Last week’s foray into the subject of loss, and the inescapable helplessness that accompanies attempting to save the ones we love, left me on the dark blue side of the very "mean reds”
So . . . as a firm believer that sometimes we’ve just got to feel what we’ve got to feel, I popped some popcorn and lined up the usual suspects: A River Runs Through It, The Way We Were, Cinema Paradiso, Lonesome Dove, you get the drift. And then somewhere between:
“Each one of us here today will at one time in our lives
look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question:
We are willing help, Lord, but what, if anything, is needed?
For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us.
Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give
or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.”
Norman Maclean
And
“He's right, boys. The best thing you can do with death is ride off from it.”
I began to shake them right on off. Then, on Thursday, Doctor Turvy brought me spicy something-or-other rolls (you had me at spicy) and Eel (my favorite) right to my doorstep, proclaimed that I looked like a “hot piece of Ash” in my Sock Monkey Onesie (too presh!) and suggested that (1) I get out of the house and that (2) play rehearsal didn’t count. And I’m not one to argue with a medical professional . . . especially one who makes house calls and writes scripts for sushi.
T-Bird and the Breaks with Brooke was so much fun that I found myself sleeping late enough to eat “breakfast” at Waffle House well past noon on Saturday and vowing to have a word with the Good Doctor about how I would be staying in for the rest of the weekend. Luckily, a little bird in the form of a Tweet-Tweet from Casey Stribling reminded me that I had already planned on an “After Midnight” evening.
Where oh where shall I begin? Well - for one – Mr. Robert Stribling is a fashion ICON. Period. Steve Solomon was a better Elvis than any one of the 200+ Professional Impersonators I once “Shake, Rattle & Roll”ed with in an Albuquerque Bar on a most infamous Cross-Country Road Trip. The only stunt that could have topped Walkers and Hospital Gowns involves Exotic Dancer Denim. And, yes, Jim Dear can absolutely run with the Big Dogs.
And if “nobody does it better” doesn’t hit the nail on the head then I don’t know what. THE Toast goes to you, Nan! To your unmistakable voice, to your effervescent stage presence, to your ability to put us all to shame in the Barbie Doll (figure) Aisle, and to the tears in my eyes when Peter walked out on stage. In my opinion, YOU are the best!
Sunday? Well of COURSE I didn’t stay home on Sunday. Doctors orders. Get. Out. Of the house. I spent Sunday at Josh and Leigh Loyd’s with my "T-Heart" (Baby Tinsley), eating homemade Chicken Pot Pie and watching The Saints win The Super Bowl. I watched a lot of Saints football when I lived in New Orleans, listening to Archie Manning call every game. And I washed many a post-game Lucky Dog down with Purple Haze. So my heart’s pitter patter went full steam ahead when I realized they were finally going to do it!!! That being said . . . even I couldn’t help but snort when I read this headline:
The Nation’s Capitol Gets Huge Snowstorm & New Orleans Wins NFL Championship:
aS
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