I think I'm in a bad mood today. It took forever to drag myself out of bed. I'm irritated with my sons. Irritated with everybody. I've got pieces of Ernie's beard and hair all over the fleece shirt I'm wearing. I keep thinking it's Friday and I don't even want it to be Friday because that means it will be Monday and time for another round of chemo. Our house is a disaster and yet I can't seem to make myself do much about it. The fact that I cleaned the bathroom sink was a huge victory yesterday.
I'm angry.
But, there's this.
Ernie wearing his new fuck cancer hat courtesy Melissa Muckenhirn. Friendship does help.
I think he's got a bit of a Ray Wylie Hubbard vibe going on.
Today might be the last day of the beard though.
Owen's dying to shave Ernie's head...to get the last of it, but I don't think Ernie's ready yet.
Ok. Enough.
Onward.
Fucking onward because there's no other god damned choice.
Ok. Here he is sans ponytail wearing a Reynold's Towing hat he found in the parking lot of Schnucks and brought home to Owen one time. Yes, we washed it. I guess we'll have to get some other hats too. I don't think the beard is long for this world either. He still looks beautiful.
Here are the boys checking on their father. Leo's JUST about to pull his hand out ofo his pocket to give me the finger. It's a technique he finds even more efficient than the hand in front of his face that he used in the past. I love those boys.
Owen's home from school not feeling well and I don't feel too great myself although it might be that I forgot to say 'no onions' when I got my dinner last night.
Why does it keep snowing at NIGHT when I can't enjoy it?
A little tired and bleary.
A rare picture of my Leo.
It's always comforting to know Rascal is watching over us all.
1. I'm trying to pull myself out of the miasma of grief about David Olney's death. I know David would not want me miserable so I'm trying to channel it to savoring the memories people are sharing. I've combed through all my pictures and read my blog posts over and over.
2. Thanks to my friend Peggy for letting me know that the Grammys In Memorium segment included David.
3. After the first house concert in 2011. Look at what a baby Owen is. He is horrified by the picture and says he looks like a 50 year old woman, and God help me if I don't agree a bit.
4. During our 10 anniversary of our house concerts a couple of years ago, Sue gathered messages from many of the artists who had played here. She read them and I, of course, cried through the whole thing.
Then Sue asked if people could guess who the last one was from, and half the room yelled, "DAVID OLNEY!" I am inordinately proud that my love for him is so well known.
from David Olney:
Cynthia and Erie are what the Americana scene is all about. Music fans who take control. The experience is one of audience and performer working together. When I'm playing at their house and look out on the audience, it hits me like a Rembrandt painting. Warm and loving. They are the best.
5. And then there's this.
6. This is one of my favorites. From my blog in 2011:
Now please listen to this recent clip of David Olney and Sergio Webb. Owen has become somewhat obsessed with the Legend of Zelda video games. There's this one thing in there called the claw shot where you aim at something and you get hooked to it and ZOOM you're smack up against it all of a sudden. That's exactly how I felt watching this video. It starts out quietly and then suddenly.... CLAW SHOT!
7. Another great one in that same vein of rising tension....written with John Hadley and my beloved Kieran Kane. Here at Kenny Pipes' house in 2014.
8. This.
9. Another bit from a 2011 blog post. Owen would have been barely nine. Breaks my heart to read it now.
The other day when Owen and I went out to breakfast, in the middle of a bite of pancakes, he said, "I wonder how David is?" I puzzled for a moment and said, "you mean our neighbor Dave?" And he replied, "NO, David OLNEY." Actually I think he said David ONLY but I figured it out. When I looked a bit confused he went on to say, "remember? about his heart attack? I wonder how he is. I think he's got a strong heart though Mom and that he'll be o.k. Oh, and remember when he thanked us for the party on the computer? I think he likes us, Mom." I told him that indeed David Olney was a very kind man and that I thought his heart would be fine. Then he changed the subject and told me secrets I can't reveal about who has a crush on whom at school. Conversations with Owen....very, very interesting.
10. I have a soft spot for sweet potatoes anyway, so this, of course, makes me happy. When I posted it I wrote:
You REALLY must watch this David Olney video of Sweet Potato...and as Kristi Rose said today, "David Olney is so good, I can barely look at him."
11. From another old blog post:
I trotted over to Ustream to see the David Olney video and found they'd had technical difficulties and what was there was a glorious 22-second video of Mary Sack muttering at either Ustream or some piece of equipment, finally quietly growling "piece of shit" before it suddenly ended. And Lord let me tell you, I was instantly cheered....it was indeed a thing of beauty. Unfortunately, they quickly deleted that so I couldn't watch it over and over but instead, I got to watch the video of David Olney singing a new song called A Thing of Beauty.
After the song, he talks a bit about what was behind writing it. He talks about Dave Hickey's The Invisible Dragon: Four Essays on Beauty, his thoughts on finding unexpected moments of pleasure in a day and rails against the fact that poetry seems to have become the purview of eggheads. It turned my day around. Thanks, David.
12. After our first house concert with David.
Watched my beloved David Olney last night on his Tuesday evening Ustream show was touched to hear him say nice things about our house concert. He also mentioned----as he did during the concert---that in the midst of the show our house started to look like a Bruegel painting. And you know.....I think I know exactly what he means.... We've got all that dark woodwork and the walls are gold.....
13. A baby Owen watching Sergio
14. After the second time David played at St. Matt's
Sunday morning we went to the 10:45 Palm Sunday service. I said it last year and I say it again....utterly moving and powerful experience. The stark power of the words of the readings followed directly by David's songs gives extraordinary light to both. I can't say I'm a believer. I'm a questioner who deeply respects the believers. It was a very special morning.
Afterward we headed home for a bit, then gathered Owen up and went back for the 3:00 concert. Best version I think I've ever heard of Little Mustang segueing into Deeper Well complete with Death Shall Have No Dominion by Dylan Thomas. Good Lord. I could not love David Olney more.
15.
Oh, and high marks for the jacket David. Very nice. Speaking of which....best comment on facebook from Mary King: "Jonathan just commented on how much he liked David Olney's burgundy jacket today, since it was "very Third Doctor." Then it hit me: David Olney is a Time Lord. It's the only logical conclusion."
16. I've been thinking of the two women in David's life so much this past week. His wife Gine of course, and also his devoted, tireless, creative, and loving manager, Mary Sack. I keep trying to think of some way to describe Mary's work with David and I can't quite do it. I smiled when I listened to the WXNA tribute that talked about his work with the Nashville Shakespeare Festival and his poetry; somebody said that when he came for the DJ training Mary came with him. I just loved that. She was a protector, a promoter, and an instigator. I kind of want to say she was his service animal but I really shouldn't compare her to a dog. David would have been just as brilliant without Mary but we would not have experienced nearly as much of that brilliance. And for that, I send my love and thanks to you, Mary, as everyone who loved David should as well. You did good, Mary. You did really good.
17.
18.
19. A blurry photo from the first time we saw him live, in Indianapolis. The blurriness is appropriate because that's how we felt after experiencing his live performance for the first time.
I kind of liked the heavy grey skies of yesterday but perhaps the blue sky will be good for our spirits. I'm happy to report that Ernie is feeling much better----through the worse of the side effects from this round of chemo. He's sleeping less, not as cold, and back to eating. He's still tired of course but better. So it looks like it is indeed days 5-9 that are the worst. Hopefully, he'll continue to improve until we do it again on February 3.
I must admit I am behind on my thank you's. So many folks have kindly sent gift certificates, notes, groceries, meals, etc. I was trying to keep up but I have fallen behind. I will try to catch up but please know how much we appreciate your kindness. As I said to my cousin the other day, it makes us feel connected and loved.
Some random pictures....
Getting back to eating better....makes me feel better physically and mentally.
This did not end well. To be fair, she WAS sleeping on his blanket.
A rare shot of Owen with his hair down, watching a David Olney video with me.
Damn, that bungalow sign is crooked. 2/3 of my beautiful boys.
1. I couldn't really listen to any David Olney songs for a few days. Now I've started to again. Everything from the X-Rays to the songs he did at the last house show here with Dan Seymour. I can't always get all the way through them, but it's a start.
2. Cyndi Holcombe posted about her and Malcolm's favorite David Olney phrase, "It's better than a sharp stick in the eye," and it made me laugh as I remember him saying that, with one eyebrow kind of raised.
3. I remember one time when he showed up in the afternoon before a house concert. Owen must have been 9 or 10 and he was sitting in the living room with a bag of potato chips. David walked in and grabbed a handful of potato chips. Owen kind of blinked up at him and then David walked into the kitchen, threw open the refrigerator door and said, "you got anything to eat?" That made me very happy. I know we didn't know him intimately as so many did, but there was a bond there, for whatever reason.
4. One time after a show he and Sergio stayed over another day. He wandered over the next afternoon. We were sitting in the front yard...it was summer. He asked if he could take us to dinner. He said he wanted to go somewhere that had macaroni and cheese. He explained that he didn't necessarily WANT macaroni and cheese but he wanted someplace that might serve it. He said sometimes people brought him to this or that exotic or trendy restaurant... I understood. We went to Big Grove and it was perfect. The four of us sat and talked. He said, "What are you going to do next? You've got this great series going, what's next?" I wish I'd had an answer. I still do.
When it came time to pay for dinner I protested. I can't remember exactly what he said but it was something to the effect of "ok, thanks for the protest, now let it go." It was said with that wonderful grin crossed with a smirk.
5. I've been having problems getting Owen to actually attend his classes. As he cheerfully explains to me, "there's only ONE class I need to pass to graduate, ma." Sigh. This morning I slept late and he was running late too. He popped his head in the room and I just wearily said, "Oh, glad to see you're skipping your class. Now come snuggle with me." He did and we laid there talking about the week, about how it had been a hard week. He told me he thought David Olney was so interesting that he couldn't believe he wouldn't always be there in the background of his life doing things. I made him watch the video of the last song David did at our house with me. I explained about Kubla Khan...and we listened to Deeper Well, Kubla Khan, a dash of War, what is it good for, listened and watched. He gave me a kiss. I said that maybe this wouldn't have hit me so hard if we weren't dealing with Ernie's cancer. He stood up, at the foot of the bed, the same place Ernie was when he gave me the news about David, and said, "You know, I think if we weren't dealing with this stuff of Dad's, it might have hit you even harder." He might be right. I love that boy.
6. One of the times David played at St. Matthew's...maybe the second time...his wife Gine came with him. I was delighted to meet her....I always love meeting the spouse of someone I love, and David was always so clearly loving when he spoke about her. She was lovely and they somehow made perfect sense together. Ann and Bob had all of us over for dinner. I remember the next day David talking to me about what a nice time he'd had. He said so often he was either 'on' or 'off' but that night he'd just been himself. What a lovely compliment. Ann knows how to do that with people. I hate this picture of me but will post it anyway. Thanks, Bob.
And a few random pictures
Last August in our front yard...thx Teri
at St. Matthews on Palm Sunday
Don't know what was going on, but I love that laugh
I love, love, love this picture. I think he was doing Look
Last August, chatting with folks with Lucienne selling merch. Perfect.
I know that a small part of my devastation at David Olney's death is tied in with my fear of the future and Ernie's cancer. I've been worried aboout his PSA numbers increasing for much of last year and on the day after Christmas when I saw his new test results, my stress shot through the roof. We thought we were wrapping our heads around it and then came the emergency room and the hospital, the radiation, the chemo.
Then David's death. I was working so hard to stay upright, for the boys, for Ernie, for myself. The loss of David was the proverbial straw and I broke.
In the midst of the grief, these days of puffy, stinging eyes and sadness though, we have received great kindness and love. I feel encircled by the love of everyone else grieving David, and that is a comfort. And I am reminded yet again, that grief is a gift because it represents how deeply you loved. And if I can do nothing else well in my life, I know how to love hard.
On top of that have been the friends that have been lifting the straws back off that camel, letting me be closer to upright.
Here is Ernie wrapped in his new heated blanket that Kathleen dropped off surreptitiously (along with wine and popcorn). He loves it so much he chortled when he first wrapped himself up in it. And he is eating potato salad that Mary made for him with much love. He is eating little these days so I was particularly delighted to see this.
Friends have written, brought groceries and meals. And with each one, a straw is lifted.
Generally speaking, February is my least favorite month on emotional terms. God help me if it's any worse than January. I'm ASSUMING it won't be but then again, you know what they say about assuming.
My eyes are a bit less swollen this morning. That's ANOTHER thing about aging....used to be I could cry and after a reasonable amount of time feel and look human again. No more. A day of tears on and off and I become a puffy, head stuffed mutant for days. Is it just that I'm drying up and those tears are valuable? Damned if I know.
Ernie is in the nadir of his first chemo treatment...meaning this should be the worse of his symptoms....before the next one anyway. He's not terribly nauseous but is exhausted. He dozes on and off throughout the day and doesn't want to eat. He's having problems staying warm too. He's wrapped up in fleece and blankets all day. I know I'm being too solicitous, asking him how he is and what he needs far too often. I'm trying to restrain myself.
His next treatment is on February 3 and on February 6 he will FINALLY get his PET scan. You know the one, that if Health Alliance had authorized when it was first requested in October could have prevented some of his symptoms. The tumor would still have been there but we would have been able to go after it sooner before it started causing symptoms. You know, my father worked in the insurance industry for a time and he just hated it. Later, when he had Alzheimer's and we were trying to get him to go to an adult daycare program he decided it was all a front for the insurance industry. That kinda made me smile. Lord, I miss him.
Anyway, he'll finally get his fucking PET scan. Turned down in October, requested again on December 30 with a clear rise in his PSA...and yeah, not until February. So much for a baseline. Oh, FUCK THE WORLD.
O.k.
Here is the last song David Olney did at our most recent house concert with him. Thanks to Anne for reviving this video for me.
I'm gratified to see the attention his death has received.....the BBC, the Washington Post, NPR, CNN, etc., etc. although of course it feels so hollow in comparison to the man himself.
Only David Olney could have pulled off a death both dramatic and graceful. My favorite headline from a Dutch paper.... ‘Singer David Olney dies in armor’ - the Frisian newspaper ‘Leeuwarder Courant.' (Thanks to Jan Zijlstra).
1. My eyes are puffy and itchy from crying so much yesterday and my brain feels the same. I need to get some work done today so I'm guzzling lemon water and trying to get myself back in the game. Not quite there yet.
2. I keep thinking of Mary Sack. My heart aches for her. It aches for all of us that loved Olney.
3. I've read quotes by him that talk about there only being one chance to play for somebody the first time. I've always thought the video we have of him doing the first song the first time he played is a perfect example of that. It was a big crowd but most of the people had no idea who he was. They knew we loved him but that was about it. I swear you can see him welcoming the challenge...there's just a glint in his eye. As he goes into the spoken word introduction to Sweet Poison, "Jailer. If I've got to drink this SHIT, I want my poison SWEET," you can hear the shocked laughter. Folks had NO idea what was coming down the pike, but damn they LOVED it.
4. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand the whole time...finishing off that first set with a version of lampshades that had people roaring. And watch for that look and laugh he and Sergio exchange at the end of that one (sorry, Mary, I know you hate Lampshades).
5. I didn't know this song when I first heard it at our house a few years later. It's utterly mesmerizing. And it ends with these words:
We all believe the Summer lasts forever
We do, we do. Even though we know better. I knew he'd be gone at some point. But not now, not so soon.
6. I remember vividly the first time we listened to an Olney CD. Ernie had gotten the promo for High, Wide and Lonesome from the record store he worked at. Remember record stores? Remember promos?. We were sitting on the ugly brown carpet in our rental house at the time...95ish... It started off with Walk Downtown and I almost laughed in delight as it started, thinking, "Who IS this guy?" By the time we'd gotten through all those songs and ended with Vincent's Blues we were hooked. It's a magnificent album if you haven't heard it. A great introduction to Olney. The range of the songs is amazing. At one of our house shows he did Walk Downtown for me...and another time Flood of 93.
7. I loved the little shuffle he'd do when he'd get deep into a song.
8. He's known for some stunning, quiet songs...Jerusalem Tomorrow, Women Across the River, etc., etc., but damn he could rock the hell out of that guitar.
9. We'd already been in talks about having him back. We'd penciled in a date for him this year with Brock Zeman.
Not to be and that breaks my heart yet again.
10. I always loved it when other artists played our house and knowing of our love for David would work in an anecdote or impression of him. He was deeply loved by not just us, but so many in our SLHC family.
11. Picture from 2014
12. Reading old blog posts about David. Came across this: "I wandered over to the computer and ended up playing a David Olney video and damn....I felt so much better. It's like drinking water when you're thirsty."
13. Silver lining: when your Facebook feed is full of people mourning David Olney, you know you have good friends.
14. The card we got from him after his last show with us. It still has a place of honor on the refrigerator door.
We'll love you to the end of time, too David.
15. David looking out our living room windows before a show.
It's 10:37 in the morning and I'm drinking a glass of red wine.
My beloved David Olney is gone.
I'm trying SO fucking hard to stay upright these days, but this is hard. Very fucking hard.
Ernie broke the news to me, standing at the foot of the bed early this morning, his voice breaking. I just kept saying no. "No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no. NO."
He was playing a show in the round at 30A with Amy Rigby and Scott Miller. This is what Amy posted:
David Olney, a beautiful man, a legend, a songwriting poet died last night. I was sitting next to him in the round, had been so honored and looking forward to getting to trade songs with him and Scott Miller. Olney was in the middle of his third song when he stopped, apologized and shut his eyes. He was very still, sitting upright with his guitar on, wearing the coolest hat and a beautiful rust suede jacket we laughed about because it was raining like hell outside the boathouse where we were playing- I just want the picture to be as graceful and dignified as it was, because it at first looked like he was just taking a moment. Scott Miller had the presence of mind to say we needed to revive him. Doctors in the audience and 30A folks were all working so hard to get him to come to. It's hard to post about this because I can't really believe he's gone. I am so sorry for his wife and family and friends and all the people who loved him and his music. Even those who never heard of him. We all lost someone important last night.
I feel shocked and numb and heartbroken all at the same time. He was very special to me. He was an incredible artist, but he was also our friend.
I loved him dearly.
My heart breaks for his wife, children, and all those that worked with him and loved him.
I'm still trying to stay upright, but I'm not so sure.
Recent Comments