We had our dear friends Roger and Ceal over for dinner last night. They are lovely, lovely people and had been really kind, supportive, and HELPFUL with my photos during the Boneyard (which are still up at 25 O'Clock for the time being) so we'd wanted to have them over as a thank you. Since I planned dinner when it was snowing the night before, it was kind of a cold weather meal; grass-fed beef pot roast, mashed sweet potatoes, and a salad. Strawberries for dessert.
I'd bought a couple of gorgeous Japanese sweet potatoes at Green Top Grocery in Bloomington last week. I cooked those and mashed them with one regular sweet potato. I love both kinds of potatoes. The Japanese ones have purple skin and a creamy, denser interior, but have a cleaner taste to me. The regular sweet potatoes we buy have a warmer, softer taste, but the combination was delightful, especially with some 'gravy' I made from reducing the cooking broth of the pot roast. After all that we needed a nice springy salad, so I used some spring greens, avocado, and the delightful sprouts and edible flowers I'd bought, also at Green Top, from Eminence Farms. Utterly wonderful.
And we talked and we laughed and we talked and we laughed. Owen's band came over so he left to go downstairs to practice with them. We talked for a bit more before Roger and Ceal left. We even cleaned up more than we usually do. It was a good evening. I am so grateful for my friends.
And lastly, ever since buying the beautiful microgreens and flowers from Eminence Farms, I have had the who's Eminence Front in my head. Oh, the circles of life, huh?
I got up this morning and threw together a smoothie. It's official, strawberries are my least favorite smoothie berry. How can that be when I love strawberries? I also had a tiny piece of salmon to cook. As I sipped my smoothie and took my pills, I laid the salmon in a cast iron skillet with a bit of avocado oil and salt. Later, as I sat in the living room, watching Bob sleep in the chair I wanted to be in, I nibbled it and pondered why it was one of the best pieces of salmon I've had in ages. Why is it, that you can do the same thing over and over, and sometimes it is perfect, and other times it's just ok? There's got to be some kind of life lesson in there, but I learn those mostly by letting them simmer in the back of my head, so I will let that simmer away and move on.
In other news, Ernie and Owen and Duncan head to Space in Evanston tomorrow to see my beloved Aaron Lee Tasjan. Why the hell I didn't get myself a ticket I don't know. I guess I just thought Owen and Duncan might feel cooler without a full set of parents. As long as they tell Aaron Lee how much love I send along it will be ok. Seriously folks, if you haven't listened to this man, you really need to get on it.
I haven't posted this many videos in a while. I must be feeling good. Or, he's amazing. Or both.
And now, I must give strawberries a little credit. The smoothie with strawberries did turn a particularly lovely shade of pale green when it had been sitting a bit. Interesting how the berries come on strong right off but the greens come through in the end. Is that another life lesson? I must be thinking too much.
Onward, with my good friend Bob (the one who is sleeping in MY chair).
Feeling thoughtful and grateful today. Last night Jeff posted this Ian Hunter interview. Ernie and I couldn't take our eyes off Ian as we listened. So perfect.
Later in an email from Steve Lindstrom, he referred to the dinner we had before the Mott show as the "IAN DINNER (forever shall it be known!)" And the combination of those two things, the video from Jeff, and the email from Steve made me think yet again about the bonding that sharing music creates. The fact that the five of us sat and ate dinner together that night, Steve, Jeff, Debbie, Ernie and me, all of us laughing and practically talking in shorthand because we understood each other so well at that very moment, it makes me feel even closer to them that I already did before that night. It's a crazily strong thing, this sharing of experience. I imagine that the sharing of any art does that to a group, but for us, music happens to be the art that speaks to our hearts the most directly. Today, I feel gloriously thankful for what music does for me, and what it does for my friendships.
I continue. No pictures of the band because between my phone and the huge guy in front of me, they wouldn't do them justice.
Lots more to write and say and think about Friday and Saturday...it will come, but not yet.
Lori, who I met Friday evening, please find me on Facebook (if you like)!
Onward.
Walking back to the hotel, after the show. It was warm and smelled a bit wet from some rain that must have come down while we were in the show. It was perfect.
There was something nice about peering at the marquee from under the el. I haven't spent much time in the Loop in ages. It felt good.
Our hotel room was tiny, almost filled by the bed, but when I lay down I could see the Carbon and Carbide building. I took a picture when I got there and peered out, and then took a bunch more when I was lying in bed after the show. My friend Ceal thought that was very funny, but it seemed perfectly reasonable to me.
Glad to have this rainy, quiet morning. It was an intense week for a lot of different reasons, and I need this time to de-escalate a bit.
I've almost got no words about the Mott show...but I'm sure I'll find some. It's been kind of a crazy week here so I wasn't even really focused on the show ahead of time. Tuesday was busy...trying to get started on insurance, etc. from the car accident. Our poor car is in limbo, still at the tow truck driver's because, since the other drivers went to the hospital, we couldn't get insurance info and the police report wasn't ready. So we managed to get a rental and tried to get ourselves recombobulated (why have I never used this word before?), and that was about it. We took off midday on Wednesday and had a painless, sunny drive up to Chicago. We checked into our hotel, which was relatively cheap, with a tiny room, but had a splendid view of one of my favorite buildings, the Carbon and Carbide building. We headed over to take some pictures of the marquee and immediately ran into fellow Ianites Rick and Betsy Graves. It seemed a good sign! We walked around taking pictures, guessing who else was there for the show. Ernie looked at one guy walking towards us, a bit older, shaggy hair, and said to him, "Mott?" They both laughed and high fived or fist bumped or something like that. We were not the only ones giddy with excitement. We chatted for a bit with Connie Van Beek and all I could think of was how glad I am that we splurged and did this, and how very, very good it felt to be with our tribe.
We headed across the street to take a shot from there, and a woman came up and said, "Give me your phone, I'll take a picture," and kind of pushed us into position. I remember thinking that perhaps it was stupid to hand someone my phone and walk away, but it was all good. We saw Debbie Stewart and Jeff Evans under the marquee and waved and made our way over. As we stood laughing and taking pictures who practically walked into us but the inimitable Brad Elvis and Chloe Orwell. It all seemed meant to be. We had dinner with Jeff and Debbie and Steve Lindstrom and it was gloriously fun. It felt so right, so good to be with people that you can almost speak to in shorthand because there are so many shared memories and influences. Again, it was our tribe. Our people.
The show was, well, I gotta go with the word glorious again. It was perfect. Perfectly imperfectly perfect...joyous and raucous and loud and strong and electric. I was struck by how DIFFERENT it was from all the Ian shows I have seen. I've seen Ian about a million times. Well, ok, not a million, but a fair number, starting from when I somewhat listlessly accompanied a friend to see Heart at the International Amphitheatre when I was 17 and found myself blown away by the opening act of Hunter/Ronson Band, I see him every time I can manage. And, throughout those shows, I've heard a good number of these songs done by him and the amazing Rant band. However, this felt completely different....looser, more rambling, more organic, more alive. Damn it, none of that is exactly it, but it was definitely Mott the Hoople, not Ian Hunter. Ian was fucking incredible, and as much as I watched Ariel Bender and Morgan Fisher, and the always amazing James Mastro, Mark Bosch, Paul Page, Steve Holley and Dennis DeBrizzi, it was Ian I couldn't take my eyes off of. And folks...he's 79 and 5/6; he's not 80 YET! His voice was incredibly strong and he seemed to be having fun...he seemed lighthearted and joyful. And at the very end of Dudes, when he said, "Hey you there. You with the glasses. I want you. Meet me after the show. I can still do it," and laughed, pointing to himself, nobody standing in the audience had one fucking doubt.
1. I took a good ten years off my life this morning, trying to get tickets for the Mott the Hoople reunion. There has GOT to be a better way! It took forever, but I finally got two tickets for the Chicago Theatre. They're not great seats, but really....it's Mott...what the hell does it matter? I tried to convince myself I couldn't afford to go, but I couldn't resist... It's Ian Hunter, Ariel Bender (Luther Grosvenor) and Morgan Fisher....as well as the amazing Rant Band. We had to do it, so we dusted off a credit card, and I'm tickled that we did.
Side note: How does Ian look SO good at 79 years old?
2. Yesterday, someone contacted me and said that while doing genealogy research they'd come across some letters written by my great uncle in the 1920's. He tracked me down and is sending them to me. How extraordinarily kind. Don't worry family---I will share when I get them!
3. Lunch today: Sweet potato, a spoonful or two of leftover quinoa (we tend to cook a big batch and then have it on hand in the refrigerator), on top of spinach and salad greens, just salt and olive oil on top.
4. It's funny how some buildings just call out to you. We were driving down the street in Evansville, Indiana, and we went by this old fire station. I said, "ohhh, ohhhh, OHHH," so Ernie knew he had to turn around. He pulled into the parking area of the new fire station just across the street and waited for me. I walked around it, taking a few pictures. At one point I stopped, and saw that a van had paused, not wanting to get into my shot. I smiled my thanks, and he leaned out the window, and said, "Your name isn't Sue, is it?" I nodded no, and we both shrugged our shoulders and smiled. Those little interactions can be so nice. Comforting somehow.
I loved this building, with it's little street sign, and horns on the corner still, beautiful cornice, and practically a nest of wires around it.
5. And last, but not least, some nice old curb and steps.
oh, and another side note: if you like things like this, I hope you have stopped to admire the old limestone sidewalk on Market Street downtown. It's in front of two of my favorite buildings in downtown Champaign.
Random notes, because my brain remains stuck in random mode.
1. The other day, while it was gray and wet outside, Ernie and I curled up and watched The Post. Later, Ernie mentioned it to Leo, and when Leo said he didn't know what it was about, Ernie told him it was about releasing the Pentagon papers, and it was about the guy that discovered them and leaked them, and about the issues of whether the Washington Post should post them. It really struck me, because, although that is all true, that is not at ALL how I would have described it. I would have said it was about Katherine Graham and the challenges of taking over the paper from her husband, and father before that, in a world of men, and how she found her place in that world, despite their dismissal of her, and developed the strength to publish the papers. Funny, how Ernie and I, who are so incredibly in sync with each other, could read it so differently. Perspective, perspective, perspective. Regardless...we thought it was a great movie, despite one or two heavy handed moments (when Streep walked out of the court passed a long line of only women, who gazed at her admiringly).
2. I'm still on the smoothie learning curve. Today's was so-so....blueberry/cherry/spinach with a bit of coconut milk. Eh. I'm looking forward to when I can expand fruits. Right now it's only blueberries, cherries, and granny smith apples (or goji berries, cranberries or elderberries). Overall, they're getting a bit better. Here's my breakfast view with the living room rearranged for winter and no house concerts...centered around the fireplace.
3. I dug out my old drive in slides to post on Instagram. Of course, some of the photos aren't great to begin with and I'm doing a cheap poor man's job of converting them, but it's nice to see their friendly faces. Somewhere I have another box of slides but no one seems to know where it is. I have my fingers crossed Owen will unearth it. For now though, these are giving me pleasure.
Late 1980's, who knows where:
4. It gives me utter delight that Owen and Duncan have fallen in love with Aaron Lee Tasjan. The night the band opened for Jason Ringenberg/Fats Kaplin and Kristi Rose, I asked the band to bring up all the chairs for us. So the four 16 year olds tromped up and down the stairs holding chairs over their heads at times, shouting the lyrics to Ready To Die. Sometimes small pleasures are shiveringly good.
5. Recently heard in our house: "Why is there engine oil in with these plates?" "Why are there guitar strings of the back of the toilet?" "Why is there toothpaste in the media room?" Anyone think there is a blonde common denominator here?
6. Ernie recently made himself a bowl of ramen, his favorite comfort food (well, after my curried oven fried chicken, but I'm not making that these days), and proclaimed it the foods of the lesser Gods. I love him. And speaking of love, the other day, Owen made a bowl for himself. I was trying to nudge him away as I wanted access to the only clear spot on our counter. He said, "Wait, wait, wait, there's one last touch," and he proceeded to sprinkle some Penzey's sweet curry powder on it. And white my heart didn't grow twelve sizes, I was inordinately proud.
7. Leo drove the whole family to lunch at Fries and Peanuts the other day in his car. I thought it was worth an attempt at documentation.
8. Off to the oncologist today to see if he can make sense of Ernie's leg.
It's taken me awhile to sit down and write about Friday's incredible 10-20-30 celebration. With Ernie and I both being a tad under the weather, we were totally wiped out afterwards. We are starting to feel normal again, at least out new normal!! As the memories of the evening percolated around in my head as we recovered, I couldn't escape the word, 'family.' I have talked often about the family of friends we have, but never has a house concert felt like such a family celebration to me. Jason, Fats, and Kristi Rose all feel like family to us now. And we do not take that lightly, we are honored by their friendship and love. Of course, having the Taxi Boys open the show also cemented the feeling of circling connections. It was an extraordinary night, and Ernie and I felt so loved. We thank every single of you that were there, and extra thanks to ALL the people that really stepped up and helped make this happen, particularly to Teri McCarthy, and my dear brother-in-law, Dennis.
Every week I have a phone call check in from the new doctor's office I am working with. Each week is a different topic---this week's was mindset, goals and thankfulness, and I almost got teary as I told her how grateful I am for the support of my friends and family, how this house concert really brought that home to me. Then she asked if I ever journaled, and I had to explain that technically, no, but I've got this blog...heh.
Our Taxi Boys:
photo courtesy Richard McClaughry Hill
Our beloved Fats and Kristi Rose:
photo courtesy Veronical Rusnak
I must admit I wish I had video of Fats doing a stunning piece on his violin. The tone that man gets just blows me away. So beautiful.
And, of course, the one and only Jason Ringenberg, whom I adore.
photo courtesy Veronica Rusnak
Good God, but I love this song. My favorite line is about bankers wearing Ramones t-shirts on the weekend or something like that. Yes.
Possibly my favorite point of the whole evening. Jason, Fats and Kristi Rose together on the Weight. So moving. Side note...I HAD meant to adjust the lights...sorry!
My beloved Sue reached out to all the folks that had played here and gathered greetings and anniversary wishes from them. I was totally blown away and so touched....by all the kind words, but also the fact that Sue took this on to do. Again, we are so fortunate. I won't post them all here....it would be downright embarrassing...but I will post a few.
from Paul Griffith: OMG, yes! House concerts are saving the singer-songwriter business, and Cynthia and Ernie's is the best. Great vibe, great hospitality, great music. Thank you!
from Annie McCue: Congrats Cynthia and Ernie for being part of the Underground Railway for singer-songwriters who are flying under the radar of the corporate music business. It was truly a joy to play at your house. We all appreciate your concert series so much! Happy Anniversary! xoxo
from Bill Jackson: I would be delighted if you added my name to the congratulations for Cynthia & Ernie. They are amazing people and living proof of Community and the power of Music to bring people together. From all the way down here in Melbourne, Australia I continually feel their love and support and look forward to seeing them again.
from Eric Brace: From my first visit it was clear that this was one special, magical place. In return trips to play in this beloved Champaign home, I have received not one, but TWO moon landing cakes from a Sandwich Life regular, I've squeezed into the packed kitchen to sample as many BYO wines as I could, I've seen LEGO magic, I've skidded on ice out the side door, I've sat on the staircase and listened to other sing beautiful songs, I've made friends for life with Cynthia and Ernie, and I can't imagine a world without them and this incredible space they've created for folks like me. Here's to ten more years of sharing the music they love with the friends they love, and to ten more years of that love coming back at them in joyous karmic waves.
from Peter Cooper: Congratulations to Cynthia and Ernie. These are great people who support wondrous music and wondering, wandering musicians. Their home is a haven and a magnet and a safe space for those of us with the nerve or foolishness to travel and pontificate in the services of expression and communication and, in the best of times, something that approaches communion. I love these people. I'd fight for them, except I know I'll never have to. Nobody would challenge these folks. Nobody would combat these folks. Nobody would or could do anything but appreciate and celebrate these folks. In summation, kiss my grits. With love and devotion, Peter Cooper
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.
Thank you to all from the bottom of our hearts. You all are our beloved family.
The other evening I got something in my eye. I guess it was early evening because I remember complaining to Leo as he got home from work, while I fussed with my eye. I couldn't see anything in the eye, and couldn't manage to get rid of it. I finally decided I would just go to bed and it would gone in the morning. Denial has alway worked so well for me. Ha! I slept a few hours and then began tossing and turning, alternating trying to ignore it, and trying to flush it out. Eventually I stomped downstairs and tried eye drops. Nothing. I took another shot at flushing it out and got it. I have no idea what it was, a little white goopy thing, but damn, it hurt like hell, and the relief I felt when I finally got it was akin to when Leo's huge head finally popped out me when he was born. Lord that child had a big head. As I patted my face dry, I went into the kitchen to get a drink of water and saw the clock, 4:58 am. I almost cried. I thought it was the middle of the night. I went back to bed as Ernie got up and finally got a few hours of sleep.
I'm trying to look at the whole thing as some kind of analogy or parable; something that feels huge to you at the time, and overwhelms you, turns out to be a tiny thing, and makes little difference to your life, only a short period of misery that fades away in daylight. So, I am looking for daylight to see clearly and see what the day will feel like without my grain of sand.
As some of you know, I am no longer at my job. I had taken several months off while I tried to figure out medical issues to no avail. I am working with another doctor now and am hopeful that I will find a solution. In the mean time, I am fine generally, just fighting exhaustion, etc., etc., etc. I spent several hours yesterday trying to look at insurance options and lost several years off my life. That's good in the long run, as it will save several years of health insurance premiums, right? Lord, this country and health care.
Anyway...I must say, the whole "it takes a village" idea has never been more true with this house concert, or more needed. Friends have stepped up and WAY BEYOND, helping us get ready for this show and truly making it happen. Ernie (who has some minor health issues bothering him at the moment that have slowed him down) and I will be forever grateful, and realize more than ever what an incredible chosen family...a family of friends....we have. We send all of you our love.
I can't wait to see you all tomorrow night. There is nothing more joyous and healing than music, particularly with our beloved Jason Ringenberg, Fats Kaplin and Kristi Rose, and the Taxi Boys. There are still a few spaces left, so just yell if you are interested. The more, the merrier. I hope you can join us....my heart will be full!
This year, as I followed along at home, I tried to let the pleasure of reading reviews like those below, and my nightly browsing of videos, outweigh my jealousy. It pretty much worked.
Only at Americanafest could one of the week's best performances come inside a hat store. But that was the case to open the Hatwrks Happening as Nashville's own David Olney delivered an hour long clinic in songwriting. Olney is one of those guys who appears to have a 50 point IQ spot on anyone else in the room, but who is so humble and affable that he never comes across as pretentious, even when he's sprinkling references to Greek mythology and classic literary traditions into his folksy ballads.
What if god is a 17-year-old girl with purple hair standing in front of a Marshall amp playing a red guitar?
— David Olney
The hatWRKS Happenin' featured David Olney, who should be declared a national treasure, an unheralded traveler in Woody Guthrie's footsteps, all the more necessary in this dark and gloomy political clime.
Stolen picture from Van DeLisle. I ❤️shaggy David.
Best MVP: Aaron Lee Tasjan You couldn’t walk into a bar, club or even backyard during AmericanaFest and not bump into Aaron Lee Tasjan. The singer-guitarist, who released the terrific new album Karma for Cheap last week, kicked off his Americana week at the Basement East, where he performed a bombastic version of Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman” at the Show Up and Sing! tribute night. From there, he played at least one show each day, culminating with three gigs on Saturday. A believer of the “it’s not how you feel, but how you look” dogma, stylish cat Tasjan sported a different outrageous outfit each night. J.H.
I love this, and Ernie said, it doesn't sound ironic. Oh, love this guy so much. Owen said to me the other day, "How'd you get so lucky to get Aaron Lee play at our house?" I told him I didn't know....sheer luck.
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