I’m leavin’ in my black car,
I know when I’ll be back again,
Oh babe, it’ll be Sunday morn.
Many think I’m nuts, and that’s okay. I’ll only be gone like… ya know, 35 hours or so. 18 or more will be in my car. I got my Black Stone Cherry and Hinder, so, I’ll be fine.
The t-shirt I designed turned out awesome! It could have been better on the half tones but the guys used a lower mesh screen. It still kicks ass. I’ll post a pic when I get home.
Oh, yeah, I’m leaving actually Saturday morning but with everything going on right now, I probably won’t be able to post tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me. I’ve been seeing Georgia and Kentucky license plates EVERYWHERE! I take this as a sign that “nothing ventured, nothing gained” or “Get your ass to Georgia to see your boys from Kentucky!” OH FUCK!! That reminds me, it might be a good idea to print out my CONCERT TICKET tomorrow!
Might be a good idea NOT to leave home without that! I have so much to do… so little time. When this madness is over, I’ll be around to visit everyone a bit more frequently.
First, for those who didn’t swing by Peachworks today, the third necklace…
And, on with the story… (I posted this at MySpace as well)
This morning I overslept… really bad. I had awoken for a moment and wanted to sleep until the alarm went off in five or ten minutes. Alarm didn’t go off. Slept another 50 minutes. EEP!
Nate wasn’t bad. Normally he is sooo cranky in the morning. He likes this new school better so he doesn’t give me as hard a time as he did last year and every year he went to his old school.
This is all good. I can handle being late. Nate was going to get to school on time. No big deal.
Except… neither of us are early morning eaters. I practically force a breakfast bar down Nate so he has something on his stomach. I don’t eat until 9 or 10. Nate also has sinus trouble, especially in the Spring and Fall. This morning he sneezed but was careful so snot did not go spraying everywhere. Then we drove into the sun again.
He quickly rolled down the window, leaned out, and sneezed … HARD! Snot flew everywhere. We have no napkins or tissues anywhere. He’s still leaning out the car window with snot hanging out of his nose. Then, he takes it and dangles it from his finger.
Maybe on a half full stomach I could have handled this but it just totally grossed me out. After all of the diapers I changed, this grossed me out more than any of them. Worse, we’re stuck in traffic and I’m totally mortified that people behind us can see what he is doing. I’m gagging and retching and yelling all at the same time, terrified I’m actually going to vomit up my toenails. That’s how sick it made me.
Adding insult to injury, Nate has now figured out that I can drive, gag, and yell at the same time and threatens to eat the slimy bucket of snot still dangling from his finger. This sends me into another fit of gagging and mortification as we’re still stuck in traffic and had the asshat in the truck in front of me moved another half of an inch, I could have turned the corner and ended my humiliation. By this time, I’m hiding my face and praying that no one recognizes my car while trying not to listen to Nate threaten to eat snot.
I found a piece of cloth and made him wipe it off. He made it to school on time. I made it to work without yakking. I think that scores a 10.
I posted my BSC jewelry at Peachworks. Go on over and say HI to me and tell me what you think.
I know, that sounded weird, but hey, my middle name is “weird.” Actually, it’s Denise, but, close enough, right?
I’m a little tired and slap happy. Okay, I’m very tired and more than slap happy. Must sleep.
T-Bird has this shitty car. Half the time it won’t start and it definitely can’t take a hill worth a damn, bad thing when you live in WV. The temporary tags have been on it for two years because the dude who sold them the car skipped town without a forwarding address. So… no way to get it legal because it wasn’t in their name.
Tonight, at 10:34, she called me, “CANYOUCOMEDOWNHERE?”
“Can. You. Come. Down. Here?”
“Bob took the car to (local convenience store) and someone STOLE IT!”
Oh fuck. Since the car is cantankerous and won’t start sometimes, Bob parked it at the front of the store with the engine still running and someone stole it. Yeah. And please, keep in mind, we live in a pretty low crime area… just not something that happens to a 10 year old car.
She was worried about the temp tags etc., etc., and I told her, “Call the police.”
So, I packed up my little dude and off we went, the whole MILE down the road. She took my car to (local convenience store) and within five minutes she was back. The store clerk told her they had found the car already and the police had come by and picked up Bob.
Ten minutes later, Bob pulls up in the car. Seems the guy that stole it was driving a bit erratically and the police were BEHIND HIM when the BOLO went out. (BOLO = be on the lookout for…). They pulled him over about a mile from my place. They also found out the car IS in their name. How that happened we’ll never know AND… the stupid drunk car thief? He had two 22 ouncers in the front seat, unopened.
So, T-Bird got her car back, Bob and I shared the beer, and some drunk car thief is wishing he’d just stayed home tonight.
I promised a teaser for my 13 posts about Black Stone Cherry…
There is a tour schedule on my last post. I know, I keep promoting these four young gentlemen from Kentucky whose music kicks ass.
You ask, “Nanner, our Peach, why do keep doing this? You’ve linked their website and them in three or four (maybe five) posts. Why? You’ve never done this before.”
Because Ben, John Fred, Jon, and Chris are my people. Just as you are my people, they’re my people. Our roots are very similar and their music speaks to me. It reminds me of me, of the people I grew up around. Their music speaks to my soul.
Plus, they’re real people, down to Earth, friendly, and grateful they’re getting to live their dreams. I’ve gone a long time in my life without shit for support.
I see, I hear, I feel their potential and I’ll do whatever I can to help them live their dream. I see a lot of cities on the schedule where my blogger people live. If you can, go see my guys, go out back and meet them if you can. My people, meet my other people.
Stick with me through this and the 12 posts starting on Oct. 1st and I’ll tell you why Black Stone Cherry speaks to my soul. I swear I’ll make it worth your time. You’ll see why they’re my people and you’ll learn a little more about me in the process. Have a great weekend!
If you would like to read about my beading efforts, I have been posting regularly at Peachworks. Today I posted about my cats and beading. It’s entertaining.
I’ve also been posting over at MySpace. It’s my “only good news” blog. Today I posted about Black Stone Cherry and designing t-shirts. I know a lot of you can’t comment there because I think you still have to be a member, but, it’s there and it’s all good news.
I may do as Vince suggested and wait until Oct. 1st to begin the BSC – 13 posts series. I’ll post a teaser tomorrow but for now… pick a date… sorry Roadrunner…
Copyright © 2006 Roadrunner Records. All rights reserved.
What luck my people. I’m about to begin a new series of 13 posts, one for each song on the Black Stone Cherry CD. Now don’t say, “Awww, Nanner… not BSC again.”
You love me, don’t you? You know I mean well even if I can be a little overbearing at times. Wouldn’t you want me in your corner? Of course you would, because I ROCK!
If you’ve been reading me for a while then you may remember my post, “Down the ‘Nar Path” or even “The Fruit of a Christian II” about my growing up days in rural WV. Ya’ll seemed to like those a lot and if you stick with me, I promise it will be more of the same.
Besides, how can I head into my favorite season and my favorite holiday, Halloween, without a bit of folklore, old wives tales, and the number 13? It just wouldn’t be me.
Stick around or I’ll sic a haint on ya!
I’m tired of the rain that’s fallin’
Fallin’ down on me
Please help me find some shelter
From the pain that’s pourin’ on me. (Black Stone Cherry)
(Yesterday’s post was inspired by my rambling talk with Ben of BSC. I was telling him about some great memories from rock concerts and it reminded me of Ray. Ben gives good hugs. I like hugs. I could use a good Ben hug right now.)
I wanted to post something upbeat and funny, I even had it written out, but, alas, time for affirmations and a pep talk to myself.
Jeff has reared his ugly alcoholic blaming rude head again. No need to go into the details. Suffice to say, I’ve had it up to my eyebrows. I understand he’s going through a hard time but he deals with it by getting drunk and being an ass. I hate hearing his slurring hateful words.
I try to let them roll off my back, like water off a duck’s feathers. I’m only one woman though and I think Jeff takes advantage of that. I am but one woman. I keep telling myself that something is going to change soon and either he’ll see the light, I’ll gather my courage and what money I have and move, or I’ll meet some wonderful man who I will love with all my heart and who will love me and Nate with all his heart and we’ll get married. Maybe all three. The last two are much more preferable as I have lost faith that Jeff will ever climb out of his dark dungeon to see any kind of light.
I don’t want to let myself feel this way. I don’t want to let his words affect me or make me doubt myself. I don’t want to feel sad or angry. I don’t want to cringe when I see his number. I just don’t want any of that. I’ve tried to work through it, around it, behind it, in front of it, and I’ve prayed. I’ve prayed a lot to every God, Goddess, Cherubim, Seraphim, and other Archangels, to please help me. Help me have courage, strength, and understanding.
And they answer…
This morning I was listening to Black Stone Cherry on the way to drop Nate off at school. The song playing was one of my favorites, “When the Weight Comes Down.” A lyric from the song says, “I miss those Georgia peaches.” I’m going to Atlanta to see Black Stone Cherry at the end of the month. When I parked my car to walk Nate to the door the car in front me had Georgia license plates with a big peach on it.
I guess a lot of people would say that it was merely coincidence. Coincidence that my nickname is Peaches, coincidence that the lyrics have Georgia peaches in them, coincidence that I’m going to Georgia, and coincidence when I looked up and saw Georgia license plates in WV? Since I’ve had some trepidation about going to Georgia that weekend, my car acting up, potential money problems, where to stay… it’s not coincidence. Those things are called SIGNS. How can people live without looking for synchronicity? How can people have any hope at all when they attribute everything to coincidence instead of the hand of a higher power?
Isn’t it funny what we hold onto to get us through the tough times? I just keep reminding myself that in less than two weeks I’ll be in Atlanta, visiting Regan, seeing BSC again, and for that moment in time, everything will be fine. And when things aren’t fine, it will be something to make me smile and hope for better things.
(Kinda long, but worth it, IMHO)
I don’t drink when I go to concerts. Well, unless it’s a club setting, case in point, Regatta two weeks ago, but I keep it real and I normally sweat it out. If I travel further than 15 miles away, I don’t drink at all and I don’t miss it.
I have several reasons:
Personal Safety: I could not have survived the mosh pit at Skid Row/Pantera had I been drinking. Being unsteady on your feet just isn’t a good idea in a sea of people pushing and shoving. It’s normally hot, stuffy, and sweaty, even before the show starts, and given how hard I rock out, I’m soaked by the end of the show. Alcohol dehydrates you and you have to endure more trips to swamp juice toilets. No thanks.
Cops: ‘Nuff said.
Driving: ‘Nuff said.
Injuries: I witnessed a girl almost fall face first down the steps at the amphitheater because she was so drunk she couldn’t navigate properly. She ended up sitting beside of me, which I was grateful for. Remind me to tell the “sliding in puke” story. No, it wasn’t me who did the puking, nor the sliding.
But my NUMBER ONE reason is:
It Lowers Inhibitions: You do stupid stuff. I do enough stupid, crazy shit without drinking so why unleash the beast? The energy of a crowd pumps me up, the music vibrates through my blood. Why do I need anything else? Trust me, I don’t need a six pack to flash breast under the right circumstances.
And here’s why I’m so very grateful I don’t drink at concerts. Fall of 1989, Badlands, Tesla, and Great White were in a town near here and it was going to be my first show since my return from Germany (Beanie, do you remember?).
For some reason, I wore a pink tank top, easy to pick out in a sea of black t-shirts. The great vocalist Ray Gillen was there as lead singer of Badlands. (He also sang with Black Sabbath). He was all over the place that day, signing autographs, posing for pictures, chatting folks up. I’ve always said, “If you were there, you HAD to meet Ray.”
Very down to Earth, funny, sweet, no “rock star” persona, until he went behind the barricade. One of the roadies had a remote control car and he was playing with it and ran it over to where I was standing. There was a note on top that read – To the girl in the pink shirt – it pays to be different sometimes.
It was an invite backstage. An invite from Ray Gillen to go backstage. “NO” flashed in neon lights in front of my eyes. I was 18 years old but still very inexperienced, hell, still a virgin, and here was an opportunity to cut sexual teeth on Ray Gillen. (Please, it was the 80’s – do you think he wanted to play air hockey?). Even as inexperienced as I was, I recognized the look of a salivating wolf. Ray had a way about him. He was beautiful, he had an incredible voice, sexy, and I said, “No.”
Knowing myself as I do, rebellious by nature, sexual, and generally headstrong and independent, and eager to find out what sex was all about, had I been under the influence of alcohol, or even drugs for that matter, I believe I would have jumped over that barricade and ran damn straight into trouble.
Things happen when you’re drunk. You get talked into shit. Shit happens you may not be ready for, emotionally or physically. It has consequences.
In this case, Ray was a bit incredulous but also gracious and I still smile when I think of him.
Some of you probably know why I was so grateful that I didn’t go backstage. Why I heeded the warning. Why I was grateful I was STONE COLD SOBER.
Ray Gillen died of AIDS related complications December 3, 1993. There is no doubt in my mind that he was HIV positive in the Fall of 1989. The rumors of his infection started in 1990. No doubt folks, I have no doubt, I dodged a bullet by being sober.
After writing this, I still can’t figure out why I touch the stuff, because for all my good experiences when I was sooo glad I hadn’t drank, there are equally as many times I WISHED I hadn’t. I’ve dodged just as many bullets in that direction.
I’ll get off whatever soapbox I ended up on. Be safe.
I felt a recap of my weekend would not be complete without giving an update of the situation with AZ.
Well, remember when I wrote something to the affect that he’s contemplating marriage again and it being to someone else is not acceptable. I would like to rescind that, effective Friday at 5 p.m.
Life is not a movie. Big moments in time are actually rare. Drama does not play itself out in knockdown, drag out fights. Most of the time, it just wears away at you. And he wore me to the bone on Friday. In the big scheme of things, it was a blip on the radar screen. But, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and I was the camel.
Like I said, it wasn’t a dramatic moment, full of barbed words and hateful glances, but just the continuum of bullshit and misery that I can’t handle anymore. I did get my “wish” because my wish was to know, once and for all, whether or not he and I would ever be together as more than friends. That answer is no. It hurt at first and I spent a period of time bawling my eyes out at my computer. Then I fell asleep and the sun came up Saturday morning and I felt free, liberated, because I know I never have to wonder again. He’s not going to squat like a toad in my new relationships.
The next man I love, is going to have all of me. No more dark clouds following me around. I want to be with someone who has the ability to be happy and laugh. I want to be with someone who understands that life shits on you sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you start slinging it around.
Vince said something in an e-mail that made me think. Life can be miserable. Relationships are easier when life is grand but you had better pick the person that will stick with you through the misery.
My spirits are peaceful, not chattering, but standing back with knowing looks on their faces. No, they would never steer me wrong, and yes, sometimes they know what is best for me, even when I can’t see it. And check out this horoscope:
You’re about to be given the chance to embark on an extraordinary relationship. Be receptive to influences that shape your mind, body and soul, and make sure you can relinquish your need for control.
Sometimes we miss opportunities because of our prejudices against ourselves. We limit ourselves. I’m not limiting myself anymore.