Mom's Birthday Wish

Like so many of my favorite things all year, my Mom's birthday is in October and she asked for a song dedication. I couldn't think of a more lovely thing to wish for but it did catch me off guard.

I've been busy this year and haven't been writing much. Blog posts are very spontaneous for me and are usually written in just a few minutes when inspiration hits. Typically, a request like this wouldn't be possible on the fly. Luckily, there is not another person in the world that is more inspirational than that woman.

We do this without trying.
All the time.

My awe is visceral. She's amazing as a mom, to be sure. We also appear to share the same brain. We regularly say/do/buy/point at the same things with near spooky similarity and timing. It is such a blessing to have a thoughtful, personally-invested, like-minded sounding board that I can speak to with utmost honesty. She is the best best friend a person could have.

She effortlessly charms everyone who she comes across. I see it when she visits me in Texas. She is a fan favorite with all my friends and everyone, even some strangers, look forward to her visits. When I go home to Nebraska it is clear that no one has more fun. My friends from former homes continue to stay in touch with her. She's a wild one, without question.

And she's hot. I mean, really. Like gorgeous. Like MILF to nearly every person I know, young and old. The magnetism of this person is incredible. We are all helpless against it. And, it isn't just her physical beauty that makes her irresistible to all. She has a way. A vibe. An aura. If you know her, you know it.

Happy birthday Mom! A little thrown together and not very eloquent, but so, so true. I hope you like your birthday song!

Not Enough Lifetimes

As my favorite month comes to a close, I have the usual feeling of dread. October has it all. Beauty, weather, music, pumpkin. My birthday has now come and gone. The rein of the indulgent Libra is ending. I'm not ready.

I found myself in a cab the other night, wickedly cursing 2am as if it had just kicked my dog. I didn't want it to end.

Years ago, when my Grandpa was sick, I laid my head on him and he touched my hair. My plane was leaving that afternoon. We both knew I wouldn't see him again. I wanted more time.

My Mom kept pointing out babies in headphones at the legendary Austin City Limits Music Festival. "You'd have such a cool kid," she kept saying. And I would, undoubtedly. "Don't miss out," she warned. Roger that. But that means I wouldn't get to be what I am now. I wouldn't get to do what I do now.

I could have been a dancer or a lawyer or a fashion designer. I could live in Spain. Spain sounds lovely. But, then I wouldn't be here, now.

I have come to the conclusion that there are just not enough lifetimes in this lifetime. There are so many things to do, so much beauty and fun. There are so many people. Listing the things I've done seems impressive at times, but lately it seems to just scratch the surface. Is this what getting older feels like?

If there could just be a few more, a little longer, another at least. Then I could get it all done.

Instructions for ACLife

Originally written for the Fall 2014 Austin Locale ACL Edition.

What’s the best way to survive Austin City Limits Music Festival? Everyone has a recommended list of groceries to haul around, a survival kit of sorts. It always contains a sampling from the shelves of CVS spanning all manners of hygiene, first aide, feminine products, and skin care. I agree with all these lists, though aside from baby wipes you probably won't use any of it.

Here’s the truth of the matter:  ACL, like life, depends more on what you do than what you bring. You will require a plan. Let’s begin.

First, assemble your team. You're going to need good people, the kind you can trust with your cash, your liquor stash, and your ride home. These folks must be musically coherent, obviously, but more importantly must have impeccable resilience, stamina, and good sense. You don't want to end up babysitting a weeping drunk or sitting outside the EMT tent twiddling your thumbs. Sharing memories with your BFFs is lovely, however, ain't nobody got time for divas, jerks, or wimps. Select only those you know you’ll still like on Monday morning.

Next up, logistics. Determine a meeting place outside the festival grounds (at least 1/4 mile or more). Use the time walking to Zilker Park to compare schedules, hydrate (intoxicate), and get to know each other. As the festival engulfs you in a loving embrace, you may find this is the last time you are able to meaningfully connect with these folks all day so use your walk wisely.

Also determine where to meet after the festival. I suggest the same place you left off to keep everything straight amid the dizzying mixture of THC, alcohol, people, and darkness. Make sure out-of-towners write down the address on paper. Your phone will be long dead by then so you'll have to rely on others, possibly even law enforcement, to find your way so be prepared.

We're getting close now. I can almost feel it. Eat something substantial before heading out into the bright, hot, musical sunshine; this is not the time to jump on the kale bandwagon. Slather on that SPF and chug a coconut water. If you have a living will, make sure your mom knows where it is.

Ducks in a row? Ok. Grab a map and off you go! It is nice (and safer) to have a comrade but there is no need to cling to the same ship all day. You're no barnacle. You're an insatiable, fearless music pirate out to claim your booty while swilling the whiskey you snuck in. Let music be your compass.

Devour your 3 days like you did the latest season of Orange is the New Black, entirely and unabashedly. Put your palms up and let the vibrations fuel you if you feel tired. Don't treat your fellow music devotees with disrespect. Stand awestruck at the talent that exists.  Blow a kiss to the skyline of our pretty city. Make new friends. Follow your plan loosely...you never know what luck you may have or magic you may uncover. 

At the end, however near death, if you feel euphoric, exhausted, and ready to buy your early-bird ticket for next year, you did it right. It isn’t what you had. It isn’t what you forgot or lost. It was what you did that made it good. And, much like in life, it was what you did that you’ll remember.

Check out those seat covers. Roger That.

ACL is Austin's best binge, in my opinion. This year was highly anticipated and didn't disappoint, though my toxin levels are severely in the red. It was particularly noteworthy because I now live in Zilker Park, about .25 mile from the festivities. My condo was turned into a rowdy, loud squatter camp for boozers, dancers, travelers from afar, and the hungry. It was brilliant!

Communication at the festival is notoriously a problem but it also adds a creative challenge to the mix that can be wildly fun to solve, should you be so inclined. When you're crammed into a downtown city park with 130 bands, 8 different stages, and over 70,000 drunken, chemically-altered concert goers, you can forget about using your cell phone or checking in on Facebook. This year we tried walkie talkies...not because they work better than T-Mobile or help you find your lost friends but because talking on them is hilarious and having one is your hand is cool as shit. Some rules of engagement:

Fab shades

• Say "Roger that" after everything said into a walkie talkie. You can say "Roger that niner over and out cuuuuuusch" as well for added effect. 
• Come up with your own group language so that outsiders don't know what the hell you're talking about. Bonus points if truck drivers can decode your made up language. 
• Make friends with everyone else on your channel and respond to them with far out nonsense that makes them laugh. 
• Don't give both walkie talkies to one person.

Nom Nom Nom

Additional lessons include:

• Don't pee during the month of October. This frees up lots of additional time in front of stages. 
• Make your own ACL Bingo game. Include things like a Texas flag tattoo, a baby in headphones, and someone not wearing pants. Here's mine.
• Drunk people write the funniest stuff if you give them markers and large, washable pallets. 
• If there is any threat of rain, wear white. You will be given a free poncho by a handsome, kind boy and make lots of new friends.
• Avoid the lines at the food trucks and have food delivered to your tarp by those in need of karmic re-up.
• Rusty will find you. Even in a mosh pit. Even in the dark. He is a ninja.
• Sneak in whiskey.  
• See Jack White.
• Drown out the complaints of boring neighbors by turning the music up louder.

With the help of an epic band of gypsies, this was the best ACL (quite possibly the best music festival) yet! Next year, ACL is throwing my birthday party so expect more of the same. Music is fuel (and so is Rumchata)!!

Not the same ACL without him

Almost a year ago, I lost the friend that told me to never take Advil for a hangover, especially during the 72-hour ACL binge. To do so was "sending my liver into a gun fight with a knife." I lost a friend that, even though I knew him only briefly, was one of the most precious of my new Austin friends.

I still think about him every day without fail and wonder what things would have been like had he been around to offer direction. Things, I believe, would have been so very different.

After Travis died, I was never able to console my now ex-boyfriend, Travis' best friend, who was devastated by the loss. In turn, he offered me no comfort either. I was told I was a failure because I could not take the pain away. Bringing him back was the only solution, a task I was indeed quite incapable of performing.

A failure, however, I am not. I try, just like everyone, my hardest. I miss him, just like everyone...with an intensity that is unspeakable, with a sadness in which I dare not even indulge.

If I could have lessened the pain for my man, my friends, Travis' family, the state of Texas, the universe, believe me, I would have. But that isn't how these things work. We all take a piece of the pain and carry it whether we are strong enough for the extra load or not. That is the burden you accept when you love someone like we all loved Travis. Like all things we love, to have them taken is a risk we must be prepared for, a weight we must be ready to bare without warning.

And so I try to carry my grief with gratitude. I don't always do it gracefully. I don't always do it right. But I do it, always. Because like I said a year ago, there is no greater thanks for the sadness I feel because I'm one of the lucky ones that gets to miss him.

I miss you, my dear friend. ACL won't sound the same without you. I wish you could be there to sing along to Avett Brothers with me. But, I have my tarp ready and I've chosen Jack White instead of that old guy. I know you'll be listening. 

Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Avett Brothers

Kind of like being hit by a bus...only way more awesome

In honor of the 10th anniversary of the legendary Austin City Limits Music Festival (and because my lust for music is rapid and insatiable), I couldn't resist expressing some gratitude. Also, I can hardly sit still with all the excitement for my 3rd festival. Work is an irritating distraction.

My appetite for music is hereditary, given to me by equal parts crazy rockin' mama and dance floor karaoke extraordinaire pops. I cannot imagine a time in my life music wasn't playing. Even as an infant I was lulled to sleep by Aerosmith and George Straight. My new life in Austin has indulged my craving for tunes and I may be forever hooked on the unending, unspeakably amazing music that passes through this town.

I was talking to a friend and fellow music lover about those moments watching live music where one is simply stunned into blissful silence, unable to move, talk, or hear anything but the music. Afterward, that moment is permanently and vividly tattooed into memory. The song's meaning is forever changed and you cannot listen to it without being transported back. You're the same age, doing the same thing with the same people in an instant when you hear that song.

I was thrilled to know someone else had those moments and I was even more tickled that some of those moments AK and I had had together. Not necessarily together together. But, at the same time on our own at the same shows. These are private moments, you see. But it is wonderful to know that the person standing next to you at the concert had felt the same. I was almost getting choked up talking about it. I strongly recommend these brief jolts of harmony to everyone...if you haven't had one, you haven't lived.

Also, when I thought about it, a number of mine have indeed happened at the ACL Festival. I don't always even LOVE the song, but feeling was powerful. Here are some of my favorites (actual recordings from ACL):

Everybody Knows, John Legend, 2009 (This was worth not finding my friends again for the rest of the day.)


Paris, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, 2010 (she had people in line at 11am wondering where the hell she had been their whole life)


Sweet Disposition, The Temper Trap, 2010 (this song drifted beautifully across the whole park...everyone stopped to listen even if you'd never heard the song before)


Home, Edward Sharpe, 2010 (i pretty much stood in stunned silence this whole show but this song was one of the best...tied with 40 Day Dream)


Uprising, Muse, 2010 (his guitar playing was ethereal)


And Phoenix. And Kings of Leon. And Andrew Bird. And Ryan Bingham, Bassnectar, Carolyn Wonderland... And that's only 2 year's worth.