Back in LV since Monday night. Back at work since Tuesday morning. Life is back to “normal”.
My mom went to the doctor today and I called to find out what the deal was. She’s doing much better. Weight is down (thank you, Lasix!), blood count is up, blood pressure is up (boo! hiss! add that med back into the regimen), and she’s feeling a little more like herself every day. I wish I could be there, but my sisters and my daughter have everything under control. My older sister, especially, has been a Godsend. We’re lucky she’s been able to take such good care of my mom. Very lucky, indeed.
In the future, though, I do believe I’ll be there to ease her burden (not that our mom is a burden…nowhere close!). I mean, I see this as my last summer in Vegas. The heat and I are no longer close friends. I burned out on him, if you will. I’m totally breaking up with heat! Hehee. I also don’t like being so far away from my family. This latest round of illness with my mom was the straw that broke this camel’s…back. It’s time to head west again. Although, if Mr T at the airport has his way, I’ll stay here. I dunno. He was rather adorable and persuasive, but the fact that he failed to get my phone number leads me to believe I’ll not be marrying a secret prince moonlighting as people shuffler at the ‘port.
Know anyone with a truck who wants to take a roadtrip? Seriously, all I own will fit nicely in the back of a pickup truck. It’s a short trip, but think of all the fun we could have stopping in Baker to get Mad Greek! And, hello! CALIFORNIA! SAN DIEGO! BEACHES! Plus I know a couple good places for BBQ. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Eh, hit me up in the comments if you want to go cruise to Cali with me.
My Honeyboy is officially retired as of Sunday. I understand why. Health issues. He’s 96. But I hate to think of him not playing his guitar and performing. Seems to me when you stop doing that which you love, that you’ve done for so long, it’s like giving your body permission to just…stop. So, I’m concerned, but also wishing him the best.
That said, it’s obvious I need to find myself another older bluesman to adore. That’s where Taildragger comes in.
Oh who am I kidding? I’m a collector. Nobody’s taking Honey’s place. They’re all special to me.
Silly photo policy with the Crayman. We had ONE SONG during which we (all 75 photographers with photo passes) were allowed to shoot. Groups of ten were let on the ramp and told 90 seconds. Can you believe that? It was difficult to push our way through the others on the ramp and get a few shots from different angles.
My photographic hero and one of the best voices to come along in ages…together in one photo! They would be Dick Waterman and Karen Lovely.
Somewhere in my archives is a story about a book Mr Waterman wrote that LD and I read together, a story or two at a time.
In case you weren’t aware, Mr Waterman was a promoter and manager for many of the old bluesmen and blueswomen back in the late sixties and early seventies. If not for his efforts, many artists would have languished in obscurity. Along the way, he and the artists became friends. His photographs are incredible; a beautiful look at moments that would have otherwise been lost to us forever. I love his work. His stories are also unparalleled.
Somewhere in my many photos from last weekend lurks a photo of us together. Hardly important, but significant personally. So, here, you get about photo of the man, this time all on his own.
And then there’s the lovely Karen Lovely. Her voice is just so beautiful and wholly original. In the blues world, far too many female vocalists end up trying to emulate Etta James and Janis Joplin. None of that with Karen! I could listen to her all day long. Add to that the fact that she really is a lovely woman, inside and out, and you have an artist you really want to tell the world about.
Just to give you a little taste of what this lady can do:
While part of my head is still on a beach in Daytona, laughing at something a bronzed god Tall Dog said, kicking sand in his direction, the rest of me is gearing up for what is going to be a crazy week full of music, laughter, lots of running from stage to stage, and spending time with some of the loveliest people on earth.
I am so looking forward to Portland, it’s not even funny. I have my main gal picking me up from the airport, taking me to do a little sightseeing, and then we have a big ass birthday party to attend for another friend of mine. Then we have four days of absolute craziness at the festival, but it’s the best kind of crazy you can imagine. As we wait for our turn on the photo ramps, we dance and sing and laugh our asses off. Afterward, we decompress with a cocktail or two, telling stories, and laughing even more. And this year? I’m on to that black curb that likes to lurk in darkness. I will NOT fall for its tricks again. (Literally. My knee still bears the scars of that encounter last year.)
I’m excited to see some of the big acts I’ve never seen before, to see some of my favorites all over again, and to basically just drink it all in.
Also, I’m looking forward to some of the bread, the steak, the pita chips (shh), and maybe an elephant ear one day.
Mostly, though, it’s the people. I made such incredible friends last year that just knowing they’re looking forward to seeing me as well makes me very happy.
Only one more day between me and Portland. Just one more day.
He wasn’t. I did this. Last summer. In a very Richardson-esque manner.
Really enjoying my time here in San Diego. I’ve seen Mad Mikey and the whole MM Family, a photographer or two, our dear, dear friends C&R…and have plans to catch up with others before I have to hit the road again.
Got a freaky story to tell, but that’s for later when I have a better internet connection.