Sisters

The Pandemic Stole the Gravity

/ Deb / 3 Comments

(“I’ve been falling so long it’s like gravity is gone, and I’m just floating”……)

While I don’t know that I’d use the term ‘falling’, 2021 has definitely been an unraveling of sorts. I’m still curious to see which knots will hold.

In the fall of 2019, I went to a Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears show at the Tractor Tavern with my sister. I was already standing on the river bank , and in looking up at those old beams and exposed brick, had one of those rare moments when my path seemed clear: What do I love more than old buildings and live music? What’s stopping me from opening my own venue?

At a party not too long after that (remember when we had parties?), I mentioned my idea to an old friend, who noted that my face lit up when I talked about it. I am sure that was true. Sometimes those around us can see things more clearly than we can. Anyway, the rest of 2019 wore on like any other year, and I was so excited about my barely-formed idea that I couldn’t stop talking about it, even convincing another friend to come on board despite the lack of any real plan. Of course, then 2020 hit, and I was suddenly very glad that I did not own a small live music venue.

At any rate, two years hence, “Gravity’s Gone” by Drive-By Truckers has been a bit of a theme song for me in the fall of 2021. Is it because:

  1. It makes me feel like I’m two stepping in the aforementioned Tractor Tavern, which is one of my favorite venues;
  2. The song makes reference to “champagne hand jobs”, which always makes me giggle. I’m still not really sure what this means (OK, maybe I have an idea). Anyway it’s a great phrase, one that I’ve yet to be able to work into casual conversation; or
  3. Another line in the song, which reminds me of my Grandma: “If you’re supposed to watch your mouth all the time I doubt your eyes would be above it”. (Such a great line; I mean really, can we all now just speak our truth like old women do?)

For those playing along, the official answer is #1. But of course it’s really all of the above.

Inside Right Wrist (or Navel), Please

/ Deb / 1 Comment

I was in a really good mood today.  The world seemed bright, I had extra energy and a creative spirit.  On paper, it made no sense.  I got home late last night from a show at The Crocodile (Chad Stokes, better known to me as the “Barefoot Musician in Your Living Room”.)  I got up early and got two kids out the door to school.  I should have been exhausted.

Lawerly obligations were on the calendar today, so I put on a suit and met with a potential client.  I gave good advice.  Every so often, I looked down and noticed the fading stamp on my inside right wrist from last night’s show at The Croc, and it made me smile.

It reminded me of when, in the mid 90’s, my sister and I thought it would be a good idea to get our navels pierced.  It hurt like hell and, not being the half-shirt type, I don’t think many people ever knew that I had it done.  I was a new lawyer at the time, and it felt like my own private rebellion against navy blue suits and deposition transcripts.  I got it taken out when I was pregnant with my oldest child, years later.  (The guy asked why I was getting it removed.  Apparently my about-to-pop belly wasn’t enough of a clue.  He said, “hey, come back after you have the kid, and I’ll put it back in for free”.  Alas, I have not returned.)

John Richards of Seattle’s beloved KEXP recently described music as “oxygen”.  Perfection.  I can’t describe it any better than that.  If you don’t understand the lure of live music, you will never get it.  But that’s why I was energized today.  Music fuels me.

We all wear many hats on a daily basis, with day jobs, obligations and lists. Even when you love what you do, shouldn’t you grab a little extra fuel when you can?  A little hint of something that energizes you (peeking out from the edge of your jacket sleeve) can go a long way.

The Pixies, Chad Stokes, and Pineapple

/ Deb / 2 Comments

A strange combination, right?  Here is the backstory:  I pay a lot of attention to things that are not really worthy of my attention.  It is probably not the most efficient use of my time, but still, I am slightly obsessed with signs, and the inter-connectedness of things…..people, events, music.  I wrote a blog post recently about my son’s take on a Pixies song that seemed to be following me. (“Oh, There is My Mind”).

Although I love the idea of signs, I rarely follow them.  To wit: I once thought that the discovery of my old Joshua Tree tee shirt was a sign that I should re-consider my decision to not attend the U2 concert.  (“A 1987 Bono for the New Year”).   That stupid tee shirt might very well have been a sign, but ultimately I didn’t follow it, even when, the night before the show, I had access to a ticket.  I also was once sure that a song at a wedding was beckoning me back to France (“Book the Villa, it’s a Sign”), but that hasn’t happened yet, either.  C’est la vie.

Spotty history aside, even if you are not a “sign” kind of person, you’ve got to admit that the following signs from last Saturday are enough to make you scratch your head.  I’m not committing to follow through on anything, but it does make me wonder what The Pixies, Chad Stokes, and pineapple have in common, and what they might be trying to tell me.

SATURDAY SIGN #1
I had tickets that night to see Chad Stokes (from Dispatch and State Radio) play with his new band at a small club.  I’ve always had an imaginary friendship with Chad, because he looks like a friend of my sister’s who brought a pineapple to my wedding.  (“On Sisters and Pineapple”).  I love everything about pineapples  – their symbolism of hospitality, the fact that they hail from Hawaii, and that they remind me of my wedding day.

My sister texted me to have fun at the show and to say hi to Chad for her.   I responded that maybe I should bring him a pineapple.  A few hours later, what do I find at a thrift store — a small wooden pineapple.  Spooky, right?  I bought it, of course.  I had two other wooden pineapples at home that were screaming to become a trio.  (Sorry, Chad).

SATURDAY SIGN #2
Pineapple in place with its two other buddies, we headed out for appetizers and drinks before the show.  My husband had not yet read my Pixies-related blog post, so he sat and read it while we waited. “Good post,” he said, and we started talking about the kids (this is what all parents talk about on their nights out, yes?)   Without missing a beat, the song came on.  That’s right — the “creepy” song — “Where Is My Mind?” — again.  Third time in only a few days.  It’s not that common of a song, is it?   Why will this song not leave me alone?

We looked at each other –  “Hmph. Strange…..”, but ultimately did not reach any conclusions about the meaning of this occurrence, and we headed out to the show.  And it was a lovely show…..very small venue, a great combination of Chad’s new songs, State Radio songs, and Dispatch songs….including one of my favorites, “Elias”, as an encore.  The rest of the evening was, blissfully, pineapple and Pixies-free.

So what does it all mean?  That I really have lost my mind?  That I should go to Hawaii?  That I need a weekend away with my sisters?  I’m still mulling over the possibilities — you know, for a Sign that, ultimately, I will not follow.

Ten

/ Deb / 3 Comments

I’m still wearing flip flops most days, my son wears shorts to school and my daughter refuses to wear a coat, but it’s undeniable that it is now fall. (I never realized that my children’s penchant for inappropriate seasonal attire came from me until I typed that sentence. Hmm.)  The rain is here and focus has shifted indoors, not that I really mind.  But it does feel like time to put away summertime music and concert memories.

Time, also, to put away the Pearl Jam cloud that I’ve been living under for the past few months. (“Alive…Encore Break“, “Twenty“).  But not, of course, without reflection.   Indulge me one last PJ post as I recount, in no particular order, my Top Ten favorite Pearl Jam concert memories (so far):

1.  Lollapalooza, July 1992, Kitsap County Fair Grounds.  My first time seeing them live, and I am totally hooked – no looking back.  Enough said.  (“Drop the Gyro and Run“).

2.  Magnuson Park, “Drop in the Park”, September 1992.   I’ve just started law school.  I probably should  be in the library, but the allure of a free show in Magnuson Park is infinitely more appealing than Crim Law.  Eddie climbs the trusses like a monkey and swings from a microphone cord.  The hook of PJ fandom and concert mania is set even further.

3.  RKCNDY, Seattle, 1994.  The secret show that never was.  Again, I should be home studying.   Instead, my friends and I go to see a side project of Mike McCready, certain that PJ will then play a secret show.  After his set, McCready grabs an electric guitar and says “we’ll be right back”.  This is it!  The secret show is going to happen!!  But then it doesn’t.

4.  The Gorge, 1993.   Pearl Jam opens for Neil Young.  Blind Melon opens for Pearl Jam, and their lead singer cusses out the crowd, saying he knows we are only there to see PJ.  Obviously he has issues, but my issue is that it’s a long-ass drive from the Gorge back home to Tacoma.

5.  Seattle Center Arena, 1993.   I finally notice that there are other band members besides Eddie Vedder.  (Dang, Stone is fun to watch!  And still is.)

6.  Key Arena, November 2000.  Shit, I have just turned 30 years old.  The band plays “Elderly Woman” (?!?)  Eddie, together with the crowd: “I just want to scream — Helloooooo….”  PJ had been snatched from me a year earlier when a friendship ended (“Alive, Encore Break“), but in that instant, I reclaim the band as mine.  Two people in front of us make out during the entire show.  I understand the sentiment, but not enough to avoid labelling them as idiots.  My sister and I throw things at them.  So much for being more mature at 30.

7.  Ben Harper show, Seattle, 2005.  A rare night out with my sisters after having two babies in two years.  An already amazing show from Ben, when Eddie shows up for the encore and joins him for a few songs. My sleep-deprived mind is blown.

8.  The Gorge, September 2005.  We have amazing dead-center seats.  The debate over “fist to the JAW” vs. “fist to the DOOR” intensifies, this round going to my husband.  Eddie tries to lure Tom Petty down from the hotel next door – “Hello Tom…….come down Tom….” (he doesn’t).  A damn near perfect setlist start to finish, including one of my favorite versions (ever) of “Yellow Ledbetter”, which segues into a cover of “Baba O’Reilly”.  I have a recording of this show, and I run to it all the time.  You can’t help but pick up your pace when “Porch” comes on.

9.  The Gorge, July 2006.  It is, no lie, 109 degrees.  Proving my theory that fans love it when musicians say the F word, the crowd goes wild when Eddie observes, “it’s fucking HOT!”   Eddie sneaks out to the roof above the sound board to sing “Given to Fly”.  Amazing.  Perfect.  And yes, fucking hot.

And, finally…….the most recent show, destined to be one of my favorites, for a million reasons:

10.  Vancouver BC, September 2011.  Long Canadian-cash-only beer lines, and even longer cab lines.  We (kind of, almost) see our friend get in a fight over a cab, but he emerges victorious.  I get my Concert Moment, and then some, when it seems that 95% of the setlist has been channeled directly from my brain to the band.  (I got a spot at Lukin’s!)  It’s my husband’s birthday, and PJ sings Happy Birthday to him (well, actually they are singing to one of their crew, but really, what are the odds?).   I punch him — “sweetie, Eddie is singing to YOU!!!”  He is appreciative, but not as excited about it as I am.

A pretty darn perfect weekend all around, topped with international intrigue as we see two people arrested at the border on the way home.  Were they smuggling plans for a secret Seattle PJ show back into the U.S.?  Because I am still waiting for one…

A Badger and a One-Eyed Toad

/ Deb / 1 Comment

It’s not often that an event pans out exactly as you hope it will.   My Dispatch-Berkeley-Concert weekend with my sister had big shoes to fill (“On Sisters and Pineapple”).  It turned out to be Everything. I. Wanted. And. More.

We settled in to a dusky Berkeley evening, beer in hand, and as the show started, I did my mental concert checklist: free-spirited dancing guy who I could watch during the show?  Check.  People at least as old as me, or older?  Double Check.  Hip parents with two kids about my kids’ ages?  Check.  (LOVE that!!)

The band members stage diving, a’la Grunge, circa 1992?  Not so sure about that, but it was funny.

I knew Dispatch would put on a great live show.  In 2007, they were the first independent band to sell out Madison Square Garden….not one night, but three in a row.  All those fans can’t be wrong.   As cheesy as it sounds, my heart soared when they hit the opening notes of the first song.

I’ve always wanted to build a concert playlist, and I just might have built this one.  I heard nearly every song I wanted, and “The General” (my kids’ favorite sing-along song) got all the slackers on their feet.  I usually hate new material during concerts, but I tolerated some (left me scratching my head as to whether this was a one-time reunion tour, or whether they are back together).    Two encores later, we were released into the night with “Out Loud”, the final song and my daughter’s favorite (“You Know I Would”).   I gave a silent shout-out to my girl, sleeping soundly 1,000 miles away amidst a mountain of stuffed animals.

You can keep your huge, overblown concerts with special effects that rival a SuperBowl halftime show.   I don’t want to watch through binoculars or see the lead singer up on a huge screen.  I want music that I can feel in my gut, played by guys who seem to be having as good a time as the crowd.

Make it happen under a beautiful sky with someone I love, and really, that’s all I need.  Not such a tall order after all.

On Sisters and Pineapple

/ Deb / 1 Comment

I am a list maker by nature.  Even if I don’t have it written down somewhere, I have the list in my head.  In my head is a list of bands that I like, but have never seen in concert.   The only band left on that list is Dispatch, and I thought they would likely stay there, because they broke up long ago and moved on to other projects.

And so, back in January when Dispatch announced a reunion tour, I was all over it.  I figured I could talk someone into going with me.   The weekend is finally here, and I am headed to San Francisco today with my youngest sister for a weekend of music and fun.

She should be invested in Dispatch by now, because I’ve dragged her to see State Radio, Chad Stokes’ post-Dispatch band. (“There Will be Vodka”).  Chad looks like a friend of hers who brought me a pineapple as a wedding present.  In some odd way, this makes me feel like I know Chad.  And he, too, seems like he would bring someone a pineapple.  It really was a sweet, simple gesture.  I don’t know whatever became of the pineapple.  Most likely it went the route of the leftover booze from the wedding, which is to say that it was consumed by my middle sister and my husband’s brother.    We arrived home from our honeymoon to discover that they were now a couple.

Perhaps they ate the celebratory pineapple, and it brought them good luck.  They are now married and expecting their second child in a few weeks.  I really hope that baby stays put, and isn’t born while I am far away.   It seems strange for two of us to be going without her.  My sisters and I made an agreement a few years ago to forego birthday presents for each other, but to make sure that we got away together on weekend trips, concerts, and the like.  Life gets in the way and we haven’t always been successful, but we try.

It’s bittersweet, but I am still excited to be heading of of town, and she will be there with us in spirit.  The concert on Saturday night will be great, I’m sure I will get my Concert Moment, (“Oh, You Like the Banjo, Eh?”), and I will delete the list of Favorite-Yet-Unseen bands from my head.

But regardless, you can’t go wrong with San Francisco.  My husband lived there before we got married, and it is the site of many great memories.  We both love the city so much that, immediately after our Seattle mountainside wedding, we flew to San Francisco for our wedding night, and left for our honeymoon the next morning.  As I am writing this, I am now realizing that it will also be weird to be in that city without him.

Pineapples, live music, sisters, weddings, babies….think it’s possible I am putting too much nostalgia pressure on the weekend?  I’m pretty sure there is not enough room in the overhead compartment for all of this, but I will try to cram it in anyway.