ESCAPE VELOCITY

I was saying to ATM how easy it is to fall into the ol' Chicago/New Orleans routine which makes exploring new places (Boise, Idaho?  Thee Badlands?) and getting to far-flung places like Seattle difficult.  You need more time and $$$ to achieve escape velocity, things we're generally short on.

We're canceling our October trip to Chicago and using that refunded money to put towards an Xmas holiday in Seattle. I've not seen my beloved cousin My Tam since she's recovered from cancer, which is fucking shameful.  I am forever grateful for social media for keeping us in touch, but I definitely need to be near her.

!!! played in town last Saturday.  This is a stupid thing to say, but we go way back.  There were some years where !!! and Outhud came here annually for some days to hang out and to play some of the most memorable shows of my life.  Both bands share members, so they were never here at the same time (or were they?) and the details become fuzzy looking back. Did all that really happen? Anyway, great show.  I became a space cadet and danced, which is rare these days.  The line-up has changed some - again - but it was wonderful to see Nic, Gorman + Mario.

KMHD, Nic, ATM + Everett, all 10s:


Lovely Blair had a few of us over for post-show drinks + noshing. After awhile, she handed me a book and pretty much was like "you must".  I obliged + read it in four hours the following Monday.  It was Judy Blume's Summer Sisters. I couldn't put it down!  It's the perfect paperback poolside read, although being flung on a couch, barefoot, with just a t-shirt and cutoffs is acceptable, too. I'm glad Blair put into my hands a book I'd never pick on my own. I'm to pass it on to KMHD; it's regrettable that I didn't get it to her before she went off to the beach.

The book I'm reading now, Escape Velocity: a Charles Portis Miscellany, is a pleasure. Pure sugar. This past Thursday, I went to Big Orange to sit at the bar, sip, and read. I'd like to think it was Portis' writing and not the numerous Sidecars that was making me chuckle out loud. He speaks my language. It doesn't hurt that he's from Arkansas.  With that, there's an unspoken understanding, one that even I, a daughter born in Fort Smith, Arkansas of foreign and Yankee parentage, am privy to.  The book isn't a novel, but as the title suggests writings and observances while being on the beat for newspapers and lengthy compositions for magazines. I'm not even halfway through this book, but I'd recommend it on what I've read thus far, whether you're a Portishead or not.

My best gal, Brittany, slinging, taking good care of me:


Photo by George Probst. Please look at his album for awesome shark photographs.


We were in the neighborhood, so KMHD + I popped in to say hi to our dearest VWW. I miss him so much it hurts:


Just a wee reminder that I'm not a writer, but I do try. Not very much, but there is some effort.  No editor in sight!  Please remember that.