I've been enjoying my greens/herbs pestos of late so I made one with a gorgeous bunch of blue kale that I got from Farmer Greg. I pulled the greens off the stalks, added garlic oil, some parmesan, lemon juice, salt, and pepper and whirred it all up. The first night I had it mixed with the sweet corn that is almost too sweet and it was delightful.
Triple S's luscious smoked pork chops with corn and kale pesto, cherry tomatoes and a mixture of sliced sugar snap peas, peas and green onion.
Last night I realized we had nothing planned for dinner. It's shocking because we seem to spend an inordinate amount of time discussing what we're going to eat. We've had to institute a rule that we can't say, "What are we having for dinner?" before noon. Unless there are mitigating circumstances of course. Anyway, I finally cut up a bunch of vegetables....orange bell pepper, green onions, purple cabbage and sugar snap peas and tossed in the leftover corn. I made a quasi fried rice with some leftover rice and then mixed my kale pesto in with it all and topped it with a fried egg. It was truly delightful
Had a lovely time hanging out in the front yard yesterday with our beloved Jeff Evans and Debbie Stewart. And look what Debbie delivered to me. ❤️ I can't decide where I'm going to put it. It needs a place of great honor.
My patio kudzu.
Oh, and Ernie had an appointment with his oncologist today and all his numbers were great. I adore his oncologist. We talked about weed and cooking shows and laughed a lot.
The sweet autumn clematis has taken over the patio and the various piles of things on it and it looks like some kind of Midwestern kudzu. I used to be fascinated by kudzu when we would visit Judi in South Carolina. I always thought there was a coffee table book waiting to happen. Do people still publish coffee table books? I guess now we just put them online. I don't know.
My camera feed is nothing but food and cats. And not even particularly good pictures.
It turns out that the big old ash tree blocked a street light from shining in my eyes whenever I look out the window from bed at night. It also blocked the ugly electrical wires, which of course is why Ameren cut it down so mixed blessing there. I don't know WHAT I'm going to do with that hole in the yard. Our view is kinda wretched now.
On a different note, I forced myself to watch the RNC. I was high when I watched Trump but I'm not sure that made any difference. I've decided I just can't do weed though. I'm too much of a lightweight. I'm trying to cut back on wine for the sake of my stomach/gut heaalth so I thought, 'what the hell,' but I don't think weed suits me anymore. Eh.
Life is dreary.
Worry.
Worry.
Worry.
Sometimes, I just don't like people. They disappoint me.
And that's the mood I'm in.
O.k.
Here are my two responses to the RNC.
Give this a listen whether you know the song or not.
Here's the info on this one:
Please consider donating to a bail fund near you https://www.communityjusticeexchange.... and/or to https://www.freedomforimmigrants.org/ and/or https://www.innocenceproject.org/
If you'd like to learn more about the prison abolition movement, please watch this video by Ruth Wilson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HWqY...
This video was recorded in October 2019 in front of the Atlanta Penitentiary, a notoriously corrupt federal prison which houses almost 2,000 inmates and detainees.
“Millionaire” speaks hauntingly to the state of rampant inequity that has been endemic to our modern world and our country since their inceptions.
The glorification and celebrity of the ultra-wealthy (see: number-based epithets like “millionaire” and “billionaire” that inherently deify) leads many to simultaneously revile and chase this kind of inflated influence.
This interwoven web of big (often inherited) money, a profit-over-people mindset, and the criminalization of poverty has led to a for-profit carceral system that is extractive, punitive, and particularly harmful to black and brown lives.
An insidious cash bail system further centralizes the issue of wealth, allowing white collar criminals to pay their way out of jail and leaves those who have committed nonviolent survivalist offenses to sit in jail for exorbitant amounts of time awaiting trial.
Prisons as they exist in the U.S. today (and perhaps in all forms) are actively harmful facilitators of recidivism, racism, corruption, and the legacy of slave labor. A massive overhaul of the rehabilitative paradigm is the only way forward.
Season 3, Episode 16 - Millionaire (David Olney)
Music and Lyrics by David Olney Arranged by Drew Krasner
Liam Lewis - vocals, mandolin
Courtney Swain - vocals Jessica Kion - vocals Ethan Crystal - vocals Luke McGinnis - vocals Evan Tyor - vocals Ben Marcus - vocals
Jon Chen - cello Sam Quiggins - cello
Drew Krasner - tenor sax Jared Yee - tenor sax Mike Rilli - trombone
Ben Levin - electric guitar Ian Anderson - acoustic guitar Andrea DeMarcus - bass Kevin Grossman - drums
Engineered by Evan Tyor and Kevin Grossman Mixed and Mastered by Evan Tyor Filmed by Liz Maney and Kelvin Alfonso Video Edited by Liz Maney
Apartment Sessions Logo Animation by Brian Plautz Session Title Handwriting by Liam Lewis Penitentiary Illustration by Ben Marcus Outro Music by Evan Tyor
Powered in part by Sun Lab Studio
Thank you to Dave and Lisa Strohauer, Eric Damn Belt, and everyone at Earthshaking music for the years of support, thanks to Dave Kirslis for the kit, thanks to Taylor Chicoine for the gear.
Thank you to our Patrons, who make these videos possible. To become a Patron, visit us at www.Patreon.com/ApartmentSessions
Apartment Sessions is created & produced by Luke McGinnis, Evan Tyor, Drew Krasner, and Liz Maney
Subscribe at www.Youtube.com/ApartmentSessions Join our mailing list: https://mailchi.mp/41b66ac8ba8a/apart...
Filmed in Atlanta, Georgia in September 2019.
MILLIONAIRE by David Olney
Well, I started out with one long dollar Gambled with the man and I won me another I bought me a gun and I robbed my brother I'm bad, but I don't care boys, I'm gonna be a millionaire Well, I hopped on a ship and we sailed on the waves Dealt in rum and we dealt in slaves Left my captain and sold him brave He's gone, but I don't care, I'm gonna be a millionaire
How many of you wanna see me dead? How many of you wanna have my head? How many of you just live your lives? Wishing you were me boys, wishing you were me?
Well, I married rich, a pretty little wife Brought her misery every day of her life She slit her wrist with a silver knife You can't blame that on me boys, her money belongs to me
Well, I found myself in a good position To buy myself some cheap politicians Bought myself a big election That's just how it went boys, now I own the president
How many of you wanna see me dead? How many of you wanna have my head? How many of you just live your lives? Wishing you were me boys, wishing you were me?
When you say your prayers down on your knees Ask the Lord, forgive you, please If it crosses your mind say one for me I know where I'm bound boys, I know where I'm bound
Cause I started out with one long dollar Gambled with the man and I won me another I bought me a gun and I robbed my brother I'm bad, but I don't care boys, I'm gonna be a millionaire
I was antsy yesterday. It felt like Saturday. Midday we decided to run a few errands. We headed over to International Galleries to see our beloved Debbie Stewart. I had decided I wanted to frame my last note from David Olney. Ernie kinda laughed at me when I carefully placed in a plastic bag before heading out the door, but Debbie understood. It was so lovely to see her, as always, and IN PERSON too!
We went back to the car, ready to head to the grocery store but Ernie couldn't unlock my door with his key fob. Hmmm. He used the key on his side only to get to find the car completely dead. Every single thing. Dead.
I called the boys and Owen headed over in Leo's car. It wasn't THAT hot a day but sitting in a car in a parking lot made it feel so. I tried to stick my head out periodically to catch breezes. After waiting for a while Ernie shrugged and put the key in and it started just fine.
Huh.
We waited for Owen so he could follow us home. We made a quick stop to buy corn, not realizing it was in honor of the Sweetcorn Festival. Five bucks for a dozen ears, plus a bag, plus a water bottle, and there was someone wearing a corn costume so that was nice. We headed toward Champaign but the car kept wanting to die. We did ok until stopped in front of a light on University with, of course, a long line of cars behind us. By the time Ernie got the hood up to signal people to go around us and Owen had popped out of his car, it came back and we were able to make it home. He turned off the a/c and then we didn't seem to have a problem. Hmmm.
We've got an appt to take it in but it's not until after Labor Day.
Damn it.
And I feel like going on a wander.
Oh, well. I still have more episodes of My Kitchen Rules, which is good as I have decided I am not going out in my yard until we get a freeze.
Other notes:
1. Leo has been un-furloughed!! Hopefully business will keep up so he can stay. He's very excited to get back to work. I love that boy.
2. Owen is playing a wedding today. He has reassured me he'll be very careful re: masking and Trinity has promised to send pics.
3. I really like it when I wake up in the middle of the night (for me) and can smell that Owen and Trinity have been cooking dinner.
4. Every night around 9:30 or 10:00 I start haunting AirBnB or VRBO to look at places to stay in Maine. I want so bad to make it happen. The problem is that although we might be able to swing a week's stay (I WAS hoping for another stimulus check) it takes so darn long to get there. It's two nights in a hotel either way. You CAN do it with one night only but it never seems worth it in how tired you are when you get there. Ideally, we drive to Buffalo in one day and then into southern Maine the next night. I don't know. I want to figure out a way to swing it. I was thinking maybe October...past the peak of leaves so it wouldn't be as expensive. I keep obsessing and mulling it over. Ernie shakes his head but I know he really wants to go too. Then again, who knows what the car is going to cost.
We shall see.
5. Oh, I remembered another David Olney anecdote! He and Sergio or Dan would most often leave all their stuff with us overnight and come back and get it in the morning. I remember the morning after that first show I had set aside three CDs I wanted to buy. I brought them over to him and he waved his hand and said, "no charge." I protested and said that I wanted to pay. He paused, then grinned and said, "You're not very good at this, are you?" I said no and handed him $30 and we both laughed as he shook his head.
Dinner note:
I bought one of those zoodler things a year or so ago and rather thought I'd wasted my money but lo and behold we are really enjoying our zoodled zucchini and squash. The chicken glaze had honey in it..hence the darkness. I had planned on curry and honey but am out of my beloved Penzey's Sweet Curry Powder so switched to chipotle powder, mustard and honey. That and the sweet corn made for a damned yellow dinner (did add some green beans for a bit of color) but it was delicious.
Thinking about David Olney today. It was a year ago today that David Olney and Dan Seymour were at our house. So many other friends were there---Van...and Lucienne. It was glorious. A full year ago. It feels like another lifetime.
I remember getting anxious when it was getting late and they weren't back from their hotel yet. Then someone told me David was sitting at the table in the front yard talking to folks. Teri took this picture which I love.
It was such a wonderful night.
I still find it hard to believe he's gone. Seven months now. Eight months since Ernie's New Year's adventures in the hospital and the start of his chemo. I know I'm still grieving these things. It's why I'm not listening to much music and why I close myself up in the house too much.
I'm grieving the loss of David and the loss of Nick, and I'm grieving the change in Ernie's health. Ernie's had cancer so god damned long (the other day when I was giving info for one of his MRI's they asked me when he'd been diagnosed and I started to say 2014...then realized, whoops, it was 2004) that I've talked with numerous people after being diagnosed or going through treatment. When somebody is diagnosed I always tell them or their partner that it's ok to grieve. You can be positive and confident that all will work out fine but you still get to grieve for the vision of your life you had..the vision that didn't include this. We never see these things coming, even though we should know better, we see our life going merrily along. When something like this happens though, you have to adjust your view of your life and so it's ok to grieve that change.
That's what I keep telling myself, that it's ok to grieve, but it's hard to admit it to myself. I work so hard to appreciate the wonderful things I have in my life that to give in to grief sometimes feels selfish.
I am fully convinced that there are gifts in hard times. I have been changed profoundly by hard times and I am a better person for it. Not perfect, but better. I am grateful for the gifts I have found and the ones I have been given, such as my three guys, but sometimes, well, sometimes I grieve.
Some Mondays just are supposed to be Sunday 2.0. Today was one of those. I asked Ernie if it could be Sunday again but he said he couldn't help me with that. So I stayed in bed later than I should have and read the news and poked around online and then, to make myself feel better I played this very loudly.
Thank you, David. You are still helping me get by. He talked to me in a dream the other night but I can't remember what he said.
I have no other news of import. Bob still loves Ernie. Here is Ernie sitting on the side of the bed after waking me up. Oh, Bob. Then he just hurled himself at Ernie and kind of deflated.
We tried some Chesapeake Bay rockfish for dinner last night. I'd never had it before. We absolutely loved it. I think I overcooked it a bit but it was still good. And the lime/ginger/mayo marinade really didn't do a damn thing, but it was so good that didn't matter a bit. A nice, clean, somewhat meaty white fish. Ernie LOVED it.
A shot of good news. Remember the dead tree that's on the property line between us and the brick house to the east? The one the city says we have to cut down (understandably) and that is going to cost thousands of dollars? I mean, yes, we get to split the cost but still way out of our budget? We had talked to the neighbor and he was getting an estimate. However....yesterday somebody from Ameren knocked on our door and said they needed to remove the tree because it's close to the wires.
Ernie said, "Oh, really? What would that cost?"
"FREE," said the man.
I know. Go ahead, blink away tears. They probably won't be able to do it until September which is after the city's due date but they are contacting the city about it. Ernie and the neighbor both signed permission slips. They will leave all the wood there so we'll have to pay to have it removed but, oh man, that's FINE.
Crossed fingers it all works but that is a HUGE relief. I'm trying to think of some adjective better than huge but nothing seems else seems adequate.
Ernie came upstairs to my office to tell me, so Bob accompanied him. Of course.
We made calamari for dinner last night. It was the first time I've cooked it and I really wanted it to work because it's damn cheap for seafood, but I can't say it was a resounding success. I thought I was cooking it very quickly but it still ended up a tad rubbery. Well, to be honest, more than a tad. We had it with salad greens, crisped quinoa, and a lemony herb vinaigrette. Eh. Any suggestions?
Our friend Pat sent Ernie this page from a Chicago paper. I don't know...Reader? Illinois Entertainer? Regardless....look down at the bottom of the Tut's ad. At the time I would have gone to the Our Daughter's Wedding show, or the Bohemia shows, or Combo Audio...all of whom I saw here in Champaign (well, we saw Bohemia all over) but right there in the mix is my beloved David Olney with the X-Rays. Of course, we were living in Champaign then, before Michigan and Chicago, and I knew nothing about David at that point but it made me so happy to see this little bit of overlap in our histories if that makes any sense. My guy.
I've been missing David Olney. On our trip to Beaver Island last week we listened to one of his albums and his face and his voice have stuck within me.
It just seems like he should be walking up to our porch. I would open the door and hug him and tell him he looked beautiful and he would give me that little smirk that meant, "she's a little over the top but I love her anyway." Dan Seymour would be standing behind him smiling and I would be SO happy. Sometimes that moment was even better than the performance, not that that's really possible.
When I think of people I've lost there's always one little gesture or detail that hits me and I wonder how that can not exist in this world anymore. How can the way my sister rubbed her nose not be still happening? How can that quick smile of Nick Rudd's not be there? How can David's kindly smirk not be happening?
I remember him singing Look, one of my favorites, once and as he started he pulled his glasses off and threw them on the coffee table in front of him in our crowded living room. And he closed his eyes for a moment and sang and then he did that little shuffle I loved so much.
I guess that moment is still out there. But I miss him.
When David Olney died earlier this year I was gutted. I'd lost a friend, someone I loved, and a beloved artist. I was, and remain, utterly heartbroken.
When Nick Rudd died last week I was also gutted. Again, I lost a friend, someone I loved, and a beloved artist. But it's different. Because he took his own life and died in such psychic pain. And that will haunt me in a way other losses never can.
The last two nights I haven't been able to sleep and every time I wake, tossing and turning, I have some wisp of Nick or his voice or a song in my head. Mind you, I didn't know him as intimately as many others did, so I can't imagine what they are going through.
My skills are not necessarily many, but one thing I do well however, is love really, really hard. And I loved him hard, as I did Olney, my husband, my family, and so many friends.
I haven't been able to listen to much of his music yet. I have played the video of one of the songs he did at our house last fall when he opened for the Peter Holsapple Combo. Thanks to my beloved V'ron for capturing it. Afterward, I told him how much I loved this one and he gave me that quick smile and said, "I knew you'd like that one."
After he was at our house for Thanksgiving last year, I wrote this:
I have the Amy Rigby book sitting on my mantel. I am reading it VERY slowly because I want it to last a long time. On Thanksgiving when Teri came in she glanced at it twice and laughed telling me she thought it was an old picture of me. I laughed too and told her I was flattered. Then I turned at looked at Nick sitting next to me and said, "but I had my moments, didn't I?" Nick has the best smile and chuckle, and he did just that before saying slowly, "You sure did, you sure did."
I remember another time, long, long ago, when I was back in my Aquanet eyeliner days (possibly this era, but actually a bit earlier I think) and Nick was looking at some old 60's record with a picture of a woman with big dark hair on the cover and he said, "Man, I think all women should wear their hair like this," and then he grinned, pointed at me, and continued, "or like yours." And that has stayed with me 35+ years. I remember Boo once said she used to think of me as 'that flighty girl from Record Service." And I miss that girl. With Nick gone it seems like a little more of that girl, with the big hair and the eyeliner, is gone. That's the thing when you lose someone. Your shared memories are just that much smaller. You still have them, but they are smaller.
At a going-away party before he left for LA in 2017. Look at my boys. Owen was only 15.
Here's Nick giving Owen one of his amps later that night.
1. I was reading this morning, yet another trashy novel that I won't remember, and a character was talking about her grade school being five blocks away. It made me wonder how many blocks my grade school was and right away I was plunged back into memories of walking to school. There was a path between the school and the neighboring houses and we would take that and it would turn and lead us through houses to our street, Meadow Lane. It came back to me so clearly. I remember when there was a house built in what used to be the empty field with the big rock (turns out it was just an empty lot) and I remember which houses had barking dogs so you'd have to scurry fast past those. There were lots of trees and bushes in that part of the path and it always seemed dark to me...when I got close to Meadow Lane it seemed to brighten up and be safe again. I guess it was really only something like three blocks but it seemed MUCH longer.
2. Here's my childhood home. It was Polly Voelkl red when I was a kid, and there was a white picket fence, and quince bushes on either side of the steps and a bit of euonymus that grew near the window of the bedroom Judi and I shared. There was a forsythia (which I always assumed was chosen because of my name) by the end of the driveway just out of range of this picture and a gas-powered street light. What happened to those? Everyone had them in our neighborhood. Oh, and on the left corner was a tree that had purple leaves that my sister Debbie named Emily. There were yellow daylilies on the left side of the house and a whole row of peonies on the right side of the house, at least until they added the garage when I was in college.
It's funny how sharp those memories came back to me.
3. Breakfast this morning was a heap of broccoli with a bit of egg. Dinner last night was popcorn with smoked paprika. I know, I should have cooked. I shared with Rascal though. Ernie did better than I and had a particularly good batch of his chicken and rice gruel. I added green peas and green onion and he was quite happy. His eating is pretty good this round.
4. I righted Bob's box but they seem to be striking. Hmmm.
5. I'm thinking we'll go for a drive today to get out of the house. Ernie's dozing on the couch right now and the boys are in their rooms so I will just ramble to you for a moment.
6. Next time I get a delivery I'm ordering vodka and ginger ale in honor of John Prine. Ernie might even have one.
7. Who knows...maybe today will finally be the day we take the laundry off the dining room table. Unlikely, but could be.
If you could add anyone, alive or dead to your team, who would it be? Br’er Rabbit at first. Abraham Lincoln on second. Gandhi on third. Billie Holiday at short. In the outfield, Daffy Duck, Robert Johnson, Aretha Franklin. Bette Davis behind the plate and Otis Redding on the mound. That’s my team.
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