Tag Archives: glen campbell

Monday. May 1, 2017

Journal

I have nothing but the entire world to gain. I have cried and i have laughed … and laughing is much better.

Saturday I spent cleaning the house, doing laundry and prepping for Monday’ upcoming show with Brandon Barber. I’m really interested to hear the story he’s bringing. Took a wold around my neighborhood and daydreamed by a lake, under a tree for an hour or so. Fought with myself for a long time about going out busking again, and I won the battle – rent is due, bills are due, most especially the lawyer’s fee … I went out because of the money, and I should have known better. I would still go, but I would have found a better reason. As it was, Saturday night turned into a disaster.

The was a woman who paused ‘just for a minute’ to watch the show. She was in her late fifties-ish and fairly conservative in her dress and demeanor. She enjoyed the show, but got frustrated with me not explaining to her how everything worked. She stuck around to watch a second time, and, after I was done and I was collecting money, she picked up the cards from the table to look at them more closely. Rude, but … it happens. Finding nothing, she insisted on looking at my sharpie, examining the table, everything she could think of. Finding nothing, she stood and watched for a third show, visibly frustrated, angry, and upset. She demanded that I confess to her the inner workings of the show. I tried to assuage her frustration by comparing my show to plays and movies: you don’t get to always see behind the scenes, but she wouldn’t have any of it. She wrote down my name and said she was going to have me ‘checked out’ so that she could read how I do what i do. I gave her the title of my DVD …

Saturday night was filled with hooligans. People were throwing cups from the upper ledges, and security was having a bit of a time. Lots of ‘leashed dates’: “I want to watch this guy!” “NO! We are late and you need to come ON. RIGHT NOW.” Gender played no part in this; I heard that same dialogue play from both directions.

I called it a night early when I felt it had just become futile. No one’s fault, really. Bad nights happen, but I left feeling terrible. Arrived home and showered, had a mug of tea and some green time, then felt a bit better. The bills will get paid, somehow.

Took a sleep in on Sunday. Made a bit of breakfast and read from Hogarth’s diary. Got a bit of writing and practice in and spent the evening watching the Glen Campbell biography “I’ll Be Me”. Glen (as I’ve noted before) is a hero of mine, and a favorite of my father’s. The film touched deeply on his illness (Alzheimer’s) and his ongoing relationship with his children, his wife, and his music. Touched me deeply. I miss my children, and this brought a lot of those feelings home in a painful way. Worth watching, for sure, but I wasn’t prepared. I sat up until the wee hours, writing in depth about the people I miss. Parents, family, best friends.

Now it’s Monday. In a few hours I’m going onstage. I have lots to talk about, and I hope for a decent turn out, especially for the venue and Brandon’s sake. There will be magic, no matter what. Watching the bio reinforced in me the crucial aspect of being vulnerable in my art, like a songwriter putting his heart in the air, so will I in these personal, public shows. i wonder how it will be received. It’s okay to do this.

A friend told me this morning that it’s okay to forgive myself. Even when people I’ve hurt try to amplify their pain and paint me as worse than i actually was, I can embrace the truth and love myself.  I am a good, decent man, and I think I’m proud of me.

What a concept.

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The Quiet at the End of the Day

Thanksgiving, 2014

My father loved the music of Glen Campbell. My father loved to laugh, but you can’t tell that in any of his pictures or in any of my stories … we never saw my path in the same light, and we grew slowly but inexorably apart as I traveled farther down it. I’m sorry, but that is a story for another time.

I smoked the turkey, as is the tradition. Lemons and spices and cinnamon (because: Cinnamon) and other such enhancements. The kids all came over. We danced a little, we sang a little. We were together. The new in-laws showed up for dinner, and the relations were fun and the mood was high. I hope my children remember this year fondly. i know I will. Even with all the mouths, we still had so much left over … but noting will go to waste.

Forgive me if this seems maudlin or sappy, but I’m very serene at this moment. We did it right, Dawn and I … we raised four smart, loving, giving children who are all walking their own paths fairly confidently. I’m grateful. I’m very thankful.

I had a very moving moment: Braiden and I played chess this afternoon. My father taught me and we used to play together, when we were still pals. For a moment I became him, and I looked at my son as me … and I was very proud. I’m not a bad guy. I spread my art as love, and I give all the love and help that I can, all that I know how to give.

I miss my Dad. I’d like for him to see how great these kids are. I’d like for them to hear his genuine laughter …

Let me say sincerely, because these leaking eyes are making it hard to type:

I hope there is Love where you are.

If there isn’t … I have so much left over … and nothing will go to waste.

h

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