Tag Archives: Be. Just Be.

Woulda/Shoulda/Coulda…1972

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I do it often.
I hear somebody say “I wouldn’t have changed anything…” and I think:
What? The. Fuck!!
Really??

I do like to play Woulda/Shoulda/Coulda.
I have no idea how my life would’ve turned out of I had taken different forks in the road.
I am quite happy in 2019. I like the path that I’m on.
But that doesn’t keep me from having reminiscent fantasies.

Shelly gets subjected to me playing W/S/C sometimes, especially when I talk about “what I shoulda done in 2000.” (That is a story for another day…)
Her reply to “w/s/c scenario 2000”: “But we never woulda met.”
Most likely we wouldn’t have.
And it’s all just guess work as to whether or not an executed “coulda or shoulda” woulda been a better choice.
-=-=-=-
So here’s where I was in March, 1972, i.e. at the forks in the road:
Just out of the Army.
Biggest wad of cash I’d ever had in my life from separation pay.
Best physical shape of my life. The four months of basketball had me in shape.
That spring and summer I thought about what to do next. (Mostly I just got high…)
Four of five months later I was in college at southeast mo st in cape girardeau.

If I time travel back to 3/20/72, here’s my W/S/C:
I woulda found a job as a roadie for a band.
At 23 I coulda done some lifting and hauling and traveling.
When I’m dreaming big, I imagine that I am packing it up and tearing it down in 1972 on Jackson Browne’s first national tour.
I never did sleep all that much, and in my 20’s I’d have considered anything over 150 hours of shut-eye a month excessive. I woulda loved being the first to come and the last to leave.
Just think—if I woulda landed on his road crew in 1972 I coulda been rolling cases and lifting amps and one of the guys he was singing about 5 years later when he released “Load out.”

There is a site that features “song meanings provided by the songwriters themselves.”
They attribute this to Jackson Browne: “”The Load-Out” is a love song to the audience and the crew. I was always tight with certain members of the crew – my manager used to be my crew chief; he used to tune guitars. They always took care of you. Then this one turns into “Stay” – on that, we’re actually asking the audience to stay, because we don’t want to stop playing.”

Just think—it coulda been awesome—or a disaster.
Most likely I woulda been dead before “Running on Empty” was released.
Discipline has never been my strong suit and I do have a tendency toward excess.
I mighta tried to keep up with Warren Zevon slamming back booze.
I coulda been sharing downers with Phyllis Major and ODed too.
Or I coulda been hit by a bus.
-=-=-=
A few Realities:
1. The reality is that I woulda done lots of things differently in Cape Girardeau, but I have absolutely no regrets about that choice. I had good times at SEMO. I have great memories from those days. I have friendships from those days that I cherish.
2. The odds of some guy like me getting a job as a roadie for anybody woulda been slim. The odds of it being for J.B? Not a chance. It’s a nice little fantasy tho.
3. And I’ll always be baffled by people who “wouldn’t have changed anything.” Really??

Scatter me here and yon….

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Let’s get this outta the way right up front: we are ALL gonna die.

This is one of several docs that will be in the “Black Audit Bag” after I have said my final “Fuck Me!!”
The “BAB” will include not only legal and financial documents. There will be directives, keepsakes, and copies of some the things that will make their way to this blog…starting with this one.

I recently wrote that Shelly is gonna be spreading my ashes in 5 places. Subject to change, these places (listed in the order that I first stepped foot there) are:

1. Weiss Cemetery, outside Doe Run, MO.
Take Buck Mountain Road south of town; about a quarter mile past the bridge over the creek you take a right on Effin Road. (That is not an F’in joke!)
You’ll see the gate on the right. Drive 150 yards through the field to the gate into the fenced two acres.

A little of me will get buried in the family cemetery.
Shelly will scatter my ashes at the other 4 places.
I need to nail the specific plot in the family cemetery at some point. Close to my folks, but with the appropriate distance.
There will be a headstone. Maybe small, flat to the ground, with only this engraved: Steve Weiss 1948- 20–.
Maybe a stand up stone with more info and an emoji or two.
The ashes that get buried will be in either a Prince Albert pocket size can or my favorite reefer stash box.

2. Cape Perpetua, OR
In 1978 my late mother-in-law called this the most beautiful place she had ever been. The next year a picture from the crest looking south was the cover of the annual Rand McNally road atlas.
It is my favorite place along the Orygun coast….and I’ve driven every foot of the 363 miles of Orygun’s Route 101 numerous times.
Cape Perpetua is about 2 miles south of Yachats on 101. It is a typical PNW headland, forming a high steep bluff above the ocean. At its highest point, the cape rises to over 800 feet above sea level. From its crest, one can see 70 miles of coastline and on a clear day as far as 37 miles out to sea. A great spot for whale viewing.
There are some unique features at Cape Perpetua: Cook’s Chasm, Spouting Horns and Devil’s Churn.
Some of my ashes will get tossed into the latter.
Devil’s Churn is a long, wide crack in the coastal rock that fills with each ocean wave, occasionally exploding as incoming and outgoing waves collide. I can sit there for what seems like forever watching the power of the incoming waves.    

3. Siesta Key Beach, Sarasota, FL
The first time I stepped foot on this beach was in early 1989. I was still in Portland and was on an AA&Co. project….sign-off manager on the tax software for S-corp returns.
The project was a pain in the ass. Things were way fucked up at A-plus Tax.
The beach was everything I’d heard…and more.
A couple of years earlier the “Great International White Sand Beach Challenge” said it had the “whitest and finest sand in the world.”
The sand is 99% pure Quartz. It is soft and cool on the feet. In a word, it is AWESOME.

We moved to Sarasota in May of 1989. Our kids were born at Sarasota Memorial on 12/30/89 and 5/30/91.
During the 7 years that we lived in SRQ we hit every beach between Anna Maria and Marco Island.
Siesta Key was hands down the favorite.
Many weekend mornings found us on the white sands of Siesta from 9 am until noon.
I never expect to have mail delivered to me again anywhere in Floriduh…but I hope to spend time on Siesta Key beach again before my ashes do.  

4. The Rock House, Reeds Spring, MO
Several of my ramblings and reminisces center around this place.
I’m not a “things happen for a reason” thinker. I’m in the “things happen, that’s all they ever do” camp.
But I do believe that sometimes a place, and the people there, can change ones life.
My life certainly changed because of The Rock House.
2011 was a helluva year for me. In the depths for much of it. My life really started to change for the positive after the first house concert I ever attended: Three Penny Acre at The Rock House on October 8, 2011.

We’re all gonna die, but unless we self-annihilate we don’t know when that will be.
Maybe Bruce & Jeanette will have moved to Baja for winters and Oregon for summers by the time Shelly is “Sprinkling Steve from coast to coast.” A new owner might not want my ashes scattered there.
Maybe this special place won’t be a receptacle for my dust…or for my wake (the details of that party will be one of the directives in the BAB).
That would be a shame.

5. Leadville, Colorado
I used to tease Shelly about her thinking that Colorado is the center of the universe. It was a toss-up between Leadville and Golden as to which was the true center.
The first time I was in the highest incorporated city in the United States (at 10,142 ft) was July 28, 2015.
I just read my journal entries from those 3 days in 2015.
My favorite afternoon there, on 7/30/15, included flash fried brussel sprouts at Tennessee Pass Cafe, beer on the deck at the Pastime Bar, a “george thorogood trio” at the Scarlet Tavern and this line from my journal: “We staggered back to the hotel. (“we” meaning me…)”

Shelly had bragged often about Leadville before our first visit, and not just about her favorite pizza in the world from High Mountain Pie.
The experiences in Leadville exceeded the lofty expectations. (So did the pizza…)
We’re spending her birthday this year in Leadville. I’m looking forward to it.  

There are legal restrictions regarding scattering ashes. Not in water. Not on private land. Yada Yada Yada.
I don’t care.
My ashes won’t care.
Shelly, the urn is in your court….

A Shindig…some changes…an admonition

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Seven month’s ago I threw a party. A rarity for me. I’ve never been much on throwing parties.
Called my party “The 25,590 Day Shindig,” celebrating 70 successful trips around the sun.
Held it at a place which will receive a tablespoon or two of my ashes after these bones burn.
[There is a list of places. Shelly will be hitting five spots based on the current list. Maybe you’ll see her at one of them.]

Music for The Shindig was provided by some very talented folks who I was fortunate enough to have met at the magical place where we held the party: The Rock House in Reeds Spring, MO.
Lucky me heard both of the bands who played my party for the first time back in the fall of 2011, pretty soon after I moved back to MO.
Unbelievably lucky me, and a music room full of my lucky friends, listened to these same bands at The Shindig on 10/6/18.
I now call these singer-songwriters friends. And vice verse.
I am a lucky old coot.

I saw two of the guys who played The Shindig (Jeff and David) on a recent Wednesday in KC. They play together now on most Wednesday’s at Mike Kelly’s Westsider.
When I first heard them they weren’t playing together: Jeff played with Bob; Dave with The Nace Brothers.
Things change.
These guys playing together once a week is a good change.

The Nace Brothers played the Rock House on April 6.
They have a different bass player than when I first saw them in 2011.
The new guy (Chase) is one talented young dude.
The band changed.
From where I sit, it is a really good change.

My friend Jeri, who haven’t known all that long, saved me a seat at The Westsider that recent Wednesday.
I met her because of a band called the Rainmakers…in which Jeff plays lead guitar.
Jeri recently retired. She moved to Kansas City from Houston. (The one in Texas county, Missouri.)
Things change.
The move to KC looks good on Jeri.
-=-=-=
The subject of my shindig came up for a bit that Wednesday, as it seems to quite often. Heard the word “epic.”
Seems like a good time was had by all, but I will make one change at the next Shindig that I host.
(I don’t know when that might be. Certainly no later than on or about day 27,393, 9/13/23.)

I expect this change to result in some grumbling. Tough shit.
There WILL be Name Tags.
At the 75 year marker, I’m gonna follow through on an idea I had before the party on October 6, 2018:
Everyone….and I mean EVERYONE….will have on a name tag.
Everyone WILL provide some info.
Everyone will be GLAD they filled out the answer to 5 questions.
Everyone will have one (and probably several) conversations with someone that they would have only smiled at if they hadn’t been wearing a 3×5 name tag.
Everyone will thank me for the conversation starter. I’m confident of it.

My name tag will look like this:
NAME: Steve Weiss
BORN: Bonne Terre, MO
HOMETOWN: Springtown, MO
CONNECTION to Steve: I am Steve.
PASSIONS: Music; vegetable gardens; roadtrips; March Madness; staying connected with people.
-=-=-=
One thing will NOT change. There will be a guestbook for “Shindig…Round 2.”
I love the guestbook from that day in early October, 2018. I pick it up every once in awhile for a quick spin.
Some people wrote only a dozen words. Others took up most of a page. I love each and every entry.

   

Reading a few pages from the 25,590 Day Shindig guestbook always helps me accomplish the Jimmy Valvano trio: “To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.” ESPY Awards, March 4, 1993.

I watch that full speech a couple of times a year.
The 37 second clip gets watched more often than that.
-=-=–=
Roll with the changes.
Laugh.
Think.
Tear up.
And Be.
Just Be.

Things that survived the move to MO: Part Two

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I’ve been doing some spring cleaning. I’m calling it “packing to move.” I don’t plan on going anywhere soon, but I wanta get a head start for when that day does come.

On Wednesday I went through the 2 drawers of my nightstand. I shredded or recycled about a foot-and-a-half tall stack of stuff.
I came across quite a few gems. Mostly cards with notes in them, several letters and some thought-provoking goodies that will continue to move with me, whenever and wherever that might be.
One of the goodies was credit-card sized. It has moved cross country three times since 1996. It reminded me of why I left AATT-whatever.
I loved most of my time at Arthur Andersen & Co.
I hated some of it.
But “Core Values” was taking it too far.
More on that later….


Friday I went through my closet. I’m not a big “shoe guy” but 9 pair will have new owners soon.
I’ve used the “reverse hanger” approach the past few years. Almost everything left in my closet after adopting this annual exercise is something I wear often, or which falls into the “I could never get rid of that…let me tell you a story” category.
The shirt that I wore the day that I surprised my boss in Sarasota with an out-of-nowhere resignation hasn’t been worn since 1996. It falls into the latter bucket.

Paula (my ex) knew that I planned to give notice at my weekly one-on-one with the office managing partner. She sorta freaked when she saw what I put on that morning: the red, white and blue recruiting shirt for what was then called “Arthur Andersen Technology Solutions”…proudly displayed on the shirt. (“AATT-whatever” had gone thru several name changes in the 7 years that I had been in Floriduh.)

The other verbiage on the shirt: “Make the right choice.”

Her: “You can’t have that on when you tell him that you’re quitting! What the heck??”
I told her:
1. He won’t even pick up on it.
2. Plus I’ve already got an answer, but I don’t expect to get the opportunity to use it. (I didn’t.)

Her: “Yeah? So what are you gonna say when he comments on the shirt and the slogan?”
“It’ll be short. Direct. And accurate.”

The reply in my head: “Good things come in threes, Rodger. I made the right choice when I accepted the offer to come to work for Andersen in 1982. I made the right choice to accept the transfer to Sarasota in 1989. And now I’m making the right choice for me and my family.”

I honestly don’t remember much of the conversation after I dropped the bomb. I didn’t have a job lined up. I had a resume on the street, and had even had a long-shot interview (there is a story there).
He offered to help me with my job search. He did. I ended up with a couple of options that would have kept me at Andersen. But I knew that 14+ years was enough.
-=-=-=-
Those “Core Values” just didn’t ring true. I was expected to be the evangelist to 150 people…selling what was on the credit card. Couldn’t do it.
The 5 components: Integrity; Commitment to quality results; Balance; Initiative; Interdependence.
Who could argue with those 5?
Me. Bigly.

He wanted to know what lead to my decision. We talked about a few specifics regarding how the words on the credit card meshed (or didn’t!) with the reality at AATT-whatever. I’m not sure if we talked about all 5.
We did focus on 2 of them.

I started with Integrity. “We say what we think and we do what we say.”
Arthur Andersen founded the firm in 1913. The motto “Think straight, talk straight” was taught to him by his mother.
I was on the periphery as the “Core Values” were developed. My position when I was asked to comment: this definition is ridiculous…it should simply be “think straight, talk straight.” I lost.
I told him that I was was leaving because: politics is one thing; back-stabbing is another. Saying one thing and doing another, especially by “leaders” was unacceptable. It had turned cut throat, and I was getting out.

Then we talked Balance: “We balance multiple demands on our lives, including personal and work, individual and team, current and future opportunities.”
What total Fucking bullshit that was.
Teamwork for the last year or so had been merely lip-service….and I didn’t see that changing.
Personal life? What a novel freaking concept.
Our kids were 5 and 6. I was working 80 hour weeks. Too much road warrior time. And then all the war inside the building?
Adi-fucking-os.
I was gonna find some balance.

I got lucky. I found it at a company that got me back to Orygun for four years.
Earlier I wrote about an epiphany that lead me to walk away from that position too.

Above I wrote that I hated some of my time at Andersen, and I did. But I learned a lot, and two things I learned: don’t let heavy inertia win; don’t let a job make your life miserable.
Change it; live with it; or leave it.

I like what Dawes says in “Quitter”:
“Quit wasting my time because pretty soon you’ll find
It’s the only thing of value that we own
You’re gonna have to quit everything, until you find one thing you won’t…”

 

My Musical Epiphany

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epiphany [ih-pif-uh-nee] a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience

I could call the conversation in my head in early March a couple of years ago an epiphany. (More on that internal dialogue in a minute….) . In fact, I do call it “My Musical Epiphany.”
The experience and the end result of it were very different from “Epiphany #1.”
This time the experience itself was solitary. It was on a long walk alongside Sinking Creek at Echo Bluff State Park early on a Sunday morning on the last day of an awesome roadtrip. (Our first trip to the Ryman; TTB in concert; found a diner that we loved; discovered and explored Echo Bluff S.P.; just the two of us with no cell service, a fireplace and balcony with a view…and more.)

This time the epiphany didn’t result in me quitting a job and moving cross country like Epiphany #1….but there was a bit of a lifestyle change.
On that fateful stroll in early 2017 I decided that if a show that I wanted to see was playing within 4 hours of me that I’d buy tickets. (On occasions I have exceeded the 240 minute “cap”…)
What happened next is referred to as “Ticket Buying Thursday” in my journal. That afternoon I bought tickets to: Dawes at Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa; Joe Jackson at the Uptown Theater in KC; Tom Petty (with Joe Walsh opening) in Little Rock; and The Wheels of Soul Tour (Tedeschi Trucks Band, with Hot Tuna and the Wood Brothers opening) at The Amp in Rogers.
I have seen more shows in the last two years that I did back in the 80’s in Portland…and I saw LOTS of shows “back in the day.”

The Conversation?

Leon Russell.
Roy Orbison.
Death and Dying.
Life and Living.

1. Leon.
Here’s an excerpt of my FB status on 11/13/16:
“As we got in the car to head home from downtown after a stroll thru downtown to walk off breakfast, I heard a teaser on NPR of this song…and I reacted when they cut if off: “I love that song…don’t tease me!!” But I didn’t hear the awful news.
Then we get home and I learn that one of my heroes has died. This hurts.
He was scheduled to be the opening act for the Tedeschi Trucks Band at the first show I’ll ever see at the Ryman. That night next March in Nashville will be bitter sweet.”
{The song I linked to was “A song for you” Goosebumps.}
I get teary every time I think about that November morning.

2. Roy.
In a piece I wrote on here:
“For some reason that I don’t remember, I did NOT go see Roy Orbison at the Schnitzel on October 22, 1998. Roy had made this fantastic come-back. He had dubbed himself “Lefty Wilbury” in the super group The Traveling Wilbury’s. Roy was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of fame in 1987. Lefty Wilbury was quoted as saying “It’s very nice to be wanted again, but I still can’t quite believe it.”
I couldn’t believe it when his gig at The Schnitz ended up being one of his last shows. He was dead 40 some days after he left PDX. The man with the magical voice was dead at 52.
The lesson I learned from that: YOLO.”

3. Death and Dying.
We’re all gonna die.
Period.

4. Life and Living.
Life is for Living.
Period.

Lessons.
I learned the very same thing from My Musical Epiphany as I did from Epiphany #1.
I have to keep re-learning that lesson all the time….

Life is precious. Enjoy every minute you have and enjoy every bite of every sandwich. Tell the people who you love that you love them. And be. Be kind. Be nice.

Just Be.

We’re all gonna die

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Sometime in the late 90’s I started looking at the online edition of the St. Francois County Daily Journal several times a week. Mostly I just look at the obituaries.
The D.J. is the only daily in the county where I was born, where my 92-year old dad lives today and where he has lived the vast majority of his life. My Mom had 4 brothers and 2 sisters. If you don’t count time in the military, none of her siblings ever lived outside the county. The total population of St. Francois County, MO is about 65K.
I know very few people there. I went to grade school and junior college county. After dropping out of school, I got drunk most days. I broke several other laws for most of the next 18 months until I was drafted. I haven’t lived there in almost 50 years. But I skim the obits daily.
The county has 2 Wal-Mart Supercenters. If on a busy Saturday I should camp out at each store for 4 hours, on one of the benches by an exit, I doubt that the number of people I’d recognize, or who would recognize me, would reach double digits. Especially if you don’t count blood relatives. And I’m not sure that my 2nd cousins and I would even notice each other.

These days, and for the past 12 or 15 years, I check out the obits almost every day.
Why?
Primarily for conversation fodder.
And sometimes to feel grateful.

Today the conversations that the 10 or so obits elicit begin with me saying either : “Dad I see that __ __ died. She was 88….” or “Dad, did you know Frankie Weiss? Her dad was Les Weiss.”
Sometimes his answer will take up a good portion of our daily half-hour, give or take.
Other times, question and answer don’t combine for more than a minute.
Some times we’ve got other things to talk about and the topic of who died never comes up…especially during March when it’s basketball tournament time.

My Mom died July 1, 2013. She was 88. I miss her every day. But there were times when calling her could be a huge downer.
If a 16-ounce glass contained 8 ounces of liquid, mom wouldn’t call it half-full…she’d have it verging on being bone dry, especially the last 8 or 9 years.
She did have some health issues. A couple of heart attacks and bypass surgery. But Mom became a whiner…bigly. She could suck the air out of the room that I was calling from a thousand miles away and in a new york minute. “I don’t know why the Lord has done this to me? Why, oh why, oh why??
Mom didn’t have cancer; she wasn’t on dialysis; she didn’t liver failure. Her primary complaint was her back.
I became very good at starting phone calls with a word other than “how.”
Never “How are you?”
No “How are things in Doe Run?”

I decided that the obits would help the conversations become more enjoyable.
I’m a data driven dude. And this data would be fodder. The percentages.
Even after I started every call with something other than the “how” word, Mom would manage to bring up how awful God was treating her. I would quickly say something like this: “I looked at the 10 obituaries in the Journal earlier today, and only 1 of those people was older than you!”
Sometimes she would be older than all 10. It was rare that more than 30% of the 10 were older than her.

Confession: I can be a asshole with my words. I have been called “direct” and foul-mouthed. (Note: I have mellowed and lightened up with age. People will attest to that too.)
Sometimes at my worst (and her whiny worst too) I might spew: “Mom, 9 of the 10 people who are being covered with dirt were younger than you, and not one of them died from chronic back pain….”
But I always continued “…and we need to be thankful for and enjoy every day.”
After 2004, most of the times I said “we gotta enjoy every sandwich Mom…or every piece of pie that you bake!”
Mom would agree. We’d laugh. We’d say “I love you…talk to you tomorrow.”

So that’s the conversation element of checking out the obits.

The gratitude was two fold.
1. I was grateful that I could talk to my folks every day.
2. I was especially grateful when my comeback to Mom’s whining was “….and 4 of the people on the list of 10 were younger than me Mom!!”
Keep in mind that I started doing this many years ago. I wasn’t old enough to draw social security. And some of the 10 who had stopped breathing were younger than me.
I’d often just sit and think about the percentages.
Think.
And give thanks.

The local paper here in Springfield runs a grid most days of those who aren’t having a full “display obituary” published.
The data: Name, Age, Town/State, Death Date, Arrangements.
Today’s grid has 34 names.
My Dad is 92. 7 were older than him. 20.6%
I’m 70. 11 were younger than me. 32.4%
That makes me think. The percentages.
And give thanks.

There are countless songs about death and dying.
The title of this song by one of my favorite bands gets right to the point. The last four lines sum it all up:
“So try not to get upset
Everything is fine
Hey, it’s not that big a deal
We’re all gonna die”

Until then, you know what to do.
Enjoy the sandwich. Give lots of hugs. Lots & Lots of hugs.
And be Kind.

Bucket List Update

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Man-oh-man do I need to get busy or what??
I have been a total sluggard since I posted my bucket list just a bit short of two years ago, mid-march of ’17. Yet somehow I was diagnosed with fatigue on my birthday last September and advised to slow down…
And I had TOTALLY forgotten about the “My ultimate bucket list” book that I had snatched from the bargain bin…which has been ignored.

The first 8 items on my bucket list from 12/3/12 are still there. Untouched. Many not even thought about. Maybe I need to do something about that, at least for a few of them.
I also need to add one:
“Go up in a single engine plane with Dad and Wayne.” (Short version: I won a 2 hour flight at a silent auction fundraiser. That was back in late 2017. We haven’t been able to make Dad and Wayne’s schedules mesh.
I have never seen Wayne. We have exchanged several texts. We’ve chatted on the phone some. Wayne has offered to fly to Farmington where we’d pick up/drop off Tissell*. That would depend on whether Dad was coming over to stay with my sister, or if he was heading home to Doe Run. Dad would love flying across the state.
We’d take the longer, scenic, southern route with Dad in the plane. That trip would take a lot more than 2 hours. Wayne didn’t have to offer this.
I had heard that he was a fine guy the night that I stole the flight, valued at $800, for only $180 bucks. Without even laying eyes on Wayne I’m positive that he is a helluva guy. I expect Tissell* to feel the same way. Now I just need to get Wayne, me and the 92+ year old up in the air!!)

Back to my B.L.
I did get to the Rock-n-Roll HOF in 2013. But we were only there for a few hours. Not nearly long enough. I need to get back there. 2019 seems like it would be a good year to visit Cleveland….and Wooster.
This time I need to plan my trip so that I can knock off the next item on the list. And the one before too. I’m thinking I will be able to experience weightlessness on some of the 17 roller coasters at Cedar Point…tied for second most in the world.

The item “Take a road trip thru the lower 48” lacks precision. I think it would be very cool to take one roadtrip that did get you into all 48, but I’m not sure that is what I had in mind. I have taken a road trip or 3 since 12/3/12, and will be taking more. As for now, I’d like to cross off the remaining 18 that I haven’t been in since then. Visiting 30 so far is not all that shabby…

Of the last 12 B.L. items, I .can only cross off two of them, both music related: we’ve seen 3 shows at Red Rocks; and Jackson Browne 4 times.
-=-=-=
My 12/3/12 Bucket List has 24 items.
I have been able to cross off only 4. (and that includes a favorable interpretation of the roadtrip item…)
That is pretty pathetic.
And unless I win lotto, unexpectedly inherit a huge chunck of change or become friends with someone like Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie) I most likely won’t cross off many of the other items on the list, although they aren’t really all that spendy.
That’s OK, because if I wrote the list today a bunch of earlier items wouldn’t make the list. They’d be replaced with things like this:
Take a road trip that includes: seeing old friends; visiting new venues; eating something delicious with old friends; making plans to see each other again.

Venues would have a separate list:
9:30 Club in D.C.
The Tower Theatre in Upper Darby
Stubbs in Austin
…just to name a few

So would artists:
Adele
War on Drugs
Don Henley
…and more. LOTS more.

Someday soon I need to finally take that spin thru the bargain bin b.l. book. I’ll leave it here beside my laptop for awhile and see what happens….

NOTE:
*Tissell is my dad’s abbreviated nickname.
Melvin’s full moniker: Melviney You-Tissell You-Bertel You-Tom-Tom Bud Fartner
There is story there.
That’s for another time.
Be.

2018 Christmas Letter & JibJab

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The dreaded letter (reproduced below if you dare) will get sent to some folks via e-mail.  They’ll also get this link to the JibJab: https://www.jibjab.com/view/make/disco_christmas/b079887c-1399-46b3-99d9-734253cdf3e0

-=-==–=-=

Hope your 2018 has been a good year. Mine was a dandy. Saw more live music than ever. It was Awesome.

Crossed several artists off my “bucket list”…a bunch of old coots like me: Moody Blues, Steve Winwood, Poco, Dave Mason, Judy Collins, Bruce Hornsby, Todd Rundgren, Gordon Lightfoot.
One of my bucket list shows was the best show I saw in 2018….and I saw a LOT. The concert on June 8 at The Peabody in STL was an absolute Spectacle. Hard to describe. And unforgettable. David Byrne ROCKS!!
One bucket list artist was terrible. Thankfully sweet Judy blue eyes played and sang with Stephen Stills. He sux. It made me sad. She can still sing. And she can still rock it in heels.

I stalked a couple of folks in 2018….twice I saw 3 shows in a 4 day span.
I saw Neil Young’s solo acoustic tour in STL, and then in Chicago twice. Killer. (Plus I got to spend time with my bestie from my first college experiences. Charlie babysat me often when I was hitting the sauce….Thanks!)
Shelly and I saw the Wheels of Soul tour in STL, and twice at Red Rocks. The show was the Tedeschi Trucks Band, with the Drive-by Truckers and Marcus King opening. Three great nights.

Had an absolute blast at Folk Alliance in KC in February. I shoulda let Jeanette talk me into this years ago!! Music, music, music. Not many zzzzz’s while at FAI.
She also talked me into square dancing at the Rock House. Do-si-do Mofo!!!

I made a solo trip to Orygun. Saw several friends. Stayed in some interesting places: the Bad Boy room at The White Eagle in PDX; the lighthouse room at a small property in Yachats; a tent on the banks of the Metolius River. Crossed another artist off my list when I saw Amos Lee twice in 6 days. Both times with friends.
A friend who I hadn’t seen in 51 years fixed us breakfast in Bend. We coulda talked longer. Next time.

There were a few lowlights too.
1. My garden was disappointing. I’ll blame it on the weather. It was hot. And dry. Then it turned cool and wet. Then the cycle started all over again. It was unpredictable, even for this schizophrenic state.
Had luck with a couple of crops: radishes and green beans. Two of my favorites were slim pickens: tomatoes and brussel sprouts. The latter were abysmal. WTF?
2. On my birthday I was diagnosed with “Fatigue”…and I have the document from the doc to prove it. That’s what I get for burning the candle at both ends for too long. So I slowed down…a little, for a little while. I don’t ever expect to “act my age”…why the heck would I want to do that? But moderation in some things, more sleep, and more H20 might be smart.
3. I gave a house full of people a “do you remember the Thanksgiving when” story, but I did learn a new word: if you wanta get the details of my syncope event go to:  http://slw913.com/life-events/isnt-it-ironic-or-not/

The highlight of my 2018 was the first weekend of October.
I threw myself a party to celebrate completing 70 trips around the sun. The 25,590 Day Shindig took place at The Rock House in Reeds Spring 23 days after my birthday. The timing was driven by the schedules of the bands out of KC, and by my own concert schedule.
The party was Epic. Family, friends, music, food, more music, a pie auction and a silent auction of items by some artist and musician friends to benefit one of my favorite non-profits: The Rock House Center for the Arts. Then there was more music.
Some of the guests traveled from Floriduh, Hotlanta, Chicago, or the other side of MO. We took over the Shady Acre motel in Branson West for the entire weekend, and spilled over into another motel.
Damn…I’m a lucky old coot.

One more highlight ahead of us in 2018: Shelly and I will be making our “Third Annual” trip to Gulf Shores, AL at the end of December. This time we booked for 10 days at the beach.
We don’t do much while we’re there….and we love that. We watch the sunrise over the gulf in the morning; go for a morning walk; have brunch and mimosas on the balcony; take a nap; take another walk; watch sunset on the gulf; binge watch DVDs that we pack for the trip. Repeat.
Year 3 of our Christmas at the beach is gonna have a couple of special treats: guests after Christmas. Bruce&Jeanette (they ARE The Rock House) will be crashing in the condo’s second bedroom for a few nights after visiting her folks and family in Nashville. Tom&Gloria will be coming down from Cumming, GA and will be at the same property. There will probably be a picture and a story or two.

I’ve never been much on planning. More about just being. But I do have a few things I wanta do in 2019:
1. See more live music than I saw this year. That won’t be easy. I’m off to a good start with 5 concert and 2 festival tickets in hand already for events in 2019.
2. Get to Orygun in late August or early September for at least a week.
3. Get to Colorado in July…for longer than we did this year. That will make both of us happy.
4. Take a road trip “back east” after the 15th Annual Music Festival. Check off a few bucket list items…and spend time with friends in several cites&states….some who I haven’t seen in double-digit years.
A 3 week trip for me; 1 week for Shelly. Not sure where her flight will land. Shelly will mark several states off her bucket list, and I’ll get to Vermont for the first time and round out the lower 48.
I wanta ride some roller coasters at Cedar Point. I wanta spend more time at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I wanta see Niagara Falls. I wanta see live music in several cities and venues. This roadtrip is a bit of a BHAG. Stay tuned.

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Happy New Year. All the best. Keep in touch. Hug the people you love. Be. Just Be.

steve

The Righteous Path

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I’ve seen the Truckers several times in the past few years. I had never listened to them before I moved into The Abbey in fall of 2011. I’m sure glad that I took a friend’s recommendation and gave them a listen. (Thanks Gray!!)

The Truckers can be profound & loud. I like that. Loud is a good four-letter word much of the time. Sometimes it’s not. Just like many other “four-letter” words.

If I had to pick my Top 20 songs by DBT, this one would make the list…even though very few of its lyrics describe my present or past circumstances. Might even make my Top 10, because the refrain describes me perfectly.

It would NOT be on the setlist if the band would let me come up with 22 songs the next time I see them. The three times I heard it live, I liked it each and everytime. I never “Loved It!!!” live.
But they did play it LOUD! That compensated. (And I gotta admit that I listened to the live version in this YouTube video a bunch of time…and sung along each & very time, especially to the refrain.)

Now about those lyrics:
My car is a Prius IV…getting 54mpg.
Don’t have a house. Never expect to own R/E again.
No dog or cat. I’m too irresponsible and impetuous.
Don’t have a couple of hundred channels. But have too many. TV is a vast wasteland.
No wife….but I do have more than 2 secrets that I’d like to keep hid.
Don’t know if there is a god. I do believe in Karma. Wrath? Not so much.

You get my drift by now…most of the lines aren’t me. And I only commented on the first verse; the trend continues, except for a few lines.
If you wanta read the lyrics, here is one of many places that you can find them:
https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858704386/

These lines do apply:
I do have a couple of opinions that I hold dear. More than a couple actually…
I do have the need to blow it out on a Saturday night. Other nights too…
I’m all about hanging out and hanging on….loosely.
Trying my best to keep on keeping on. (Be. Just Be….doncha know?!)

And then there is that Refrain. That is what IT is all about. What I’m all about. Seriously.
“Just trying to hold steady on the Righteous Path.”
Amen & Amen.

Those were the days…I was willin’

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On the first Friday of April in 1974, I had been living in my folks back room in Farmington, MO for a few months, but I was heading back to college in Cape Girardeau the next week.
About to receive an undergrad education degree, I had just finished my 8 weeks of student teaching at Farmington High School…teaching math under he who shall remain nameless. My only sister was in the senior class.
Farmington’s population was just over 7K.
Today a sign says 18,355.
(Note: I did NOT say “the sign” as there are at least three [3] different population counts as one enters the city limits.)
I’d had a few dates with the woman who I would be married to for a shade under 40 years.
Later that summer of 74 she and I were accurately described as hot and heavy. Or horny…loaded…wasted…high…and did I mention horny?
-=-=-=
There was an “epidemic” that spring 44 years ago. Here’s how Wikipedia describes it:
“A ‘streaking epidemic’ hit Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, Texas, with streakers being seen in residence halls, at football games and at various other on-campus locations and events, including Spring graduation…”
A local D.C. area reporter at the University of Maryland “whose voice was broadcast live over the station via a pay phone connection exclaimed… ‘they are streaking past me right now. It’s an incredible sight!’ The next day it was out on the Associated Press wire as “streaking” and had nationwide coverage.”
-=-=-=-=
That April the fifth, we came back into Farmington at about 11 pm after a couple of hours of grabbing a pizza at the Grecian Steak House 7 miles, and loading up the juke box with lots of quarters in order to keep “dark side of the moon” on repeat.
“We” was my future brother-in-law Ronnie and a friend of Ronnie’s, who was providing the wheels for the evening. I can never remember his name…but he was teetotaler and a dandy designated driver. I do remember that.

That night, as we returned from Flat River, it was a fine night weather-wise. High was 77. We took a quick cruise on Main Street, but it was uncharacteristically dead.
But Farmington was abuzz!! Everyone had their car’s windows or the top down.

A couple of guys had streaked from the city park across a section of “the strip” and near a packed Hunts Dairy Bar at about 8 . It was the first known streaking incident south of STL that spring. People were guessing and speculating, but nobody knew who had stripped and sprinted.
Note: we were behind the times in rural Missouri….heck, we still are. No streakers in our little world until that first friday of April ’74….while over 1500 had streaked at the University of Georgia a month earlier, and a fourth of the student body of a small college in South Carolina had bared all.
-=-=-=
We had been back on the streets of Farmington for about 30 minutes and traffic was crawling. Lots of chatter inside and between cars. People were guessing and speculating, but nobody knew who had stripped and sprinted.

And then it happened. Two naked blondes came from out of nowhere and crossed Columbia Street a couple of blocks just west of the county courthouse. They got tied up with traffic and people identified them easily enough.

I knew those bodies.
One was my former girlfriend, who had “dear johned” me while I was at Ft. Bragg. The other was her younger sister…who I had played huggy-bear-kissy-face with a few times recently.

The younger sister was surprised a couple of hours later when I told her that I knew who the two guys were from earlier in the evening.
People had all kinds of theories.
Nobody had it right.
Nobody was guessing that it was the guy who had just wrapped up 8 weeks student teaching math.
Yep, I “buried the lead.” Ronnie and I were nekkid and hauling ass.

Linda Ronstadt didn’t release “Willin” until later in 1974, but I had played the first Little Feat album often back in the barracks.
I’m not sure what got into me that night that prompted me to strip down to my sock and shoes and sprint the 175 yards that night. (I stepped it off last Friday….)
But I’m pretty sure that there had been “weed, whites and wine”….and a “what the fuck…let’s do it!”