Coming Down Is the Hardest Part

I hope everyone had a good weekend. Mine was quite a bit of fun in addition to being...moving. At the moment, I'm really tired as I didn't get home until around 2 this morning. My ass is going to be dragging all day. I got a bit of a late start Saturday morning and didn't get to Chicago until around 2. My mom was awaiting my arrival on her front porch while doing some reading. Since I had gone to the Farmer's Market that morning, I had a cornucopia of delectibles for her: some white aparagus, some garlic/green onion cheese, a four pack of Sprecher's version of her favorite soft drink - cream soda, and a couple other things that I cannot recall. We went up to her apartment to put away the goodies and I noticed that she was reading Digital Fortress. I presumed that she had read The Da Vinci Code and had become hooked on Dan Brown. We immediately set off to grab some lunch as both of us were famished. We ended up at the Swedish restaurant, Tre Kronor, where The Dulcinea and I had brunch last month. My mum had a tasty red peppa quiche while I had me a fine Norwegian meatball sandwich. It was a wonderful day out. Sunny yet not extremely hot. After lunch we decided to go to Andersonville and the Swedish Bakery. So we hopped on a bus.

My mother loves the sWedish Bakery but I had never been there before. Walking in, we found that the place was jam-packed. There was barely any room to manoeuvre. The display cases were filled with all manner of treats - pies, cakes, tortes, tarts, cookies, and candies. We wandered around a bit drooling on the glass before I grabbed a ticket. Surveying the room, it became obvious why I need to move there: frauleins. As I said, the place was packed and it was packed mostly with an array of beautiful young women and a bounty of MILFs. There were a few blondes but there were even more non-white women there. Towards one corner there were a few Hispanic women. Across the room was a gaggle of Middle Eastern looking women. Dispersed in the middle were some Caucasian fraulein who were brunettes and a couple black women that were just gorgeous. I was torn. Do I ogle T&A or food? So I did both. At one point, a MILF was standing in front of me and she wore these nearly transparent white pants. So, after staring at donuts for a bit, I'd look at her ass. Her black panties were patently obvious.

After a while, my number was called and I proceeded to buy 2 lbs. of cookies. Of the 4 varities, I can only remember that one is called "Swedish Blonde". The rest have Swedish names and I can't remember any of them. Miraculously, I refrained from eating any of them until this morning, as I brought them in to work to share with my fellow riff-raff. They're all butter cookies of one sort. One of them is the Swedish take on the gingerbread/spice cookie. One is a plain butter cookie. Another has almonds and the final variety has the jelly filling and has half of the cookie dipped in chocolate. These are the Swedish Blondes. After ogling food and women, my mom and I wandered around Clark Street for a while before hopping back onto the bus. My mom mentioned that it didn't look like I had gotten a haircut. You see, I'd told her earlier in the week that I was going to get one Saturday morning before heading down there. I ended up being too lazy, however. So she told me about the new beauty salon to which she takes my grandmother. It's near my old neighborhood, apparently - somewhere by Milwaukee & Pulaski. She proceeded to tell me that it was owned by an older Polish woman but that all the stylists were young Polish women and suggested that I get my hair cut there sometime. It didn't sound like a bad idea to me. We got back to her car and went back to her place. From there I went to my brother's apartment. We just chilled. Andrew got home around 7:30 and he joined the bullshit session. He has a new job managing a beauty salon. Well, they do nails, waxing, and massage but not hairstyling. Seems an odd job for a guy but, hey, it pays the bills. The business belongs to his friend Tong who bought it for his wife. So Andy gave me the lowdown on being the lone man working in a salon. He said that one of the manicurists had a crush on him but she is a Jehovah's Witness so "fuck that". And I guess that when you get your hands and feet done at the same time, it's called a mani-pedi. A couple of Carl & Andy's friends stopped by - Jim and Tracy. While I don't know either of them well, they were definitely familiar faces. Andy proceeded to brew some of the coffee I brought for him. Rwandan blend from VSP or ESP or whatever that roaster here in Madison is called. The aroma of the beans just stank of chocolate. Fuck, was it good! We all sat around and made fun of the really, really bad movie that was on the Sci-Fi Channel. It was about this creature which was half-man and half-shark going around killing people. With the five of us, it was like Mystery Science Theater 3000 in overdrive and just hilarious. Then we started arguing about the Gulf War. This lasted for over an hour until midnight or thereabouts. It was quite humorous and pretty intense. I loved the little sidetracks too. Tracy said something about the Department of War which caused an uproar about who was Secretary during World War II. This, of course, necessitated the use of the Internet. Carl found the answer - Henry Stinson - but also found other pages about the Department during the Lincoln administration and it just got crazy. But in a good way. Tracy left around midnight and I think I finally hit the rack about 1 or 2. My brother works third shift so calling it an early night for him means going to be around 4.

I got up at 8 something or other, I think. Andrew was stirring as he was going to meet his mom for brunch before heading to work. I had me a brunch date with my mom, aunt, and grandmother. On Saturday, my mom told me that my grandmother was on Zoloft. It's an anti-depressant. Apparently she got very blue after her last round of heart problems. She basically refused to leave her chair. Luckily, the Zoloft is working and, when I met them, my grandmother - who is 2 months shy of 90 - was looking well, in good spirits, and basically showed no tell-tale signs of anything wrong. Just the normal signs of being 89. I try to take comfort in the fact that, despite being almost 90, she basically suffers from the usual stuff that happens to us when we grow old. She moves slowly, her hearing is bad - that kind of stuff. But she has full control of her mind. There's no dementia or Alzheimer's or anything like that. Her memory is still great. Both long and short-term. She remembers where she laid down her purse 5 minutes ago as well as what it was like growing up on a farm in Southern Illinois during the 1920s. She has aged very well indeed. And she doesn't look anywhere near 90. Hopefully I got me some of those genes. I mean, if I'm going to get the bad ticker from her, I should at least get the aging well genes in trade, right?

So I meet my mom, aunt, and grandma at the latter's senior citizen aparment complex on the far north side. (It's really a neat place. It used to be a TB sanitarium but was rennovated. Situated in a wooded area, there's lots of tree and space to roam - it's just beautiful. Plus they have a nature conservatory and whatnot so there's solstice celebrations, maple syrup making, ponds and just lots of green space. Plus it's adjacent to Peterson(?) Park.) Since they had just gotten out of church, we went up to my grandmother's apartment so they could freshen up a bit before leaving. We sat around and chatted. My grandma looked especially pleased to see me. With a big smile on her face, she asked how life was up north. Looking at her made me realize what an atricous grandson I am. While there are certainly others out there who are more distant from there family that I, I am still not particularly close to mine. And I felt bad about this sitting on my grandmother's couch looking at her smile. I love her, to be sure, but am just not close.

We headed over to a restaurant called the Sauganash over by Cicero & Peterson. Breakfast was tasty and the conversation lively On the way out, my aunt tripped over a rug and fell to the floor. Being a touch Polish woman, she was fine as I helped her back to her feet. But it was just strange seeing her fall - it was like in slow motion. She's taken tumbles before. She had a brain tumor removed a few years back and, although she's the same Auntie M as far as her personality goes, her balance just ain't that good. As I said, she was fine but it struck me. Well, something did. I'm struggling to stay awake right now so I'm struggling to figure it all out. But it just has to do with the recognition that everyone around me is getting older. I suppose it was just a graphic example of how things have changed. Having grown up in Chicago, there are lots of memories tied to various places there. And not seeing my family very often means that the time I do spend with them is...is...special. The time just stands out in sharp relief from the routine of the rest of my life. After brunch, we went to hang out next to a pond at the my grandmother's apartment complex. There was a small waterfall and it was just lovely. My grandmother held my arm and we walked up to the edge of the water and watched the goldfish and koi spending a lazy Sunday afternoon. We found a large rock which doubled as a bench and we all sat there chatting and gossiping. Just spending some time together. It was extremely relaxing. At about 12:30, we headed back. My grandmother went home and my aunt jumped into her car to make the drive back to Arlington Heights. My mom was to drive me back to her place so I could grab my car and head to my next destination. She then asked if I'd mind if she tagged along. Of course I didn't.

My next destination was the Tower Records on Clark Street where Marillion would be doing an in-store performance and signing autographs. I realize that most of you have no idea who Marillion are or, if you do, that you probably think they're crap. I'm used to it now. I first got into them sometime in 1987. I had some friends in Chicago that liked them but, after moving to Wisconsin in 1987, found no one that had heard of them or could stand them when I played them some of Marillion's music. So, nearly 18 years later, I'm used to people having no idea who they are or thinking they're shite. But for me, well, I think they're awesome. Their music made up a large chunk of my listening repertoire through high school. They contributed greatly to the soundtrack of my life during the time when I had moved from Chicago to the boonies of Wisconsin. The time when my parents' marriage was riven in twain and when my family was basically splintered. Marillion are like an old friend - I grew up with them. And while the version I'd see was pared down (sans drummer Ian Mosely and keyboardist Mark Kelly) and Onkel Fish left the band in 1988, it was still like a dream come true. (Their first album without Fish, Seasons End came out when I was still in high school.)

I have absolutely no sympathy for people who bitch about parking here in Madison. Compared to Chicago, it's a fucking cakewalk. I drove around for a while before finally finding a spot on Lincoln somewhere. We got out of the car and started walking - in the wrong direction. I should have known better when a guy wearing a Marillion t-shirt walked by us going in the opposite direction. We corrected our course and eventually made it to the store. There was a fair number of people there with most of them wearing progressive rock t-shirts and, in general, looking like nerds. My kinda people!! I had completely forgotten to bring anything for them to sign with me so I bought their new DVD and snagged a couple promo postcard hoolies from the checkout counter. Even more people wandered in and I recognized one guy from the Porcupine Tree show last month in Milwaukee. There was also a surprisingly large number of women there. When the boys finally came out, I felt really weird. There they were. They were some of the guys that provided the bulk of the music of my teenage years. It was weird but in a good way. I'd played air guitar to Steve Rothery solos countless times but now I'd finally get a chance to see him in person. They did a short set of only 3 or 4 songs and they played none of the classics from the 80s that my teenage incarnation grooved to but it was still great. "You're Gone" sounded great all stripped down and "Answering Machine" is a great tune and had a lot of energy live. I managed to get some pictures as well as a few brief video clips. After the performance, the boys took seats and a long line formed snaking around the outer wall of the store. My mom left at this point. We hugged goodbye and I followed her out looking to bum a root from someone. Out on the balcony, I met a few fellow fans and found a woman who had a ration of squares. All us smokers ended up chatting. Ron was from Detroit and he had brought a few dozen records for the band to sign. The couple there had flown in from Los Angeles to see the band. Once I was back in the store, I met a couple people from Michigan and guy from Minneapolis. The boys in the band were stateside on a small tour to promote their new DVD, Marbles on the Road. They would stop in about 6 or 7 cities doing the in-store thing followed by an acoustic show at a venue. With the limited tour dates, the hard-core fans came out of the woodwork and drove and flew to their nearest stop.

I eneded up in line just ahead of Ron, the guy from Detroit whom I'd met out on the balcony. We would end up hanging out during the afternoon before the show. While in line, we chatted. He was orignally from Minnesota but moved to Detroit after getting out of the Navy and meeting a She-Freak (that's a female Marillion fan) from there. They were now married and had twins 7 months ago. When the long wait was over, I finally got to meet some of my heroes. Pete Trawavas was really friendly. I shook his hand and he asked what the chemical formula on my t-shirt was. (It was for capsaicin.) I got my things signed and had my picture taken with the band. All 3 of them were really friendly. They were laughing and acting goofy and just having a good time.

I offered Ron a ride over to his car which he had parked in front of the Double Door, where the boys were playing. I ended up parking a few blocks away. During our short walk, we were propositioned by 2 hookers. We got to his car where he dropped off his records and we headed to a bar. First stop was a Mexian place. It didn't have AC so we went across the street to Pint which was a really nice place. Our server was this absolute beauty who was from Dublin who come over to the states for the summer. It proved to be a trend because the bar manager was a guy from England. We had some dinner and a couple beers. We moved out to the sidewalk where they had tables and chairs setup and we found a couple other groups of Marillion fans out there. We drank some more before getting our stuff together and heading to the Double Door. (Concert sequences from the movie High Fidelity were shot there.) We arrived and found it pretty packed. But we weaseled our way towards the stage and found spots to stand. Being 6'2", I didn't have much of a problem but Ron was about 5'4" so he had a bit of a harder time.

Jason Hart, a guy in his 20s, was the opener. It was just him on piano. His songs were OK. The sections with vocals seemed overly melodramatic but the lengthy instrumental bits were really quite good. He wore this shirt thingy with droopy sleeves that looked like a Rick Wakeman outfit. Indeed, he said that he was going for the Wakeman look. He played 3 originals and then introduced his last song. He said that he was a big Marillion fan and that, since this was the last night he'd be opening for the Marillos, he was going to do something special. Then out walked Pete Trawavas and Steve Rothery. And then there were those piano notes. They were playing "Lavender"! The whole crowd sang along at the top of their lungs and it was just fantastic! "Lavender" is one of those songs from my teenage years and has one of the best guitar solos ever. Ever. It's just so tender and melodic...A great way to end the opening set.

After a brief wait, H came out and did 3 tunes with just him on piano before Pete came out and added bass to "Bell In the Sea". It was just freakin' cool! Then Steve came out and it was Los Trios Marillos!

They were really loose. The joked around and laughed at themselves and each other when they played a bum note. They did "Answering Machine" and H said that Chicago had the best clappers afterwards. Between songs, someone started yelling for "Cannibal Surf Babe" and H asked how the hell they were supposed to do it acoustic. But it was too late. Steve and Pete started playing it so there was no turning back. I sang along with it and it turned out to be a highlight of the night. It brought back a lot of memories from 1995.

Across the room I noticed a hot brunette dancing and singing and just really getting into the show. It was weird to be there, to be amongst other fans. For years and years, I've gotten crap about being into Marillion and there I found myself with 400 or so other fans. A woman behind me yelled for "Easter" and, when she got her wish, she pushed her way closer to the stage. She found a spot and sang and danced to it. Progressive rock has this reputation for having fans who are a bunch of scruffy, dorky white guys like me but the crowd was fairly diverse. Yeah, there was definitely a lot of us dorks in the audience but there was also a large number of women in attendance. And they all seemed to be more familiar with the stuff from the band's last album, Marbles, than I was.

Another highlight of the night was "Runaway" from Brave. Brave is a concept album but, curiously enough, the story is told from the point of view of a girl. I don't know why the song struck me as it did but it was just great. In the middle of the set they did "Sugar Mice". It was the only Fish-era song they did and it was a doozie. If you're unfamiliar with Marillion's music, the closest analogy I can think of for "Sugar Mice" is Pink Floyd's "Mother". That somber deal with the aching guitar solo. The song came out in 1987 and was a regular listen in high school. Lots of memories of that time came flooding back. And, it having been Father's Day, most of those memories were about him and the breakup of our family. And so that song brought tears to my eyes - it was just extremely moving.

After the show, I hit the road and drove home. I arrived around 2 fully intending to call in sick today but I'm here. At work. Tired as fuck. I didn't go to bed right away last night. Since I was going to sleep in, I got the last Doctor Who episode of the season downloading and poked around email and some blogs. I made the mistake of reading some of what The Dulcinea has written since our parting of the ways a week and a half ago. Big mistake.

OK, I really need to get some more coffee...