Hey That’s No Way to Say Goodbye

Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know?! Hadn’t someone told her? Wasn’t it obvious?

It’s really hard to get your thoughts in order when you’re choking on raisin toast and your mother’s condemnation. Continue Reading »

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Head On

Round two came after I was properly dressed–by rock musician standards, I mean–and the scent of coffee from downstairs became too strong to resist. It was chilly, so I put my leather jacket on over my flannel shirt.

“I’ll go first,” Ziggy suggested.
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You Woke Up My Neighborhood

Ziggy crept out of the bed in the morning with the words, “Gonna scope out the shower situation.”

I stayed under the covers. In the morning light, I could see pine trees through the small window. It took me a minute to remember where we were. I mean, I knew we were in my sister’s house, but trying to remember which state. Right. Tennessee. Outside of Memphis.
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Star Sign

The house was a two-story brown-shingle job set back from the road but not far from the houses on either side. The windows were all dark. Remo brought us in through the front door, which didn’t appear to be locked. Janine had gone to sleep, I supposed, and we tiptoed in. Maybe she was just as (un)psyched about this sibling reunion as I was.
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Fame

Remo picked me and Ziggy up at the Memphis airport. He looked like hell.
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Wicked Game

I guess I better tell you something about my older sisters. You think I was good at pretending my mother didn’t exist? I was even better at pretending Lilibeth and Janine didn’t exist, and when we were growing up my life was a lot better when they pretended *I* didn’t exist. When my big sisters were paying attention to me it was to make my life hell.
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Two Worlds Collide

Ziggy was much better at pumping Remo for information. He quickly determined that the reason Claire was in Tennessee and not Kansas was that her high-falutin’ religious leader husband had dropped her like a hot potato when they figured out that her problem wasn’t her gallbladder after all, but cancer of the pancreas.

I didn’t even know what the pancreas was, but it didn’t sound good. I told Remo I’d call Courtney and we’d figure out what we were going to do.
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Born of Frustration

Okay. So I had touched the guitar a couple of times, but only to like get a note for vocal exercises and maybe once or twice to hit a chord to practice the hymn. I had not “played,” for what I considered playing.

I was nervous to really play. Which sounds stupid, but I was.
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Ordinary World

We got in late that night and I tried the number where Remo had said he’d be. By the zip code it looked to be somewhere in Tennessee and I wondered if he was doing another trip through bluegrass country or what. I got a hotel voicemail system and left him a message. He’d have to try me again when he got to his next stop, but at least I had made an effort.

Courtney came over for dinner the next night. She brought the food for us to cook together, which made for a fun, if a bit of an eclectic meal. We made chicken wings and a kind of almost-lasagna casserole and baked potatoes and berry cobbler. “The theme is ‘hey, I’m heating up the oven to warm up my place because it’s winter, might as well bake everything,’” she explained.
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I Advance Masked

We ended up staying in New York until Monday night (or maybe it was Tuesday, doesn’t matter). We stopped by the office before heading out of town so Ziggy could sign something (or meet someone or whatever, doesn’t matter).

Carynne was there and I sat down next to her desk and played with the Wonder Woman Barbie doll she had sitting on the tissue box. I asked Carynne about the “skinny white chicks with attitude” thing and she laughed. “Sarah has me so pegged,” she said. “Even if I’m not remotely skinny anymore.”
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