tucson – nov 1
Halloween was successful. Sofie had done up the kids to make up for last year when we were hit with the news of her mom dying and had to fly back to denmark.
So this year no detailed was spared. Luka was a punk rocker. Sof did him up in a spiked necklace and metal riveted bracelet. She sewed a bunch of zippers on some stove pipe black pants too. Then she bleached the anarchy symbol on the back of a black t-shirt and wrote the clash on the front with ‘London calling’. She mohawked his hair and sprayed it blue. A touch of mascara under the eyes to top it off. He fell right into character like an actor, only I think it was an easy part for him to play. He then set to break dancing, punk rocker style.
Talula was a fairy princess. Sof dolled up her dress by sowing all kind of silk swirly things on it, added removable sheer wings, a magic wand that glistened, and an amazing hand made crown made out of golden metal wire and crystal jewels. It was a real royal crown.
I threw on a skull wall decoration I found at a club in san Francisco last year. Done.
We skirted the hood in a posse with brad denbore (thermos from doo rag) and his kids, done up as a gypsy and a Japanese cowboy. Both our littlest ones were born on the same day.
When the kids buckets got too heavy for them to carry, we spent the remainder of the evening over at patti’s mom’s house, which is the house rainer died in. this place has always been the spot we gather during the holidays. Big family hoo doo and tons of home made Mexican food.
That was that. Home then. Linda ray dropped off a sign to protest the arrest of the two folks that were trying to help a severely hurting father and son during their time of need trying to cross the desert from mexico last summer. Too many migrant workers die along the way since the desert this side of the border is way more treacherous and hotter then the one they are familiar with in mexico. It’s a constant heartbreak.
As we were cleaning up the house a bit, an interview came over the local community radio station (kxci). It was kurt Kirkwood talking up his new solo record. There are some weird things about the parallel existence of our two bands over the years. It mostly doesn’t figure or make any sense or real connection. I can’t even go into it. But it is there to even if I don’t know what to do with it. It’s like 2 different parallel worlds that can never really meet without disastrous ramifications. The clincher tonight was him talking about Montana. I have been making plans to retire there and open up a truck stop for wayward bands that travel that endless spans between seattle and minneapolis.
I found the location there in Livingston. And already have the name: TRIPLE 2 TRUCK STOP. A homage to the Tucson triple T truck stop, and to the fact that every phone number in Livingston begins with 222. A good omen, I think.
So there he was yammering about Montana.
There was a time when we almost got to be friends.
His brother has the same birth date as me. And I liked hanging with his brother chris when the chance was there.
Then there was the time we both released a record with a strikingly similar cartoon cover. That was weird. He drew his and I drew mine and they both had cartoon clouds.
They were released at the same time. And there was a phone call from kurt once, asking if I would be interested in playing guitar for the puppets.
That did not ever really play out though.
And I think Bettina was instrumental in getting them signed to a label she worked for called london. And now she has her own label I record for called thrill jockey. There’s other stuff too, but that’s the jist of it.
So that was Halloween. A little scary fun. A little ghostly.
And kind of haunted.
This morning I got the kids off to school. They had a candy hangover and were restless and rambunctious. I still needed to pack for my plane leaving in a few hours for more solo tour. got the kids to school late again.
This happens every day. I suck that way.
But it was good to have that extra time with them and its kinda cool to have it walking through school when the halls and playground are all empty and quiet.
It gives our conversations more of a memorable surreal tinge. I think we like that.
Then it’s time to head off to work.
Good work if you can find it, but the commute is hell.
Sof drove me to work and I always get to the airport late.
They always attempt to lecture me about being that late especially in these times. I can’t care about that. I can only fake caring if I have the energy. And they always manage to get me on the plane anyway, which is one of the reasons I live in a small town. To be late for the plane.
If I would add up all the hours that I would waste my life there waiting for a plane from getting to the airport early, I would just slit my wrists. Airports suck.
They are called terminal for good reason.
Tonight will be Chicago with john parish’s new band and doug mccombs’ opening solo set. I have not yet secured a hotel for me there either. Or spain tomorrow. Some things just fall through the cracks. Too much to manage with all the kids and family poking in to get me to do things.
So I am at odds. What should I really shoot for these days anyhow? I have no idea. I have no ambition.
I heard Kirkwood talking about the same thing on the radio, but it felt like he was lying to himself. Or at least wrestling with the notion of whatever this job description entails.
Maybe I am too.
Maybe I should track him down to have a talk. Maybe just about nothingness at least. Although when he was asked about what local tucson music he might be aware of, he just mentioned seeing calexico in Austin.
That was funny and haunting too.
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