So I sit here listening to Great Big Sea's "Come & I Will Sing You". The band claimed it's not a Christmas song, since there's many similar counting songs from many Euro cultures that aren't tied to the Winter holidays, but it's hard to separate such songs from Christmas, thanks to the ubiquitous "12 Days". … Continue reading On Gifts, Music, & The Season
So this Christmas, I'm learning exactly what I mean to my family. Absolutely nothing. Last year, there were no calls, no invites, nothing, not for Thanksgiving, Christmas, nor for New Years. Normally they at least call; normally the call is asking if we're coming down, what our plans are. Last year, I'd sent my usual … Continue reading Merry Fuckin’ Christmas.
So. There's been no calls from my parents or sisters at all for Thanksgiving: no invitations to come down, no calls to say "Happy whatever" -- in the past, they've usually been the ones to call, since they get free long distance via their cells phones. It's their house, their meal, they issue the invites. … Continue reading Yet more abusive fuckery
(another letter from the same "family vacation" as the last post). Aug 2, 1997, Dear Husband: So yesterday Dad drove us out to Newfound Gap, a big tourist spot because -- I kid you not -- of a border sign in the parking lot that says "Tennessee" on one side and "North Carolina" on the … Continue reading Smoky Mountain Memories Pt 2
Finding the courage to write these has been terrifying. I find myself backing away, minimizing the hurt & the damage, the "oh it wasn't that bad" inner voice. But I must. The memories are splinters embedded in my heart for years; they're infected, painful to touch, agony to try to pull out. Maybe it's best … Continue reading Doing the Pagan Weddin’ Rag…
Fall, 1977. I was in 6th grade. And I was a failure. I've had a long-running fascination with art & music, from a very early age. Music runs in the family; my great-aunt (Dad's aunt, his mom's sister) was a Carmelite nun & the organist/choir-director for our church. When I say "organist", I'm talking one … Continue reading A Failure at 5 and 11
When I was in kindergarten (1972), towards the end of the school year, my parents got us a puppy. I was 5, almost 6. My brother was 4. My baby sisters were toddlers, 1 and 2 years old. The only pets in the house before this was a fish tank, that we were forbidden to … Continue reading Snoopy