Cry Baby Cry

 I wrote this in early May of this year, and I will be honest, I don't remember doing so. Maybe it’s possible I dictated it. But it’s also entirely possible that the memory file just got tossed. The human brain drowning in grief is a wonderfully & dreadfully powerful enigma. I’ve been trying to upload some of the notes of the last year, or few years, because I think some of them could certainly be helpful. The PTSD is rearing up and I think it will help me to purge these thoughts. Not that any great amount of you are reading this…enjoy the garbled gibberish of a deeply addled brain in great mourning. 

5/2022

We are not computers 

But sometimes it feels like we are. 

There are so often more many shades of gray as opposed to just something black and white which would be easier. And the path is really a fractal or a spiral, it’s not straight even when it is. And the consistence that we strive for, it goes against humanity because we are flawed and things don’t stay the same even when we try to keep the constant.

The way the brain protects you when you are grieving is remarkable but I can’t lie and say that it didn’t feel like I was being rebooted. In fact, I definitely feel like I was reduced to being a computer and the code was being deleted and adjusted and defragmented. You don’t get the option of finding specific files with specific memories or photos you can see in your head moments. That would be too easy.  But wouldn’t it be nice to be able to download what you recall into something tangible and external, not to remove it but just to have it somewhere specific and safe? 

The levels of shock that slowly fall away as you “heal”, it seems like there’s no end to them and that’s OK because you only realize how much your brain was protecting you after you’ve come through some of it and you see where you were, as opposed to where you are. So it’s hard to be aware of that, while you’re going through it especially if you are devastated like most of us are when something like this happens. There is some internal wisdom and great knowledge that is somehow unconscious and the brain handles much more than we could possibly be aware of. There’s so many unconscious/subconscious happenings, like the body still running like the machine that it is, and the brain minimizing access. It’s like there’s stuff I know I don’t remember, not necessarily from the past, but from the aftermath of Jon’s death and I don’t know if I want to remember it ever. I hope it doesn’t come back, it’s good that it’s faded away in time and protection. But that doesn’t make it any less weird or odd or feel like something’s missing when you realize there are blanks or things you just can’t recall; you cannot pull the recall even though you know it’s there and you know you were there.

Emotions and memories are messy and come with no discernible edges. Things weave in and out and connect in strange ways that are mainly intangible and you wouldn’t see the stitching because it’s very fine but there are no hard edges and that would make things easier sometimes. Like I say, if there were black and white to be discerned, it would make things easier and we could classify them as good or bad or here or gone or whatever… I don’t know if that makes sense. I just know that knowing that he’s gone versus feeling like he’s gone are two very distinct things and I was there when he left. He’s been gone since that moment. And this is ver nearly 4 years later and it doesn’t feel entirely real still. So I guess that’s an issue I have with acceptance. Having something like that play out right in front of you and I wasn’t entirely numb to what was happening around me, I was very lucid. For a great deal of the time. I couldn’t escape it.

 Things I used to use for escape didn’t work anymore, because I had been rebooted or endured a hard reset. Lots of computer analogies made sense to me in this aftermath, but I think that’s a little oversimplifying, because the human experience is so much messier and the edges are so blurred from one thing to the next as to never know one thing or another for sure. That sounds crazy but that’s what it feels like. There is so much you want to believe or have final, because you know you believe that they’re dead. And maybe it does feel like that to you. But there are so often a disconnect and it takes a longgggg time to connect. I understand cognitive dissonance now in the worst way because how could this be real? Even though I was there, even though I was the one that called for the ambulance, even though I was the one that sent him off to be helped. And I knew following behind them that it was a lost cause and he was already gone. 

It just doesn’t want to compute. 💔

Hey Jude

April 14. 2022

I spent far too much time in tears in the last few months. And not nearly enough time smoking or ingesting cannabis. The Venus in Pisces transit kicked my sad sorry ass all through my hormones before showing any mercy. I haven’t been that low in many months. I wonder if part of it is to do with being back at El Atico. I just named it that now, I wonder if it will stick? Big parts of me are making strides forward, parts of me are still in denial and parts of me need a rage room, no a rage habitat, environment. Let me fuck alllll this shit up without consequence.

I have trouble adjusting to the return home. The parts of me that are moving forward are dating a wonderful guy. He and the dog are the core reasons I still walk the earth with any sense of…sense. I am remarkably lucky. I did not foresee anything of this sort happening, nor did I entertain the possibility, so to have what we have found truly has reshaped my vision of the future. Not that I see one in particular, or ever did. Not sure if that is a brain flaw or part of the neurodivergence. There is only now. And ever more so since losing the Philly. You know the future doesn’t actually exist, right? It’s just a concept of the construct of time. We only have now when we’re in it. And I’m grateful there are other human types that can manage thinking about what’s to come, but literally none of it is promised. Ask any widow.

It’s fine to prep and save and store and all that. But when the world blows up in your goddamn face, all there is is you and the now. You attempt survival in service of the unforeseen future, but it is even less a solid concept in the wake of sudden death and explosive loss. Eat now. Sleep now. Drink water now. Pack boxes of your life away to put into storage or move somewhere equally inaccessible now. Cry so hard you piss yourself now. Oh look a week has gone by, you’re such a champ. Let’s do it again, ad nauseam… 

Surviving does not equal bravery. There are large stretches of time where you do the bare minimum to keep existing. Usually because you’re under some delusion of not wanting to put someone else what you’ve just gone through. Pfffft. Or because you are a caretaker of another living being, human or canine, etc.

I will readily admit I have envied those who have lost, and then their bodies or minds gave up too, shortly thereafter. Even with some of the amazing growth & changes I’ve since weathered, the passive dream to cease existing doesn’t really go away. And not even really because I think I’d end up in reunion with him somewhere on another plane, but because I’m fucking tired and there’s no end in sight. Lost him, lost my home, lost most mental freedom. Living an abbreviated lifestyle as a consequence of not having planned for the future which offers the absolute minimum in comfort. Then COVID arrives. So all forward momentum is thwarted and exponentially higher amounts of anxiety, anguish, languish and don’t forget, stress. Ultra mega survival mode.

And now expectation to rebuild on a more externally acceptable timeline. Everything inside me rages against this. Is it because it’s not time yet? Do I have a choice?

Is it because I’d prefer to decide for my damn self? Don’t have that luxury when you are all but dependent on the kindness and generosity of others. 

I swear my ‘inactivity’ has nothing to do with being lazy versus being rendered inert by trauma and lack of meds. Seeking the ADHD diagnosis to get meds after a lifetime of fighting my own brain. Grief and trauma has exacerbated all things problematic. Something’s got to give.

Baby's in Black

  well, it's been a million years since i posted anything here and it is honestly strange to be back but i'm bursting with words & emotions so i finally dug up the password. this poor old blog is still linked on my twitter and heaven knows where else. it's a shame it fell out of favor.  2014 was a long time ago and at this point, certainly a lifetime now. 

i don't know if i am the claytripper anymore. despite the social media, the cleverness, and that i do still play with clay. i am simply not the same person. i have walked through a fucking volcano and you better believe that shit changes every bit of you. grief is unbelievably unpredictable. grief and mourning and bereavement and grappling against any iota of survival instinct have warped me into the beast you see before you. the tricky thing here is that i might look just the way you expect. but every cell and atom that comprised me has been altered. marked by trauma. the reality of the loss still eludes me. it's not allowed to be a static fact. it ebbs and flows and that has been the truth for the last 3 years, 2 months and 12 days. 

i am not the same. i lost a fair amount of weight just from forgetting to eat. i never stopped eating but i did eat much less when i did. i lived on those protein shakes from costco. none of my clothes fit and neither did my rings. i have gained some of the weight back but my body has changed, and my rings still don't fit. i eat ok and was always good with keeping hydrated. crying for hours on end, day and night like a ghost made of flesh will deplete you of salt, water and energy. the shock your body sustains in the wake of losing your best friend and loving spouse is indescribable. you truly feel hit by a truck, and if you're anything like me, you both fear and pray for it to hit you. the physicality of the grieving process really surprised me. its fucking exhausting.  my body chemistry was so changed that i couldn't even smoke my beloved weed for comfort or peace. it just made me feel sick and anxious which goes against the nature of the agreement we'd always had. weed was medicine. weed was home. weed was philly. and nothing was the same now that he's gone.

even after i was able to make attempts at restarting the habit, the comfort in the cushion of cannabis was short-lived. it felt so good and so normal to be feeling tickly and giggly but usually that equated to a world where philly existed. so, to live in the reality was to torment oneself. the peace was an illusion. the safety, also an illusion. 

so, the welcome back to the blog is basically me just imparting the various levels of pain one suffers at the sudden loss of a spouse. i haven't even scratched the surface. but its late and the dog is sighing with impatience. 

Two of Us

Salim & Rhett at City Winery Chicago -- the #RhettsAllRequestSet

25 November 2014

Where do I even start with this crazy story? Generous friends hooked up tickets and off we go. I made it there in plenty of time, waited for my friends, saw other friends on top of that, MADE friends on top of THAT.

Salim has been big on the boombox this tour. I wasn't aware of all the hard work it was doing. Salim played backing vocals & backing track on cassette via boombox mic'd onstage. It sounded like a full band! It was better than rock 'n roll, it was ART. Pure performance art. Cool effects microphone, his interaction with the front row, his general entertaining demeanor, such a wonderful package wrapped up in a vintage suit. The producer was on display as a performer and it was magic. Salim is a force unto himself and it's never better than when you see someone having as much fun on stage as you're having in your seat.

Rhett Miller has fun on stage. Everyone knows this. Tonight he grappled with his control issues and his OCD tendencies and let the crowd pick the set list. He left a request tube to be filled with our choices, filtered by himself, and presented with aplomb on stage. He acknowledged how difficult it was not having a prepared set list. To make himself feel better he wrote it down as he went even being nudged by the audience to do so. I think he still might have forgotten some too. But this is what happens when you're making live art. He was in high spirits, very jokey and chatty. He was drinking "Irish wine". This seemed to help things LOL

I requested Guadalajara as I didn't get to hear it over the summer on tour. I requested anything Beatles or anything with Salim as well, and put in an any Replacements request for my friend. I was rewarded with two of those, he played Guadalajara mentioned it requested by me and then also later sang In My Life and Girl by the Beatles. He was in full charm mode and it was a beautiful thing. We are all better people today for having been there last night. I'm still working on cobbling the proper set list together but it was fabulous and I'm so grateful I was able to be there.

Here, There and Everywhere

Most Messed Up Tour Bloomington IL 19 June 2014
Castle Theatre

originally intended to be published 28 June 2014 

and then again on 19 September 2014

maybe today is the day....

The latest tale from the front row brings us to Bloomington IL and the low, low stage of the Castle Theater. Another adventure happening with less of the normal crew. Strange and direct effects of the Mercury retrograde, say what you will. I believe in cards and I believe in signs ;)

(For the unschooled, a Mercury retrograde is expected to gum up the works regarding travel and communication. It usually lasts about a month long and it is generally recommended that precautions are taken for allotting enough time, for backing up/saving computer work, and for keeping up with the car maintenance.)

PLUS, I was actually *missing* the Chicago gig. What apocalyptic symbols were these? So far, we have seemingly survived the aftermath of such.

This time around I borrowed a camera to shoot pics, thanks PW. The Camry's oil was changed, the traffic and even the construction was compliant. Despite some serious humidity, and a late night storm, the weather was also cooperative. My newlywed cousin was ready for another adventure and I was more than willing to enable! We feasted on a delicious summer chicken salad, recipe courtesy of our dear aunt Patsy and then we were ready! We had been invited to a pre-party right near the venue and that was the plan. Our drive was without incident and we even parked in the same spot as last year, (right out front) and proceeded to walk to the party.
Here's where the real fun starts. hahaha Mercury indeed.

I quickly determined which direction we needed to go and the house was roughly a mile away. No biggie, even in the stickiness, the sun was setting and we agreed a walk would be lovely. Well, it got a bit warm walking, and the extra humidity caused my otherwise, comfy, well worn shoes to rub through the backs of my ankles. *sigh*
Truly, I don't normally have number issues, but I jumbled the address. We walked til I thought we would find it, and when we didn't, I surmised I had chosen to go down the street in the wrong direction. (I hadn't.) We turned around about a block short of our actual destination. Some texting occurred and I put in an order for some band-aids, and a ride was generously offered to come grab us. We continued towards the venue and then some weird stranger dude who was NOT our ride, honked and offered to pick us up. ummm no thanks bro. no. thanks. We did not happen to coincide with our ride, but it was fine.

Not too long after that, we made it back to line up. Two separate sets of good ol' boys in trucks heckled the line as they drove by. Hollering some kind of nonsense about the Grateful Dead...Ignorance is bliss, I guess.
So we got our butts in there once they opened the doors and greeted Jeff, the merchiest of all the merch guys who was holding court amongst his well-displayed wares. All those early fogeys ran to all the bar stools while we just trotted up to the front, Kenside.
The friends from the pre-party brought hugs with the band-aids and saved my ankles and my damn life!! Sweet protective relief.

The lights dimmed and the support band took the stage. Madison King was a worthy opener and really brought her 'A' game, band included. 

Rhett joined her on backup at one point and for a band's first tour, I think they did alright.

I was so excited to see them perform the new stuff, on top of everything else. This should come as a surprise to no one that knows me.

This ol' stage at the Castle is barely 3 foot from the ground. The front row area is wayyyy more intimate than what I would call 'normal'. It makes for a great show. And even better photos, with no monitors in the way! By the time they hit the stage, the a/c was all used up. But it was OK. We got ROCKED. Some clown started hollering for Timebomb about three or four songs in. I explained to my cousin that they were either just being assholes, OR they were newb enough not to know that it's a closing song. Pretty much almost always always. Lameness, either way, and they thankfully did not persist in it. Rhett's shirt turned the requisite 5 shades darker and strangely enough, despite his intensity, not a guitar string to be lost. Ken brought an amazing array of guitars and switched it up rather frequently. The new songs were great, of course. But that was obvious upon first listen to the album. I was flooded with dopamine throughout, it was a fine show. Ken was everywhere with every color, Rhett was simply glowing. Philip kept time with the beat of my heart and Murry tied it up all fine with a purty bass line. Near the end of things Madison came back out to join them for 4 Leaf Clover. During Most Messed Up some strange woman that tried to crash our group earlier in the evening, jumped or rather lunged onstage and did her little drunken freedom dance until she was ushered off. That doesn't happen often, it was pretty funny to be honest. We were like three songs from the end of the show, they didn't even bother throwing her out. Then all too soon it is Timebomb, oh my lord it is never enough. And it's raining cats and dogs outside. The staff was laid back enough to let people chill a bit before forcing them out into the lobby and to the outside conditions. Marie and I took our leave and sprinted through the storm to get on the road. It was a fairly serious thunderstorm and normally I'd be craving tranquilizers to cope. But I was riding the adrenaline wave and told Marie to fasten up and I asked her if I could just turn up the music and drive. I had to focus entirely on my driving and she had no argument with that. So I karaoked our asses back to Champaign with nary a moment of hydroplaning. There was an awestriking view of the storm all around us, racing through the farmlands, trying not to get caught behind any other vehicle because the resulting spray was blinding. Lightning streaked sideways and every other way and lit the horizon in daylight. dude.

It had been a warm and humid enough day that I welcomed the cool drops on me as we walked up to the apartment. Marie's newlywed husband had made this amazing Spanish tortilla dish and I was in bliss all over again LOL Our adventure over, we parted ways in the morning. I took a quick drive around campus to view the changes over time. I hadn't been down there since the mid '90's. I was still able to find my way, but things were indeed very different. After a gas up and snack up, I proceeded quickly home to avoid the Friday afternoon log jam. Perfect timing.

Helter Skelter

Normally I would wait til AFTER a show to write a post, but it's been so long, I figured it didn't matter.
Plus, there's a new album out, and I have been enjoying it for approximately 58 days. It is the first thing I play IN ITS ENTIRETY before playing any other music options.
The title is 'Most Messed Up' and that is pretty much the theme for all of the songs.

Overindulgence, living the road life, mid-life issues maybe only a rock star knows, trying to keep it real and possibly failing...complicated human entanglings. A juicy, F-bomb laden, rambunctious journey through Rhett's less restrained, and perhaps somewhat evil alter-ego. Parental advisory! Explicit language! Drinking & cussing!
Others are calling it a return to form. I am not sure I would say that. Go on call me biased, its not like I am obsessed or anything. (I prefer the term 'highly focused'.)
I say that because I don't think their overall sound has strayed terribly far from the early work; that is to say, something from the first album is not going to be unrecognizable as their own. I will say that their sound has smoothed into something more pop than not, I guess. And this album as a whole was crafted with a thematic concept in mind, which I don't think was consciously attempted thus far.

The standout track for me is 'Guadalajara', a jangly, surf guitar party song about a holiday liaison. Rhett has mastered the skill of telling a sad story (about a girl who gets the guy for an overnighter and that's IT, 'cause he's outta there) while simultaneously compelling us to sing/dance joyfully as it happens. Ken's electric howls over the beginning and bridge, making for excellent ringtones. Mwahahahaaaaa, technology!
I can't wait to physically hold this album.
Another finely produced collection courtesy of Salim Nourallah, the alchemist behind the board.
I thank you again, gentlemen.
I will see you in the front row, she's coming down fast! Yes, she is. Yes. She is.

The album is still streaming here, take advantage!
https://soundcloud.com/ato_records/sets/old-97s-most-messed-up


P.S.
I am almost done with my granny square afghan!!!!!!!!!!!

You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)

So what's in a name anyway?

It took a long, long, long time before I finally picked the name and theme for this blog. I wanted it to be clay appropriate, yet also belie my great love of music, and more specifically, Beatles music. 

Did you realize it's play on Day Tripper? Ok how about now?-->

daytripper

claytripper

Actually, if you squint, it becomes more clear. hehehe

It's a typography play on words. 

It's also an apt description for my working style. I have done the reading and research. But I prefer to fumble through, and make my own discoveries. Hence the tripping. 

I'm quite proud of the name, to be honest. 

I Don't Want To Spoil The Party

Old 97's - Metro Chicago - 13 November 2013 the end of an era and the start of another...

2 JAN 2014 

I don't really do resolutions, but I made a new year's RULE to create something everyday. This is today's contribution. 

I have put off relaying this particular story due to various circumstances, but my low grade OCD will not let me get away with not covering such a momentous adventure. Also, the tablet, while so very convenient in so many ways, just can't match the feeling of typing on the keyboard.

This was indeed an adventure in the making. Over the course of the newly past year or so, I made a slew of fan friends via the internet. There were discussions and longing for the right time to converge upon the front row as a group. I'd missed an opportunity earlier in the year to road trip and connect with these particular ladies. This time, it was destined! A Chicago show with new elbows to rub up front. How much I was looking forward to this!

And then my dear Granny passed away 5 days before the show. Huge Bummer of all Bummers. We had had a renewed closeness over the recent year, as I'd taken on being her companion and driver for medical appointments. Being her first grandchild, and a kindred spirit to boot, the loss took its toll for sure. It sucked for innumerable reasons, the most relevant being that she knew how much I looked forward to my music events. During our visits, she was always content to sit and listen to my rock & roll tales, complete with iPad pics or videos to illustrate the point. I looked forward to telling her most of all, so I saved stories up for our times together. She was a rapt audience and took great pleasure in my unfiltered storytelling. And by unfiltered, I do mean the vernacular or even the profane, if the word suited. And I took greater pleasure in her enjoyment or questions. We were cool like that. She was always a social creature and back in the day, she enjoyed kicking up her feet and tossing back a drink or two. Plus, in this family, we love our music.

Granny circa 1940's

15 JAN 2014

We buried her 2 days before this show. I'd already missed the Wisconsin show and the chance to see my friends from up there. Things were still a 'go' for the Metro, but wow, I can tell you here, I was less than enthusiastic about having to make a public appearance. To have my most favorite event in life, marred by that which makes life valuable, was a bitter pill to swallow. 

19 JAN 2014

It's her birthday today; I'm quietly celebrating by doing things she liked to do. Law & Order SVU, crossword puzzles, snuggling my dog, sneaking small chocolates...

The only thing that would have kept me from attending, would have been having her services coincide with the date. But we had wrapped it all up and while I knew I was still a bit too raw, this was an evening not to be missed. I could almost hear Granny's bluster about not daring to take the blame for me missing a show!

I think what was most disappointing for me at this point, was that these people didn't really get to meet the "Me" that I had anticipated being. I don't think I was outwardly mournful, but I know there was a cloud over my head til about halfway through the show. 

okokok

But, man, is it cool meeting people for the first time. We all probably had at least a good year of interaction via Facebook, so we were all pretty much up to speed on each other's lives. When the girls arrived to pick me up, it was like 'old' times hahha! Well, that was just Wende, I was already familiar with sweet Sheri and Tracy. Downtown, at a small hotel, we would be connecting with Leslie, Bert, Marie and a plethora of others who were all fun-loving, mouthy types. It would appear that we would all get along just fine. A bit of pre-partying at the hotel, led to taxicabbing it just over to Metro, where we passed the dinner hour at some bar whose clever name I cannot recall, but it was literally next to the venue. Suzanne (and her friend Mark?) also showed up, so that was a happy reunion :) 

Once I'd ingested enough pre-show sustenance, (which I always find extremely difficult!) I decided to go out and get in line with some of the girls. I saw Bill! That's when Jenna joined up. We passed the time bitching about the recent drop in temperature, what new songs we might get to hear and we even saw Ken and Jeff head back and forth from the Wrigleyville Dogs. 

Then it was TIME. 

We got in and staked the appropriate claims, we stretched out far and wide. Metro seemed smaller than I remembered, which I found strange. It was awesome. Trapper Schoepp and the Shades opened up the evening, and they rocked righteously! People reunited even further with other show friends and what a joy that always is.

24 MARCH 2014

Boy, it's taking me awhile to get this out. I just haven't had any storytelling motivation. Not that I do now, as much as guilt over not covering the occasion, AND it has been on my mind all week. 

SO...

Trapper Schoepp is highly entertaining. The band is tight and the music rocks. He is cute and sweet in person.

I took a sweeping look across the club, and it was like a moment in slo-mo. People, all revved up and applauding. People, sipping and/or swigging drinks. People, gathering closer for the headliners.

My friends, newly made or otherwise, bouncing in anticipation. Me, watching it all from some odd perspective that I was longing to shed. I belonged *here* tonight, why couldn't I just feel like it?

Soon that blah was washed away when the boys trotted out and got things started with 504. As usual, they were on point, crashing and bashing, everyone was screaming and singing. I got my required goosebumps. They played a couple of the new songs and threw in Over the Cliff, a fan favorite with ties to the area ;)

Wende expressed particular glee over hearing this one, and gosh we are spoiled having Jon Langford as a local, we hear that song often. It was the last show of the tour and it ended with a bang. The out of towner's seemed euphoric, job well done.

We tried to commiserate post-show, and we did get an outdoor, all the girls with Murry shot. But then we got scattered and the girl group regrouped elsewhere, hotel, food, etc. Once everyone left, I ran into yet another friend leaving the scene and he gave me his backstage pass. So I ran back in, I had a quick chat here and there, and also got a photo op with Alex Dezen from the Damnwells, who was hiding in plain sight. I may or may not have shaken hands and been introduced to Mr. Langford. hahhaha!

Alex and myself

Then I went back to the pub from earlier in the evening after I called for my ride. I was taking a car from the livery job I'd just quit. The lovely lady on dispatch had been waiting for my call and was sending my friend Tony T.  Sweet. I ordered a cider and figured he wouldn't be more than 30 minutes. Which was pretty much all the time I had to drink this drink and wait outside because the bar closed at 1AM??!! 

Thankfully, Tony was right on the money and he got a chatty earful because I literally had to down that  pint! I had given him full disclosure, though, and he was a sport and dutiful listener. 

We all got home safe and another fine adventure was on the books.

There's a new album afoot, and it's about a month away from release. Chicago and Milwaukee gig dates were just announced, so my heart is skipping beats on the regular! It is almost time to do my thing! 

Til then-----