here from hell

Some say my uncle, that he's a zero
His life is as a shell, he left it back at Stateside
I'd say he's doin' pretty well, without his shell
Bumming 'round the beaches of Puerto Rico

The beauty of the sunrise and sunset
To his friends he wish he could tell
They're at home still runnin' for bells
Better San Juan than that blue collar hell

Well they say time loves a hero
but only time will tell
If he's real, he's a legend from heaven
If he ain't he was sent here from hell


================================================


A couple of years back, I come across a great and wasted friend of mine in the hallway of a recording studio; and while he was reciting some poetry to me that he'd written, I saw that he was about a step away from dyin' and I couldn't help but wonder why. And the lines of this song occurred to me. I'm happy to say he's no longer wasted and he's got him a good woman. And I'd like to dedicate this to John and June, who helped show me how to beat the devil.

It was winter time in Nashville, down on music city row.
And I was lookin' for a place to get myself out of the cold.
To warm the frozen feelin' that was eatin' at my soul.
Keep the chilly wind off my guitar.

My thirsty wanted whisky; my hungry needed beans,
But it'd been of month of paydays since I'd heard that eagle scream.
So with a stomach full of empty and a pocket full of dreams,
I left my pride and stepped inside a bar.

Actually, I guess you'd could call it a Tavern:
Cigarette smoke to the ceiling and sawdust on the floor;
Friendly shadows.

I saw that there was just one old man sittin' at the bar.
And in the mirror I could see him checkin' me and my guitar.
An' he turned and said: "Come up here boy, and show us what you are."
I said: "I'm dry." He bought me a beer.

He nodded at my guitar and said: "It's a tough life, ain't it?"
I just looked at him. He said: "You ain't makin' any money, are you?"
I said: "You've been readin' my mail."
He just smiled and said: "Let me see that guitar.
"I've got something you oughta hear."
Then he laid it on me:

"If you waste your time a-talkin' to the people who don't listen,
"To the things that you are sayin', who do you think's gonna hear.
"And if you should die explainin' how the things that they complain about,
"Are things they could be changin', who do you think's gonna care?"

There were other lonely singers in a world turned deaf and blind,
Who were crucified for what they tried to show.
And their voices have been scattered by the swirling winds of time.
'Cos the truth remains that no-one wants to know.

Well, the old man was a stranger, but I'd heard his song before,
Back when failure had me locked out on the wrong side of the door.
When no-one stood behind me but my shadow on the floor,
And lonesome was more than a state of mind.

You see, the devil haunts a hungry man,
If you don't wanna join him, you got to beat him.
I ain't sayin' I beat the devil, but I drank his beer for nothing.
Then I stole his song.

And you still can hear me singin' to the people who don't listen,
To the things that I am sayin', prayin' someone's gonna hear.
And I guess I'll die explaining how the things that they complain about,
Are things they could be changin', hopin' someone's gonna care.

I was born a lonely singer, and I'm bound to die the same,
But I've got to feed the hunger in my soul.
And if I never have a nickle, I won't ever die ashamed.
'Cos I don't believe that no-one wants to know.

===============================================================

Hobo on a freight-train

Well the holy men say that the world's in decay
There's a moral depression at hand
Maybe I'm as depressed as all of the rest
But I'm doing the best that I can

They're preaching repentance
And passing down sentence
Before my defense can reply
I'm struck from their list
Of those who are blessed
With a ticket to heaven on high

I'm a hobo on a freight-train to heaven
I ain't got a ticket I'm just stealin' a ride
I'm not welcome aboard The train to the lord
But I bet he'll be glad that I tried

And I've harbored affection
for a wonderous selection
of thing of which I'm not ashamed
And when Gabriel cuts loose
I'll hop that caboose
And I'll ride that glory bound train!

I'm a hobo on a freight-train to heaven
I ain't got a ticket I'm just stealin' a ride
I'm not welcome aboard The train to the lord
But I bet he'll be glad that I tried

================================================================

YA YA

So you wanna do the right thing
But you don't know when to start
You wanna hear your voice ring
But you can't find your part
You wanna feel real special
But you're afraid to be strange
You wish things were different
But you don't wanna change

So you've got yourself a plan
But you ain't got no tools
You wanna be the man
But you hang around fools
You wanna lead every dance
But you ain't got no groove
You're looking to advance
But you're stuck and can't move

Now you ask the man upstairs
Where's my love this ain't fair
Are you up there?

Ya ya ya ya, make way
Ya ya ya ya, this way
Ya ya ya ya, make way
Sing tra la la la all day
Keep giving away your good thing
And a good thing will come your way.

It shook you up, but now you're thinking
Is he right or is he wrong
Maybe there ain't no meaning
Just like a silly little song
And when you go, move slow, that's how you learn
But you've got to stop talking
What you give is what you earn
The man says "Of course I'm here, I'm everywhere
I'm getting tired of you asking."
Sing,

Ya ya ya ya, make way
Ya ya ya ya, this way
Ya ya ya ya, make way
Sing tra la la la all day
Keep giving away your good thing
And a good thing will come your way.

==============================================================



Gavin's Song
Marc Broussard

I wish you freedom
I wish you peace
I wish you nights of stars
That beckon you to sleep
I wish you heartache
That leaves you more of a man?
I wish I could be there
But I can't

I wish you places
That sit so still
Where people never ever change
and Never ever will
I wish I could hold you
And make you understand
I wish I could be there
But I can't

Be good for your mama
Cause she'll need a hand to hold
Boy, she loves you
More than you'll ever know
There are rhymes and there are reasons
And times when nothing stayed the same
But you know my love still remains

I wish you wisdom
I wish you years
I wish you armies
To conquer all your fears
I wish you courage for all that life demands
I wish I could be there
But I can't

Be good for your mama
Cause she'll need a hand to hold
Boy, she loves you
More than you'll ever know
There are rhymes and there are reasons
And times when nothing stayed the same
But you know my love still remains

I wish we were together
I wish I was home
I wish there were nights
Where I was never alone
I know I've said it
But I'll say it once again
I wish I could be there
But I can't

===========================================


Why
Why take what you might need when you can give what others lack
Why not see 1000 colors Why paint it white and black
Why say I'm right my brother's wrong better shoot him in the back
Man if we get any smaller ... We're gonna fall right through the cracks

Why pay a man just what you can, why not what he is worth
Why think if you make more than him that that makes him the jerk
Why piss and moan bout what's never done, Then those who never work
Why arrest the man in the garbage can, Why not the upper berth

Why rape our mother every day piling excess up in stacks
For 3 weeks in the Islands drinking rum punch on our backs
Maybe we're fat and lazy, Maybe spoiled fucking brats
A little work could keep her whole don't you ever think of that

When brothers and sisters get so small it always makes me cry
And pray that there is just one soul who sees it plain as I
So tell me now, Please tell me quick, I'll pay for your reply
I'm not sure I can make it ... But with just 1 friend I'll try

===========================================

Soulshine

by Warren Haynes

When you can't find the light,
That got you through the cloudy days,
When the stars ain't shinin' bright,
You feel like you've lost you're way,
When those candle lights of home,
Burn so very far away,
Well you got to let your soulshine,
Just like my daddy used to say.

He used to say soulshine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Hey now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Got to let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

I grew up thinkin' that I had it made,
Gonna make it on my own.
Life can take the strongest man,
Make him feel so alone.
Now and then I feel a cold wind,
Blowin' through my achin' bones,
I think back to what my daddy said,
He said "Boy, in the darkness before the dawn:"

Let your soulshine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Yeah now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta' let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

Sometimes a man can feel this emptiness,
Like a woman has robbed him of his very soul.
A woman too, God knows, she can feel like this.
And when your world seems cold,
You got to let your spirit take control.

Let your soulshine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Lord now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta' let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

Oh, it's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Yeah now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta' let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

Army of Dude

Reporting On Truth, Justice And The American Way Of War
Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Happy Dependence Day!

God, I was a naive brat.

In my younger years I was seduced by images of war and combat. When kids my age were watching Ninja Turtles and Dick Tracy, I was memorizing lines from Patton and The Longest Day. When I was in high school and my grades were falling faster than a bunker buster, I didn't bring my homework to my fast food job. I packed a copy of Black Hawk Down. I was that kid; so sure my future was in the military that I damned any other possibilities. Some were wearing letter jackets and Texas A&M sweaters; I was wearing my dad's worn Navy field jacket. So it should come to no surprise that I wasn't the popular kid in class. Sure, I had a few friends here and there. But I had no sense of belonging. I felt like I was riding out my time until I could join the Army. A band of outsiders! If movies have taught me anything beyond the fact that Hong Kong cops don't play by the rules, it's that soldiers come from different walks of life to come together and serve a purpose greater than themselves. Remember what JFK said? Ask what you can do for your country. It was 2003 when I was graduating, and we were just invading Iraq. Support for the war was overwhelming back then. I was a 17 year old who thought it was a swell idea. Soon it'd be my chance to experience war with my own eyes and heart. How exciting it must be! I'd go from a hapless kid to a respected man in twelve months.

Recruiters across the country must be thanking their lucky stars for Hollywood. Half their job is done when a middle class high school dropout buys Band of Brothers on DVD.

There's a cold hard fact that hits everyone when they get to their unit fresh out of basic training. In the great scheme of the Army, you're nothing. You're puke. You're not a patriot serving your country, you're unproven waste of space. Shit! That wasn't in the brochure. After awhile you start to form those cliché bonds you see in 50s war movies, though it only applies to those of the same rank or just a little lower and higher. My team leader knows what my favorite movie is, but I doubt my battalion commander can put a name to my face. That's how it has to be. Do you think Bill Gates knows the hopes and aspirations of the guy who empties the trash in his office? The higher the rank, the more impersonal it gets. To some general I'm not Alex, reader and movie aficionado. I'm Rifleman in Company B, Third Brigade, Second Infantry Division, First Corps, America's Corps, The Only Corps! To a dude who has lieutenants make his coffee, it must be startlingly easy to hand down orders and directives that destroy plans you thought you had for the future. That's called thinking out of your pay grade.

Ask anyone besides Donald Rumsfeld about the progress of the war and they'll tell you: it's going badly. Most people would elect a biracial lesbian president before having us stay here one more day. Too bad the group that was elected to be the voice of the people has been mute for four years. Every month the bombs in the road get bigger, every month the enemy gets wise to our tactics and exploit them, to the chagrin of colonels with slipping track records. People with sixteen, seventeen years in the Army are getting out a few years short of retirement. They'd rather not risk another deployment that is now fifteen months long, because you can't enjoy retirement benefits when kids are stomping on what used to be your intestines after a five hundred pound bomb disintegrated the Humvee you were in because, oh beans, the Army thought it was too expensive to put armor underneath it. That money was better spent putting Velcro pockets on our new uniforms.

We roll our eyes every time we hear the term 're-enlistment brief.' Ugh. Since before we deployed, we've been collectively forced to attend a meeting every few months where some dude lays out the news: stay in the Army, and you'll be handsomely rewarded. $15,000, college time, Airborne school, the works. Serve your country for a few more years, come on. They have a big sheet with everyone's name, kind of like a grocery list. They check yes, no or maybe next to your name. When you tell them no, it was always the same chilly reply: you'll fail on the outside. You're just a vet with no skills, who would hire you? Before we left we must have had the lowest re-enlistment rate in the division. The only people convinced to re-enlist were those with families, who couldn't risk getting out and suddenly not having a monthly check and health insurance. For the single guys, forget about it. Three or four years were enough for us. I knew the military life wasn't for me.

Four years of war and this Army is a skeleton of its former self. Equipment is broken or obsolete, thousands are dead and wounded and many of us can't wait to get off the Hindenburg. For awhile, deployments were kept to a year, with at least twelve months back home to recuperate, to get new equipment, to bury the dead. To keep the surge going, deployments have been extended to fifteen months to keep the year at home from shrinking down to nine or less months. The number of people getting out was devastating, so the Army needed a new plan to keep people in. New slogan and advertising campaign? Check. Stop loss program? Check. Bigger bonuses? Check. Guaranteeing non-deployable positions at training posts and recruiting stations, acknowledging people are scared stiff to go to Iraq? Check. Still the numbers are low. After watching too many 80s gang movies, someone thought of such a simple, foolproof idea: good ol' fashioned blackmail.

Before we left Baghdad, the re-enlistment briefs got a little more disturbing. Instead of letting you know what a bum you'll become if you leave the Army after your enlistment, they put it in simple terms: if you don't re-enlist, you'll be thrown in 5th Brigade, the Stryker unit on Ft. Lewis that was being stood up, and yes, they were deploying as soon as they could. So you might as well stay where your friends are and come back to Iraq with them. Otherwise, you'll be taking your chances by getting your ass stop-lossed and sent to Iraq in as little as six months to a year after you returned. Better off with the sure thing. Here's a pen, junior. If you got out after July 2008, you were screwed. I, on the other hand, was in the clear since I was getting out at the end of 2007. The options were re-enlist, extend to meet the unit's needs, or take no action. I checked take no action, which meant my name would be added to the pool of possible candidates for 5th Brigade. No matter. It was of no consequence if I separated from the Army in 3rd or 5th Brigade. A lot of us were in that boat. Still, it spooked us that someone could come to us with a list and a smile and say in so many words that we were fucked into another deployment unless we added years to our contracts. In short, the thanks we got for serving our country was being forced into a game of Russian Roulette. Take the risk, pull the trigger. See what happens.

Month thirteen into our deployment and someone is getting desperate. They pick the best times to hold these briefs. We just spent a week straight in western Baqubah, where the explosions haven't let up since Operation Arrowhead Ripper began weeks ago. Mercifully they brought us in for 48 hours to sleep in a bed in lieu of a muggy rooftop. The next morning a certain group was to meet for a re-enlistment brief. Those selected had the same thing in common: they all said no to re-enlistment at one time, and they all are set to get out of the Army from October 2008 to around October 2009. Privates to Specialists to Staff Sergeants, all in the same sinking boat of deceit. They were told that those not re-enlisting would receive orders to a new unit 24 hours after returning to Ft. Lewis. In a month they would be going to another post after fifteen months of time spent in Iraq, to a unit that could be deploying in the next sixty days! That meant either an Airborne unit or a regular light infantry outfit, meaning Bradleys or Humvees (which have a poor track record against wired propane tanks and landmines buried in the road). So here's the deal, clear cut:

Re-Enlist
College Time
Bonus Money
We Love You

Don't Re-Enlist
30 Out of The Next 32 Months Spent In Iraq
Humvee or Bradley Unit
You're Going To Die

After all of this, I consider myself lucky. If I had joined the Army nine months later, I'd be at a crossroads. Those not so lucky are facing a fifteen month tour either way. Whether or not they stay with this unit, go to be a recruiter or drill sergeant, or just take their chances, is up to them. Shoot yourself in the foot or stab yourself in the hand. Oh, the possibilities.
=============
=============

Thank you all sincerely for your service ... Forgive me for my impotant apathy ... Come home soon.

Vote

I've been meaning to get Katie's whole story down ... For quite some time ... But stuff happens. Good stuff, true stuff, but it happens.

Katie & I had not spoken since my mothers death. Katie was one of the first female ministers in the country ... All ordained at the same service; She was also one of the most materialistic people I've ever met. Katie was all about the Stuff. Particularly shiny or expensive stuff ... Which always seemed incongruent with her chosen path.

After Mom passed ... We 4 children all chose a color for our sticker, to designate what of all that stuff we wanted. I put my sticker on 2 things: Our parents wedding ring ... And our fathers favorite chair.

Our poor mother was literally pregnant for 22 years. 3 older sisters and countless miscarriages kept her consumed for 22 years ... See my father was the last male Finney ... And very much wanted a son to carry on the family name.

Unfortunately ... All this really amounted to ... Was spawning an unnatural resentment from Katie towards me. You see ... Katie was one of those seriously driven people, always busy. Until my arrival ... She wondered why such continued obsessive absorption in some imagined Boy child ... With 3 beautiful daughters? One of them was Katie for crying out loud!

When I finally did arrive ... There was nothing Katie could do (in her mind) to garner the same love and admiration from our father as I did. Even after he made it clear that I was in fact born not just to keep the Finney name alive ... It was his intention that I become the president of the United States of America. No shit. Upon hearing this news ... I made it my life's work to Get That Option Off the table!

No trouble was to much for me to get into, to keep myself from that horrible fate. My father declared throughout my life ... That HE had no desire to be such a thing ... But this was my destiny. Fuck you Dad! You don't think I heard you all those times you "pitied" the people who Did win election? And yet you could wish it on me ... I never forgave you for that ... Until just before you past.


Anyway ... When Katie saw the 2 things I wanted she got worried ... "Oh no! I was going to give the rings to my Lukie ... And jeez Todd ... You weren't even born when we bought that chair! We were living in Denmark
... Did you even know that?

Yes Katie ... I have spent my whole life looking at the pictures of the time you, Susie and Mom and Dad lived in Denmark. The last 5 years ... I have been looking at those pictures wondering what it must be like to have actually known our father.

So I sent her a sarcastic letter (can you imagine), stating how true all of her arguments were ... How clearly since she had our parents longer ... She deserved, more than I, anything that she wanted.

That made her day! Ordinarily smart ... She chose not to recognize her baby brothers sarcasm (even though the instances of my NOT being sarcastic were few & far between then).

"I'm so glad you see it my way!"

My other sisters were mortified ... But I refused to let them attack her for me. It Was just stuff after all. They gave her enough shit that I did get the chair ... She took the wedding rings ... And instead gave me our Granny's. Another one of those things that Katie lived with ... That I never knew.

When Katie decided at 50 that she was a lesbian ... She thought it important enough news to break our sibling silence ... And called to tell me.

"I'm sorry Darlin'! I prolly should of told you when I was 10 and I figured that out huh?"

Was all I said ... Katie hung up ... For another 3 years. In that time ... Because she had fallen in love with the female organist ... She had been fired from the church she had worked in for the last 12 years ... And had been diagnosed with stage 4 Ovarian Cancer. She called again.

"Do you need anything from the store?" Was all I said.
"What?"
"I'm on my way ...."

Now ... Katie still had me where I'd always been in her perspective ... A lazy unmotivated lil' hippy ... Who loved the environment ... Blah, blah, blah."

As for most of my life ... She had no idea who I was.

I arrived just as the Organist she had "left her Job for" (never true, she did not realize she would be fired for being a lesbian, but was what she believed in her anger.) Mary Jo, asked her to move out.

So to recap ... Fired, Cancer, Homeless (ungrateful bitch). Katie was mad. For the first couple of weeks I was treated as the baby brother ... Who knew nothing, but could go to the store for her and shit.

And Katie was "Crazy as a shit-house Rat!" How could she not be? We all wonder how we're not possibly good enough when trouble comes our way ... But she was a fucking Minister for Christ's Sake!

One late night early in our time together ... I gave her a check. A big hunk of money ... Katie was stunned.

"What's this?"
"Money. So you don't have to worry about That shit while you're trying to live your last days."

She still wasn't right ... But that got her attention. Money she understood, or so she thought at the time.

She still wasn't right ... But that got her attention. Money she understood, or so she thought at the time.

She would not, I have no doubt, been as moved by the gesture if she had known that I also gave Mary Jo a check.

Katie, when kicked out of the church, and therefore the Manse she had called home for 12 years, she had moved into Mary Jo's lovely old farmhouse in upstate new york. By the time I arrived, Katie had taken over. She had designated One room for all of Mary Jo's stuff ... The rest for hers.

They used to say Katie never walked into the Manse empty handed ... But nobody could seem to remember ever seeing her take anything Out of the place. She had accumulated Alot of Stuff in 12 years.

Mary Jo was also a nurse ... And her mother had died of Ovarian Cancer in the same hospital where Katie received her treatments. Her bills had skyrocketed since Katie and her moved in together ... And she was in debt. That's how much money I gave her. The night I suggested that she ask Katie to leave.

Katie had at this point not only taken over MJ's house ... But her life. She wondered if somehow My brilliant sister Knew that she was sick ... And chose Mary Jo, at least in part, because she was a nurse. Can you imagine?

The next few weeks were spent in Angry Town ... Katie stomping around in the garden ... Pulling up plants "This is mine!" She had to ... Anything of hers in the house ... Had to be retrieved by my sister Susie & I. Katie wasn't allowed into the house.

"Why didn't you wait until my hair started falling out?!?"

She screamed through their neighborhood while uprooting an Azalea bush.

Crazy as a shit-house Rat. Of course she was.

One night Katie had gone off to be mad and do something ... And Mary Jo Susie & I decided we needed a nice dinner ... And made plans to go to our new favorite restaurant. Then Katie called. She had taken a manic mood swing and was all bubbly ... But clearly we could not tell her our plans ... Indeed we had to change them.

I sent Susie & Mary Jo out to the nice dinner ... Katie and I went to (You can't make this shit up) Billy-Bob-Jack's. A southern Bar-B-Que in upstate NY. As wrong as the day is long if you are either southern ... Or Like Bar-B-Que.

I should tell you that food is #1 on my list of drugs of choice. Food ... I get high on food. Eating to me is one of the things that I so enjoy, it gives me strength to handle what I don't enjoy.

Billy-Bob-Jack's are you fucking kidding me? It is a crime against nature. But here we go. In the midst of our repast ... Katie was still bubbly ... And reached for shared experience with her little brother.

"I used to love the live music [right behind food on My list] ... We should go see some! Take me to see Little Feat! [my favorite band] Just think of it Todd! I could wear my Farrah Fawcett wig!"

Talk about my idea of a perfect evening ... Dinner at Billy-Bob-Jack's ... Then take my shit-house rat crazy sister in her Farrah wig to see little feat. Oh boy.

I did what I could to instead talk about the Real things in our world. Cancer, Love, Death, Mary Jo. Well we got there eventually ... But to Katie this meant an opportunity to explain to me why she's so angry.

To her this meant listing all the people who were wrong in their perspective on her. Not cancer, not death, ... A list of why she hates x, y, & z. The conversation got heated ... In large part because I would not share her oppinions.

"I hear what you are saying Katie ... I just can't share your perspective on why all this makes Them all wrong."

The last time I said this was at my hotel ... As I kneeled on the ground outside her driver's window ... Holding onto her van trying again to explain ... "I just can't share your perspective ..."

To which she replied "Well I know plenty of people who do!"

As she sacreamed this at me ... She peeled out of the parking lot ... With me hanging onto her window. She litterally almost killed me. I sat there on my knees in the parking lot ... Cried & prayed. Help me, Help me, help me ... Help me help us.

Homelessness, at least, was removed from her list of wrong shit ... When a family from her church ... Who so loved Katie that they left the church when she was fired ... Offered up their brand new lake house. Katie and I were to live there until we lived no more. What a gift. They came over several times ... For dinners ... For easter etc.; It would be almost 2 years before They got to enjoy their new house.

The next few weeks I kept talking. Trying to explain things as I saw them ... And dealing with the everyday crap that goes along with Cancers wrong. I was reaching her.

My life has been such a collection of loss and pain that it has gotten me to place where justice is almost irrelevant. Whether or not I deserved any of these things ... I have decided to waste no time complaining. It is simply the best choice, as I see it, to dwell on the good shit ... And not let the bad shit into your thoughts. A choice.

The only tricky party of this perspective for me ... Is that it sounds awfully self absorbed sometimes when I talk. I know it makes it way to easy to dismiss what I'm saying ... And I work everyday at trying to improve in this regard ... But know I'm not done and simply ask you to bear with me.

It surely helped me reach her that all her friends ... Especially the lesbians loved me ... And were facinated by my words. I bet you nobody has ever had so many Lesbians say "Damnit! Where were You when I was 22?"

After a month or so of living on the lake ... Eating only our favorite things (Lots of Lobster ... Asperagus ... Rotissarie chicken ... Stouffers Spinach souffle) ... Katie and Mary Jo made peace. "But Katie ... What about why you loved her? Do you really think you have time to be bitter to the end? Wouldn't you better serve yourself to forgive her ... And squeeze as much love out of her support as you can?

Mary Jo spent the last 6 months of our time at the lake living with us. This simple decision by Katie was the first step in what became the most amazing transformation I've ever witnessed. By the time she passed ... Katie was the smartest ... Most highly evolved person I've yet to meet. Pure spirit by the end.

It didn't happen over night ... If I could just explain how we did it ... I'ld be on Oprah. I believe shit like Cancer exists because we fight so hard to think we know something ... Put our collective heads down and bull through life wasting time on the details. Nobody's right if everybody's wrong ... We could be right ... But we don't have the time. What could be more important?

Heaven IS right here on earth; I know ... I've seen it. Yet so many Choose to be in hell. Nothing is good enough ... More more more. I needf more ! Faster! All I need is a lil' chocolate on my tounge ... A couple of Lazy days drinking lemonade in the shade ... And love. That we make ourselves. Another choice.

Katie found happiness before she died. Indeed I believe she died happy ... By choice one day.

The day before she past? Was the anniversary of Mary Jo's mothers death ... Same disease ... Same hospital as KT's treatments. The day after she passed was her sons birthday. The day she passed ... I had tickets to New Orleans ... For the Jazz and Heritage Festival.

We discussed it daily ... "Oh you're going! That's where you "fill up your bucket of love!" Katie would say. I would amuse her ... But clearly ... As the day to leave approached ... It became clear to me this was less and less likely ... Her end was coming ... Soon.

But she never relented ... Even after she got to Hospice. It occurs to me I need to touch on hospice. It's such a blessing. We All need to recognize the rightness of it. We weren't even sure a spot at hospice would even be available before KT passed ... Her condition deteriorated so quickly.

But as luck would have it one did. When KT got to hospice ... She clearly was no longer in such a rush to end her life of pain. Hospice rocks! This is more like it! Not sure we' ld have 10 minutes there ... Katie lived happily at hospice for 10 days.

Family and friends gathered ... Sang ... Prayed ... Or just said goodbye. One night ... The late shift was taken by me and Mary Jo's daughter Holly. Our job was to monitor her condition ... And press the button on her IV when we recognized a look of pain on her face.

The button is a timer ... Impossible to press more than it is set up to be pressed ... Or so we believed. We Had good talk that night ... And pressed that button like we couldn't push it too much. Unfortunately ... They didn't have the correct unit ... So that it WAS possible to push the button too much.

In fact ... The next day when the doctor arrived for his daily inspection of the patients condition ... He told us in no uncertain terms that ...

"You could have killed her! In fact I'm amazed you didn't! What the hell were you thinking?"

Now ... I was still in my self made heaven ... Refusing to let this little man make me feel bad ...

"I'm sorry Doctor ... But that was not our understanding"

"That's because You weren't at The Family Meeting!"

"The Family Meeting" ... It turns out ... Was KT's last 2 lovers ... And her Ex husband Bob. Apparently ... The Doctor shows up when he feels like it ... Calls a meeting ... And there was No Family There. My Bad.

But I'm in heaven damnit ... "You're so right Doctor I apologize. I'm just glad you got here when you did! Thanks again for all you do."

That got his attention ... Was clearly not the reaction he had prepared for ... And he learned something that day about what the hell he is there for. He apologized to me for being wrong and insensitive ... As I watched the staff in ear shot eavesdrop on our conversation until that moment. Then they All looked in the door to witness 1st hand this ordinarily unrepentant patronizing Doctor be humble. They all smiled at me and each gave me a lil' nod through the door ... As if to say "Wow ... You're good"

Anyway ... that's hospice. The only way to go.

Now I had let KT win our argument before she became silent ... I would go to JazzFest as promised. That night I said my goodbyes and went back to the lake house. Only after packing all my stuff up ... I got an undeniable feeling that I needed to go back to hospice ... So I did.

Nothing to report they said ... No Change ... Why don't you get some sleep on the couch. So I did. They woke us up at about 5:30 to suggest the end was near. We all gathered at her bedside ... I got her feet because there was a full house that night ... I realized it ... Had had more time with her in the last year than anyone ... And so went there so the others could be closer. Besides ... Rubbing the ministers feet as she passed had to make you think of Mary washing Jesus' feet.

We sang ... We Prayed ... We spread rose petals on her as the sun came up over the lake out the window. And Katie died. She was smiling.

Amazing ... All Amazing. My thoughts swirled as I made my way to the airport ... New Orleans ... And my incredible room in Purgatory. Purgatory is what they call the 2nd floor of The Hideout, My pal Leila's bar. They live upstairs in heaven ... I'll leave it to you to guess what they call the bar itself on the 1st floor.

Leila was supposed to be buying the place from the owners (from Pittsburgh) ... And they maintained an apt. on the second floor for when they were in town. Full of Beautiful Antiques ... It was also full of stuffed animals! Thousands of them the couple had collected over the years adorned every room on the second floor. At least until Rio Guapo moved in.

Rio is Leila and Christopher's now blind dog. One of my dearest friends and a story unto himself for another time ... But integral to this part of the story.

Rio so loved stuffed animals that he was quite sure they all Belonged to him! He was known to snatch them from strollers in the French Quarter like he was collecting taxes! Stuffed animals were ALL HIS>

The Pittsburgh people grew to love Rio so much ... That they grew to love watching him tear up one of Their animals, they had once held so dear. "Except this" one they said ... Whatever happens Leila ... Please don't let him eat this one. It is very special to us.

Now ... I came to discover all this later. When I arrived my head was so full of thoughts I didn't even notice all the newly missing stuffed animals ... Much less the one they'd saved.

I sat at the desk after arriving ... Checking my email I find a letter from Cynthia. My parents God-Daughter ... She had lived with us for a couple of years while she was in college. A member of the family to be sure ... But we had all fallen out of contact over the years ... Until I called her and all but insisted that she make the considerable effort (Cynthia suffers from chronic back pain, and travel is always difficult.) to come to NY to see KT before she passed. They were sisters.

She did indeed end up coming and staying for the duration. With us at the end. Amazing. But this is an email. One of those story of commiseration you see passed around the Internet.

Goes like this ... An old woman had just lost her husband. It was particularly difficult for her grocery shopping ... As this was something they had always done together. And every time apparently ... He would run off to "grab something he forgot". Always a lie, it turns out, as he always came back with a dozen yellow roses.

So shopping was hard that day ... Then she spied a young woman at the meat counter. Holding a beautiful big T-Bone steak she would put it down (not letting go) ... Pick it up ... Put it down. The old woman couldn't stop herself ...

"Honey?"

The young woman only then notices and tries to explain ... "See my husband Loves T-Bones ... But we really ya can't afford it right now ..."

"Honey ... I lost my husband yesterday. Buy him the steak."

And she walked away. The young woman was so touched she caught the widow at the register.

"Thank you so much! You are absolutely right ... I bought him the steak. And these are for you!"

A dozen yellow roses.

A nice story ... But added to my swirling thoughts ... I'm fearful; it'll just muddy the water of my mind ... What the hell can I say? And then I look up on the desk I'm at and see the only stuffed animal that has survived Rio's insatiable appetite for the darn things.

Sitting on that desk is an identical (Same label) little tan version of "Ribbon" The stuffed animal Katie was never without during the last year of her life. The one she would reach for when angry, or sad, or happy. This was her Cajun twin. One of thousands. Staring at me. I knew what to say to Cynthia. Have fun at the funeral ... Katie, I'm quite sure, is here with me. She's wearing her Farrah Fawcett wig and we're going to Dance.

As Katie would say ...

All will be well
All manner of things shall be well
And even at the grave we make our song
hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah.



========================== More later...