Vulcanny

B.H. Vulcan has been partying for two solid weeks. His handmade green and orange hat is pushed slightly to the side so you know that he's for real. His large head wags with every small child's hand, an irresistable golden worry wobble for all of the elderly ladies that sit before me, and from the old men, Bobble Head "Party God" Vulcan gets the occasional tilted head, a push, and a chuckle. B. H. Vulcan parties all day on the ledge of my desk. I sit behind him at my workstation, chair a little too low, desktop a little too cluttered, enormous monitor flickering in front of my face. I try to keep in the party spirit, just for the little guy. I play a little of Benny Goodman's "Bluebirds in the Moonlight" and swing around in my swivel chair, legs tucked in and skirt aflarin'.

"There are bluebirds in the moonlight. Silly idea, Bluebirds in the moonlight, but that's how I feel when I'm with you...
There are night owls in the daylight. Silly idea. Night owls in the daylight. But maybe my heart is saying who...who...who..whoooo..Who is the one for me, that's what you've done to me...."

I lean my head over to the far side of the partition, glancing up to the security mirror, making sure the coast is clear. And then I spin around again and again, head back and eyes bright. I love these late afternoons in the center. I'm sure I'll miss them come December, when I'll be flying every moment room to room in the new Emergency Room. My legs and heart and head will be tired by the end of the day. But now...right now...I turn my head to my dear friend Vulcan, and to the pictures of Ralph "Soul" Jackson, Emilybird, and Edwyn Collins (thank you, gorjus) gathered on the wall around my phone, Count Basie laces some pretty melodies in his "How Long Blues" and I turn to see that it's time for me to hit the road.

Have a good weekend, my lovelies. I'm sure I'll see you out and about.

how it feels...

You were right, J. It was crazy to think that I shouldn't go.

I was sitting with Aisha at the Innisfree Trivia night on Monday, getting every answer wrong (almost), when my friend Carl walked over with Michael McCall. They asked me why I wasn't at the Bottletree. Michael had been my Sunny Day partner back in 2000. We both happened to attend the show in Atlanta with No Knife at the Masquerade (The Rising Tide tour). We shared that love for SDRE (amongst other great music loves) during our tenure together at Slip Disc. We have often worn the same black and silver tour shirt, at the same time(but not on purpose). He looked at me with wondering eyes as I sat at the bar. Reed Lochamy repeated some spelling question over the loudspeaker. Carl touched my shoulder and said, "I've got an extra ticket, come with us." I told them to go on and that I would meet them there.

I arrived a bit later than I had expected, the crowd was spilling out the front door and onto the stoop. Carl and Michael were waiting, extra Budweiser in hand, when we pushed our way through the door, the boys pushed on through the crowd....we crept up and past and beside and onward, Jeremy Enigk's unworldly voice ringing out in turns and turns, until we reached the food passway to the left of the stage. Jeremy's body was turned down over his keyboard, his face up into the light.

He stood, picked up his guitar..."How can I explain, Dear....you've been gone for sometime...."

I turned to Michael and smiled, my eyes glistening. I didn't think it would affect me like this, my heart slipping out of my chest and to the floor...this dark and beautiful moment....

Upwards and Onwards

I closed my eyes, holding the guitar, strumming clumsily, my mouth wide open and song bursting forth into the smokey/beer scented microphone. I felt like I was about to swallow everything whole. In this dark room, I felt like I was turning into something I didn't understand, something I never wanted to be, but had always longed for. Keelan sat to my left, crouched over his bass guitar, feet pumping in no particular time the pedals to the kick drum and to the high hat. My arms wrapped around this loud and lovely instrument that I didn't know in the least what to do with...I closed my eyes and sang.

I won't pretend anything for you. I won't say that it was transcendent and life changing. It was a beer addled stroll through a park that I seldom visit. It was like a phone call to that friend that I love dearly but rarely speak with. After we were done, the guitar was placed back into it's case, I popped open another Miller Lite and went back to work, no illusions dancing upon my brow. I threw my latest addiction back into the CD player, Orange Juice - You Can't Hide Your Love Forever, my favorite song, "Wan Light", making me dance my chair. Making me decide to feature an interview with Elliott McPherson on our Redeye News...an interview completely in spanish...because it made me smile.

Brown Black Haven of Sleeplessness

Gathering up my birthday dress, after changing into my Pj's late last night, I pressed my face into the wool and inhaled the beautiful autumn wood burn scent of the night's festivities that still lived within it's folds.

The lights had been amazing. Bright and golden and pink, low and lovely, framing the the faces of the loved ones who were being remembered. Small fires burned on altars throughout the memorial graveyard. A few larger blazes sat upon the edge of the lot. Friends crowded around, their heads close in conversation, their bodies stiff and huddled.

I wandered through the midst the crowd, twirling through the cold. I was serenaded by the constant hum of my phone as friends called to wish me well or to ask my location so they could find me. The Day of the Dead festival this year took up the better part of a block. The line to get into Bare Hands wound down the alley as people slowly made their way through the hall, smiling and pointing, tilting their heads from side to thoughtful side. Frida Kahlo glided past me on more than one occasion, in more than one form. Dark masks and vibrant costumes dotted the dancing masses. I danced with them, beside my friend Tristan, as St. Louis stood still, leaning up against a heater to warm his shivering bones.

I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed myself or how much it meant to me that so many of my friends came out to help me celebrate my birthday. This has been an amazing year. Truly amazing. So many of my little dreams have come true. Thank you for being a part of it all. I am so grateful.