An Ode to Guy Clark

guyclark

Oh Guy Clark.

You wordsmith.

You craftsman.

You Texan.

A few years ago I went to a show at the Country Music Hall of Fame. They have an “artist in residence” series in the Ford Theater there. The place seats like 200 people and these amazing people play there once a week for a month….it’s one of the ways that Nashville IS Music City. One of the first people to be the “artist in residence” was Guy Clark.

I hate to admit it, but for most of my life I’ve taken Guy Clark for granted. His music has been a constant for me, and I didn’t even know it. So many hours on road trips listening to Jerry Jeff Walker cassettes with my dad and I didn’t even know how those words were permeating my being, let alone who wrote so many of them. I knew I liked any song that talked about vanilla wafers, but didn’t know of my fondness for the man who wrote them.

Upon getting immersed into the world of “Alt-country” or “Americana” or whatever you want to call it, Guy Clark is like one of the apostles.  While standing in the Georgia Theater in Athens GA selling CDs for a band I loved, “Desperadoes Waiting for a Train” came on and I just started singing it. I don’t recall hearing the song before, but I knew it and it knew me. The headliner of the show that night was from Texas and he happened to walk by while I was singing. He nodded at me and said “Ain’t nothing better then Guy Clark!” I nodded in agreement and made a mental note to find some more Guy Clark music ASAP.

A couple years after that fateful night I was in the Ford Theater. I have only fleeting memories of that evening because it was all simply TOO GOOD to take in. I know that Rodney Crowell performed (always a good thing) and that Guy called Vince Gill out of the crowd to join him onstage (also a good thing!). But the clearest memory I have is the feeling in my stomach when I heard him sing the opening lines to “Dublin Blues.”

I wish I was in Austin
In the Chili Parlour Bar
Drinkin’ Mad Dog Margaritas
And not carin’ where you are

My stomach dropped, in that horrible yet wonderful way it does when you are on a roller coaster.  Those 21 words encapsulated my general feelings that day more then any I could have come up with myself.  I looked at this man who is 15 days older then my father and fell madly in love. I’d heard the song countless times, but that night, sitting in that room, it was all different.

I have since seen Guy play a few different times and a few different places. I love to hear his stories about his home here in Nashville during the ’70s, which sounds like my dream scenario of a “Home for Wayward Musicians.” I love hearing the way he talks about his wife Susanna.  I long to own one of his handmade guitars because I am sure that it is built in such a way that even I could make beautiful music with it.

The life that Guy Clark writes about isn’t always easy and isn’t always fun, but it’s always good and it’s always the way it should be, whether we like it or not. His song “The Cape” in my opinion, distills his general theories on life in the following words:

He’s one of those who knows that life
Is just a leap of faith
Spread your arms and hold you breath
Always trust your cape

1guyclark

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Lone Star state of mind

Texas, you big beautiful state you!

Texas has been a part of my life since before I was born. It’s part of family lore that my paternal grandparents missed my birth because my grandpa was afraid they would hit freezing rain in Missouri on their way to their winter home in South Padre Island Texas. I would bet that they day she died, my grandmother was still pissed about that. I would also guarantee that if he had it to do over again, my grandfather would not have risked freezing rain in Missouri.

Shortly after I was born my grandparents moved to Padre permanently. Sure, I never knew what it was like to have grandparents live in the same town as me, but they lived on a freakin’ island!! How cool is that.  Back in the day there wasn’t much to do at Padre, but I never noticed.  They lived less then a block from the beach and when I was there…which was often…the vast majority of my time was spent on the beach, in the gulf or in the swimming pools at the small condo buildings that lined the beach. Seriously, it was an idyllic experience.

Around the age of 6 I started spending long summers in Padre. Sometimes I flew, by myself–such a big girl, but more often then not I was driven down. My dad and I would hop in whatever vehicle he had at the time and set out for a two day trip that only went through two states. Usually we would stop in Dallas and see a family friend who lived there. I’d swim in the pool or we’d go to another friend’s house for brisket or some other such Texas fare. Then early the next day we would take the long drive to the Island.

I love all the small towns in Texas. They are all so different but are all so similar and are all so….Texas. There was a Dairy Queen we would stop at in some tiny town.  There I would just sit and people watch, even at six, and wonder what it was like to live in such a small town. Sure, Edmond Oklahoma is hardly a booming metropolis, but our streets were streets, not farm roads.  We would drive through King Ranch….which takes forever….and then soon we were in the Rio Grande Valley. So many little random business and so much agriculture. I’ve been a lot of places in this country and none are anything like the RGV. Once I started seeing seashell shops, I knew we were close. We would take that drive along the super tall causeway and I was once again home, or at least in my home away from home. My grandparents and parents would talk shit about Texans and how they acted like Texas was the be all end all, but secretly I think they sort of agreed.  My grandma had a decorative plate that had two angels on it and one of them had a speech bubble over it’s head that said, “And if we are very good, we will go to Texas!”  I have all of her plates…but that one is missing. I so wish I had that plate.

Once I moved to California in 1985, trips to Texas became fewer and further between. Plus I was a teenager and let’s face it, teenagers suck and don’t appreciate anything at the time.  When my grandparents moved to Florida around 1994, my trips to Texas ended. I didn’t even knew I missed them until…

September 2005.  While the gulf coast was still reeling from Hurricane Katrina and anticipating Hurricane Rita, I was on my way to the Austin City Limits festival. When I stepped off the plane in Austin, my love for Texas came flooding back. The smell of breakfast tacos, the live music, sharing a plane with Ray Benson and wishing him luck on getting to the festival on time for his slot. It all was perfect. I dropped my stuff off at the hotel, grabbed a cab to Zilker park and I was off. The natural beauty in Texas isn’t easy for some to appreciate. I, however, am truly enchanted by it.  The scrubby mesquite just standing there against the heat and wind. The long stretches of land untouched by “civilization.” All of it resonates inside of me like few other places I’ve ever been. Austin has the lovely Town Lake, the refreshing Barton Springs and so many trails and byways that it’s easy to forget you are in a city. I spent the next three days sweating and breathing dirt and loving my life more then I knew I could. I didn’t eat, I drank water. I took long showers in the evening to remove the mass quantities of soil that seemed embedded in my flesh. I loved it all. It probably didn’t hurt that the first night we were there my favorite band, Reckless Kelly, was playing at Threadgill’s across the street from my hotel.  I’m not usually one to go solo to a show, but I couldn’t miss it and my traveling companion thought slee sounded like a better option. Then I remembered, you’re never alone at a Reckless Kelly show because RK fans are all friends you just haven’t met yet. Sure, the members of the band aren’t FROM Texas, but the heart of the band is from Texas and that all worked out well in my mind.  The next night I had, what I consider, the ultimate Texas evening. Drove down to New Braunfels in the darkest of nights, ate dinner overlooking the Guadalupe river and saw Reckless Kelly at Gruene Hall. Sweet Jesus, I’ve never been a churchgoer, but if church made me feel like that night did, I would be up bright and early every Sunday morning. Of course, Reckless Kelly doesn’t see many early Sunday mornings, so I think I can keep sleeping in.

My next trio to Texas was for SXSW. Lifechanging trip. Ate the best BBQ of my life at Kreuz’s. Had more fun then should be allowed by law. It was confirmed on this trip that Texas had played and continued to play a huge role in my life.

I’ve only been back once since SXSW in 2006 and that was for a Reckless Kelly live cd recording, obsessed? me? surely you jest!  I was there for 16 hours, but what I 16 hours it was. I made friends that night that I still keep in touch with. We were all part of something super special that night…and I don’t think it could have happened anywhere but Texas.

Lately I’ve been NEEDING to go back. Sure, my best friend since first grade had a baby 8 months ago that I haven’t seen in Chicago. Sure, I never visit my family in Florida. But dammit all to hell I need to go to Texas.  I need to breathe that thick air. I need to shop for random things, and cowboy boots!, in Austin.  I need to drink crappy beer and good liquor with some of the most fun people on the planet.  I need to sit in Zilker park and just think. I need to sit on Town Lake  and drink coffee at Mozarts. I need to roam the stacks in Waterloo. I need some Lone Star time.

I guess I’m kind of a lone star myself. But I hope that, much like Texas, with it’s quiet strength, that there is a nobility with me being a lone star. Texas isn’t about the jerks who act like when you cross out of the state line you lose any reason for living.  Texas is about knowing that when you cross into Texas, you are crossing into a special, stark, beautiful, lush and dry land that has endless opportunities and room for endless heartache.

Don’t mess with Texas! 🙂

Married!!!!!

Let’s preface this with some general statements concerning me and my thoughts on marriage. I respect the institution of marriage. I still hold out some hope that one day I will be married. Marriage isn’t easy under the best circumstances, but can be completely worth the effort. In general, I believe that most of my friends’ marriages are enviable.

I have a friend. He is a musician. He is one of the nicest people I have ever met, but has a “naughty” streak that makes him all the more likable. He’s got a great talent, a raspy voice, an amazing sense of humor and a wife. His wife is gorgeous, but not in a fake, Hollywood way. She is gorgeous in a way that I want to be gorgeous. She is fun to be around, easy to talk to and they love each other in the sweet simple way that is a treat to see.

My friend has not only musical talent, but a talent for making me feel special. When we talk it’s like I’m the only person in the room. He asks me questions about my life, my opinions on things, etc…and listens. Listens, and months or years later will bring these things up, so he not only listens, he retains what I’ve said to him. He has a devilish smile and these dimples that tear me up. He winks at me from the stage. He swears he can hear my screams over others in the crowd and he appreciates how much I pay attention to the shows.  He buys me drinks. He puts me on the list from time to time. He makes sure I’m aware of any show within a 6 hour drive of Nashville and calls me when the band is coming through town on the way to somewhere else. Again, he has a wife.

We got to chat this weekend after a show. Apparently some medication I am on makes me about as hormonal as a teenage boy. So, as we chatted, we got closer and closer to each other. Someone called to him that they were going to another bar, and he nodded that he was going to stick around where we were for awhile. Each comment either one of us made seemed to necessitate a hug or other touching. In any other situation, things would have been moving in the exact direction I wanted them to. But he’s married. At some point, the angel on my shoulder took over (the devil was probably getting a cocktail or something) and I decided to ask how the wife was. Had our conversation been taking place in a cartoon, you would have heard brakes squealing and smoke would have emanated from our bodies. We talked about his wife for a bit and he mentioned how much she and I have in common, etc…but the turn had been taken. The devil was back on my shoulder and was PISSED, but I felt as though a good decision had been made.

Later in the evening, after being mis-directed to another bar, etc…we (Snikki, the boy and I) ended up at a funky bar just chatting and having cocktails. I never am at a loss for words with him, but I’m pretty sure I could sit in silence with him just as easily. Being around him makes me feel comfortable and happy and (sometimes) happy in my panties. In the end however, we are friends and he is married. So I will be content knowing how fortunate I am to know this awesome fella and be left with my imagination, memories of the best hugs ever and the little lick in the ear that closed off the evening…

What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂

It’s the little things….

It has been pretty well documented that it is the little things in my life that make me happy (no that isn’t a slap at old boyfriends, but if the shoe fits….) Anywho.  With the holiday season being in our recent memories, one is bound to be introduced to new products and experiences that bring them joy.  Here are a few of mine.

  • Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion: OMG–this stuff is AMAZING!  My eyelids tend to have a voracious appetite for eyeshadow and as a result I rarely wear it.  Now, with this stuff, I am the eyeshadow queen.  It stays on forever and helps the pigments in the eyeshadow show up more also.  I even use it under liquid eyeliner, when that is all I am wearing, and it works there too.  I didn’t wash my face before bed Friday night (don’t tell my mom) and woke up Saturday morning looking like I had just put on my eyeliner.  It’s magic I tell you.  Worth every penny!!!
  • Sifting Litter Box: So, my Litter Maid has been broken for over a year and I simply couldn’t spend another $120 to deal with cat poop (this was the second one I had bought in 3 years) I had been investigating litter boxes online and thought that the sifting littler pan seemed like a good idea.  I had no idea how amazing it would be!  Seriously, this thing ROCKS!  It’s big enough for my two cats. It has a tall rim around it so no-one can kick out the litter.  You don’t have to deal with the “droppings” hardly at all. Just life the sifter tray and dump things into a garbage bag and you’re done!  It also seems to conserve litter pretty well. Sure, not a huge expense, but every little bit helps 🙂
  • Chicken Fingers @ Edgefield Sports Bar and Grill:  For about a month now, some friends and I have been playing darts every Friday night at the Edgefield. It’s a pretty basic bar, but the dart boards are pretty good. The dart area is spacious. The beer is cheap and the service doesn’t suck.  I had partaken of their grilled cheese in the past and was content with it. Nothing to write home about.  This past Friday I was craving chicken fingers all day so I ordered some at darts.  Oh my…..them are some tasty fingers.  These are no Sysco bulk frozen things.  The pieces were more like breast cutlets then fingers. The breading was flavorful and abundant, without over powering the chicken.  I have to say that there were the best chicken fingers I have had in quite some time and I consider myself somewhat of a chicken finger aficionado. The sides of coleslaw (which is rumored to be quite good) well seasoned crinkle cut fries and honey mustard rounded out a fine sports bar, darting meal.  I’m tempted to go there for lunch today to get me some fingers, but I fear I would fall prey to the cheap beer.

There you have it, three things that are making 2008 that much better in my little world.  Look around, you never know what might be making your world better too 🙂

Only Child’s Dilemma?

I must preface this with the following: I am, in general, very happy in my life. I want for little (other then silly, expensive things that would only stress me out to own), I have wonderful friends, a job I love and feel as though I am taken care of (in a universal sense). However, there seems to be something missing.

Growing up an only child (an only child of divorce no less!) I was used to being the center of attention. While I can still be the center of my parents’ attention….it doesn’t really count anymore. At this point in my life I feel like I am a guest star in a few folks’ world, even occasionally a SPECIAL guest star, but I am not a regular. I’m not a permanent fixture in any group of friends. I’m not the first person anyone calls about much of anything. I’m feeling sort of “island” like…and I don’t like it.

This time of year brings out all kinds of odd issues like this for me.  I come from a small family, no matter how far you extend the family tree, there simply aren’t many of us. If you include the people I actually KNOW…even smaller. People I actually LIKE is a VERY small number. Yet, somehow, I feel like I want to be close to these people this time of year.

Of course, this issue instantly brings to mind the lack of a “special someone” in my life.  Why, oh why, does this pop up in nearly every “issue” that arises in my life. I want to say that I am too independent to be in a relationship. I want to say that I am happiest when I am alone. I want to say that I couldn’t care less if I ever find someone who wants to spend endless hours with me learning the random things that make up my history, telling me the random things that make up his history and creating new random stories that will be OUR history together. But that is all a big stinkin’, festering lie. I see myself being attracted to people merely because I think they are more likely to be attracted to me—-usually because I feel like they have lowered their standards.  I flirt with boys that I find truly attractive or interesting and the second they respond, I clam up.

I see so many of my friends in relationships, healthy and otherwise and I compare myself to them. I look for what it is about them that makes them be chosen by someone else and not me. It’s a horrible thing to do, never compare yourself to someone else, but it’s hard not to. 

I’m just kind of spinning here, and I know it. Perhaps the man of my dreams isn’t hanging out at the sort of scary yet fun place we played darts on Friday? Perhaps he’s at the East Nashville dog park, not the Centennial Park one?  Maybe he’s at one of the shows that I can always talk myself out of going to alone? Maybe he’s down the hall from my office?  I don’t know where he is, but I refuse to give up hope that he is indeed out there.

So there.

Who’d have thunk it?!

Yesterday was my birthday. My 34th birthday. That, for some reason, sounds middle-aged. Regardless of my pending senior citizen status, it was an AMAZING birthday.

I am never one to shy away from reminding people of my birthday. So I sent out an email with a variety of events for people to celebrate me.

Monday night was my “trivia birthday” @ Corner Bar.  What used to be a weekly event has become much less frequent….but it was fun just the same.  Three good friends. Good, cheap cocktails. Attentive and lovely servers. Random conversations…….ALL GOOD!

My friend Jenn Franklin had a CD release party/show on Tuesday.  I’m so proud that she has completed her EP. She is stupid talented and gives me chills every-time I hear her sing.  She also announced from the stage that I had a birthday coming up and all of Third and Lindsley wished me happy birthday. God I love Nashville.  I then went to dinner with my pops and had my last corn nuggets of my 33rd year. YUM!

Weds. found me @ Peter’s Thai Sushi (YUM!) having lunch with Ear Injury.  After a near miss with the devil, I mean my old boss on my way in, the rest of the meal was a tasty and delightful experience. Man the food there is SO amazing. Add to that wonderful company and it doesn’t get much better.  I spent Weds. night chilling at the house with the furry friends, watching ANTM and Project Runway (sorry to see ya go Chris–ya coulda been a contender!)

Thursday—my ACTUAL birthday. My phone started ringing at 7:30.  I have numerous voice mails that I saved with folks wishing me a happy birthday. I had cards on my desk at work and my mom even sent me a huge cookie cake with a balloon on it to the office.  My dept. took me to lunch at Yellow Porch (delish)  where Alison Krauss and John Waite had also decided to grab a bite (have I mentioned I love Nashville?) I basically did no work all day and just chatted with folks and hung out. Well, I did have a vendor change the laws of physics and help me solve a problem with a project—but hey….that’s what happens on my birthday.

After work I went to dinner at Eastland Cafe with my dad. We ate tapas style–which is my favorite.  It’s the only way to get shrimp & grits, herbed carrots, green chili mac & cheese, buttered asparagus, coconut rice and a decadent cheese platter at one meal without being sick at the end.  You would hate to be sick at the end also since there was a pomegranate martini, triple chocolate tart with raspberry sorbet and blueberry beignets to be had.  MMMMMMMM

I took my happy mouth (and the rest of me) to meet the Thursday night trivia gang.  I have so much fun with these people I can’t even explain it.  They truly get as much joy out of every situation possible. I usually laugh so much that my stomach hurts. I got a wonderful Sephora giftcard from my super pregnant friend (seriously…the packaging for their gift cards is AMAZING!!!) and we got her soon to be born son making all kinds of moves for us all night. We decided he likes the bar scene already. We didn’t do so well at the actual trivia part, but we had a blast otherwise and I could hardly believe that while a few of the same people were there as had been at my last birthday—the mood was so much different.  My last birthday kinda sucked…mostly because of me….but that is so in the past and I will bask in the afterglow of this birthday instead.

There is still more celebrating to be had.  Pub crawl. East Nashville. Good times! It’s not only my birthday festivity, but that of the lovely Snikki.  It should be a good time. Anything that can celebrate the great way my life is going is a good time to me. Now if I could only have a mega makeout session…………

Scene

int: Semi-crowded bar, night.  The post trivia crowd has started to dissipate, but the air is still charged from the marriage proposal that all had just witnessed. A girl, brown hair, cute top, huge smile and stomach ache from the evening’s laughter is deciding if she is ready to leave or not. She looks across the table at the boy, dark hair and eyes and a sly smile, who consumes her thoughts as of late.

Girl:

I think I’m going to head out

Boy:

(extends hand in a gesture that is asking for “five”) Be good, be safe.

Girl:

(gives him “five” but grabs his hand and uses it to pull herself closer)

I can’t leave without a hug.

Boy:

(Pulls girl tight and squeezes, pulling her face into the crook of his neck where she becomes intoxicated with his smell)

But I might not let go.

Girl:

Would that be so bad?

(She looks up from where she is buried in his neck into his sweet, happy eyes)

Boy:

(shrugs and pulls her back in to him)

Girl:

Uh, well, some of us have to work tomorrow…….

ext: girl finds herself walking down the street to her car wondering WHAT THE FUCK HER PROBLEM IS!!!

Viva La Reckless!

I would never be able to call any musician or band my absolute favorite…but if I had a gun to my head the first band that would come to mind (and would be pretty much as close to the truth as I could come to answering that question) would be Reckless Kelly.

My first time seeing them was at the dreaded Bluebird Cafe in Nashville.  A room where you can’t talk without being rudely “shushed” and where “rocking out” is not on the menu!  But it didn’t matter. I loved them about 2 minutes into the set. It doesn’t happen very often with me, to have an instant connection to a band that I have no real prior knowledge of.  But it happened that night.  I knew off the bat that these guys were the real deal. That they LOVED what they do.  That they have a good time with each other. That the lead singer is T-R-O-U-B-L-E!  All of this was before I even realized that there were brothers in the band. I am a sucker and a half for bands with brothers in them. Not sure why…but oy!  Those Braun genes got some good mojo and I was instantly a fan. That was in 2004.

2005 saw my love for them move into “superfan” world….sort of. They played a show on Feb. 13 here in Nashville at Third and Lindsley.  It was two days before “Wicked Twisted Road” was coming out, but I had already procured an advance copy.  Micky and the Motorcars (yet ANOTHER Braun brother band) opened and it was a much more rocking, much more “Reckless” show. If there was any question I was hooked…that question was answered when I came out of the ladies room, ran into Cody (whom I had briefly met earlier) and he gave me a hug and asked if I liked the show. Hugs from musicians are pretty much like crack to me.  Add to that the fact that he seemed to genuinely be concerned that I enjoyed the show and it was all over. I was Reckless to the core.

The rest of 2005 was amazing. I saw them 9 times in 5 different states. I got to know Cody better and meet the rest of the band.  I learned all their songs, even favorite covers. I made friends with other fans. It was great! Becoming a RK fan is like joining a family….it’s pretty amazing.

2006 wasn’t nearly as Reckless a year.  I only saw them play once, although it was THE show to be at, the live recording at La Zona Rosa.  I was in Austin for a total of 16 hours that trip. I ended up at the infamous “Shed” after the show where I stayed and had one of the best times of my life until about 5:45 AM when I had to go catch my flight home.  That year definitely goes into the “quality vs. quantity” world.

2007, in the life of me, opened with a bang. I got a new job, a new dog and an email from Cody that the band was coming through town on the way to a show and inviting me to hang out.  They did, I did, a GREAT time was had by all.  It wasn’t as wonderful as a show, but time with the Brauns is always good.  This brings us to this past weekend. It took them over 2 years, but those boys got themselves back to Nashville to play a show.  They were playing the Exit/In, a venue they had played countless times.  I got my tickets early, just in case and started counting the days. Once I was able to buy milk that had an expiration date after the date of the show I started getting REALLY excited.

Saturday night arrived and I could hardly contain myself.  As we’re waiting in line it was announced that the show is sold out!  While a part of me was thrilled and oh so proud, I was concerned about the friend I had with me who didn’t have a ticket.  Luckily the guy working the door likes me and he let her in.  Then the real excitement began.  The opener, Stoney LaRue, was good.  He even has the same mouth as the boy who has me twitterpated. But, unfortunately for him, he only represented an obstacle between me and my Reckless boys. His set ended and the torture truly began.

The period of time between the opener and their set was like excruciating foreplay.  You’re all hyped up and excited and feeling good, but dammit all to hell, you just want to get down to business. After maybe 40 minutes of this, on walked the band! For lack of a better word, and to keep with the metaphor of sex, the next two hours were like the best sex ever. The best sex ever with LOTS of orgasms! I didn’t care about the drunk girl next to me who looked like she was going to puke at any time. I didn’t care that I was sweating like a crazy person. I didn’t care about anything except those 5 boys on stage and the music they were making. I get completely mesmerized by them.

After the show I got to briefly hang out with Cody before my hunger and tiredness forced me to go home.  That time with him was like post-coital snuggling.  Lots of smiles and happy talking and praise for performance.  Promises that this needs to happen again, sooner rather then later, and lack of desire to leave each others presence.

When I finally woke up on Sunday, I was still smiling. My hair smelled of the smoke from the show and I wasn’t quite ready to get rid of it. I didn’t want to wash the stamp off my hand that had allowed me to drink. I didn’t want to forget any minute of the show. I wanted to live the night all over again.

I feel sorry for people who never feel this way about a band, or anything. An all encompassing thrill derived from watching someone doing what they love and supporting and appreciating every second of it.  I feel sorry for people who never know how much a band they loves appreciates them, let alone gets to hear it first hand. Mostly I feel sorry for me because I don’t know when my next Reckless Kelly show is going to be.

Not really, there’s no crying in Reckless-land!

VIVA LA RECKLESS!!!!!

A Brief Accounting

Here is a brief list of my faults, issues, and confessions. There is no way in the universe that I would ever be able to list all of them, but here are the ones that seem to be causing me the most trauma lately.

  • I fear commitment
  • I fear being lonely
  • I like the wrong boys for the wrong reasons
  • I have big pores
  • I have a tendency to want people to like me so much that I don’t actually let them get to know the “real” me
  • I feel too much
  • I think too much
  • I eat chips and dip for breakfast sometimes
  • I don’t always brush my teeth twice a day
  • I wear my contacts for days on end when I am not supposed to
  • I love my pets too much
  • I REALLY love my dog too much
  • I’m self-centered
  • I can be self-destructive
  • I take insults well
  • I take compliments horribly
  • I don’t speak up for injustice because I still believe that people are doing the best they can with the information they have at the time
  • I have no tolerance for stupidity
  • When people say “Do what?” instead of “pardon me” “what was that?” or even “huh?” I want to scream
  • I bite my fingernails
  • I don’t like to clean my kitchen
  • I rarely put away my laundry
  • My good intentions outnumber my good deeds exponentially
  • I expect return phone calls
  • I have no problem sleeping with someone on the first date
  • I have dozens of pairs of shoes and handbags
  • There are 5 handbags in my possession that I have never used
  • I let my dog kiss me on the mouth (mouth closed!)
  • I’m easily entertained
  • I’m easily discouraged
  • I start lots of things that I never finish
  • I get ridiculously happy in the presence of musicians
  • I fear clowns, little people and lawn work
  • I put on a brave face when I want to cry
  • I spent so much of my life trying to not talk too loud that I now get accused of talking too softly
  • I sleep in my clothes more often then anyone with an actual home and actual pajamas should
  • I still believe in fairytales
  • If it wouldn’t make me sick I would only eat appetizers and desserts and only drink Tropicana Light Lemonade or Vodka Tonics
  • I like to get drunk….even if I sometimes fall down
  • I have a list of boys that I want to “lick from head to toe”–it’s a VERY short list and easier to get off then get on
  • I have a freakishly short tongue
  • Sometimes I would rather sit at home alone on Saturday night then go out with actual people
  • If I stay at home alone on Saturday night instead of going out with actual people, I will be pissed at myself about it on Sunday
  • I still draw on myself from time to time, but now I call it “tattoo research”
  • I want better cleavage
  • I rarely make my bed
  • I can’t find the right lipstick color
  • I need something to wear to the agency anniversary party
  • I’m more excited about the open bar at the anniversary party than Ricky Skaggs performing
  • I need a date to the anniversary party—ok, I don’t NEED one, I want one, one particular one.
  • I obsess over boys
  • I quote song lyrics a LOT!
  • I have an oral fixation
  • I want to go canoeing again, with pretty much the same exact people and a whole bucket full of new knowledge
  • I need new panties
  • I have bouts of insomnia and bouts of “whatever you call it when all you do is sleep, but not because you are depressed or physically exhausted”
  • I’m not participating in “Hands on Nashville Day” because I don’t want to be too tired to raise hell with my buddies Reckless Kelly that night
  • I still haven’t finished Harry Potter book 4 and it’s making me want to abandon the series all together
  • I’m tired of listing my faults