Get small, muchachos!

Science types say one day we'll be able to shrink ourselves, that this will save the earth. We'll all be on the head of a pin. I'm ready to go small. Maybe not every one of us on the head of a pin small, but smallish. What if I could drive all around in my tiny Volvo with an adorable dollhouse? Then, get to my spot and just shrink to fit? It seems an optimum way to travel.

The way I've been doing it, since Jesse Pinkman (the 87 Winnebago) retired herself, is a Toyota Tundra and a 24' Starcraft camper coming in at 5,000 pounds, give or take.  There's some set-up time; there's pulling in and out, putting the camper on, taking it off. Doing three passes to make sure I remembered all the things.  Then you pull up to the poo-pit and dump the black first, the gray second. Back away from the poo; if you get to close, it can and will induce some vomit reactions. Cause black tank fills faster than you think; black tank don't care; black tank nast-ayyyyyy.

Which way now? Back, or forward?

*audience yells, "Get on with it!"*

That was yet another Monty Python reference. Those never get old, and they describe every situation known to man. For example, these old dudes drive around the KOA in a golf cart with a pull cart picking up trash. People see 'em and run out to load the cart. BRING OUT YOUR DEAD.

**I was going to post a clip from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the "Bring out your dead!" scene, but it appears youtube has let me down yet again **

Backwards, to March 21 of this year. Todd Snider at the Slowdown. I missed his last Nebraska appearance in Lincoln because I had just hurt my back and knew I'd have to be in a wheelchair to make the show. I still considered going, but the indescribable pain the car trip there and home would've caused-- I knew I couldn't. Todd talked about this maybe being his last tour, at that show. I was devastated, heartbroken. I needed to see him this last time.

Fast forward, and standing before us is Todd Snider, glowing with joy. His and my timelines seem to be similar. He'd been dealing with back issues when he considered quitting touring. Now, here he is, happy and ready to tour indefinitely. I was soooo glad I got to see him this way. His joy is mine, somehow. I like to see him get back some of what he's been giving.

Todd, singing to Anita, after she'd just gotten her coclear implant and could joyfully hear again. The sweetest thing you're ever going to see.

I mentioned in an earlier post the good tidings that have come through just being a fan of this guy... other fans have helped me in incredible ways. His fans are some of the most lovely, nerdy, giving people I've ever met. My kind of nerds. My place in the sun is reflecting this dude's glow. I'm not sure why. Some people just hit you like that.

The day of the show, I was super excited. Leaving small town Nebraska, ready for a mini adventure. I had this intuition, this impulse. Every time I checked the time it was 9:11, 10:11, 11:11, then I saw mile marker 11, a sign with a huge 11. My guts yelled, this is it! Something that happens today is IMPORTANT. Something great.

I took a right, following GPS's guidance, and smoke peeled from the hood of my car as I pulled in front of the venue. I pulled into the nearest parking pay zone, got out, popped the hood and pulled a few quarters from the dash to feed the meter. The meter flashed the word FAIL, FAIL, FAIL as smoked rolled upward, now in a direct path to the sky. I saw the fine crack in the coolant tank, and smirked. This is... perfect... because it's not a big deal really, but you can't drive that way. So I'll meet someone tonight and ask that they take me to get coolant. Eleven. One plus one equals two. These are good signs, and everything "bad" that happens, I instantly recognize as "shit working out."

I don't even have to pay the meter for the next two hours. SCORE!

Every person you meet in this life serves a purpose. Often, they're a direct reflection of you. Especially love interests, I find. In those times, where I was GOING THROUGH IT, the people I met were going through it too. That's how we got through it.

I'd been closing my eyes to any possibility, because I was waiting. Laying in wait until that moment I felt it-- I felt a calm. A happiness in myself. That joie de vivre was coming back, and I was finally ready to find a person who was a reflection of that. I write this knowing that this person may or may not be "with me at the end," but that for now, I'm reflecting an awful decent amount of good feelings.

I grab dinner and head to the venue. I've had two glasses of wine and feel ready -- ready for the first time, to not be passive. I walk to the rail, or as close as I can get with my GA ticket. Two guys on my left, completely disinteresting, three girls to the right, on their way to alcohol, who'll definitely talk through the whole show. AVOID.  So I lean forward over the rail and see a spot on the other side. Oooh, and there's someone there I could talk to. I can definitely see talking to him, hanging out with him even. He's just... interesting, inviting...

I went over and we talked like old friends. Until Todd came on. He knew exactly when to shut the hell up, a characteristic often overlooked, but completely vital. We talked between sets, sometimes a little between songs. I knew I'd ask him to take me for coolant. I was waiting for the right moment to spring it on him.

We giggled about weird stuff the whole way there, the whole way back. I basically had to tell him to take my number. But I'd had a few drinks, and wasn't letting him leave based on the fact that we *might* find each other on facebook.

THERE was totally a point to this story. Shit.

OH YEAH! My dogs. So, on this trip, I started noticing the dogs reactions to people, and I started noticing that when I talk about the dogs, especially Dude, I'm really talking about myself. It's funny, but now I know why Cesar Milan always works on the people. The dogs reflect us. Just the way kids do. If your kid does something super annoying, you can bet your ARSE you do it too. Look into it, I'll wait.
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I waited but you'll have to give it more thought than that.

My dogs bark at people who are angry. It took a while for me to suss out exactly what was happening, but finally the correlation. This man was outside, banging on everything, screaming his guts out, throwing an epic MANTRUM. The next day, Dude barked at him. A week later, another dude was outside, and I hadn't marked him as angry, because it was too early for me to process other people's shit. But Dude barks, and he says something shitty to her, and I'm thinking, "It's YOU. She's responding to YOU. She doesn't bark at very many people, and she's totally responding to your super weird energy right now!"  He even walked like he was angry. I was so relieved when I walked out and they were pulling out. I don't do well with anger. It's quite toxic.

I can deal easily with every other emotion, but anger is the one last barrier, the one last thing that really frightens me. I hide from it.  My dogs bark at it, to point that out to me.

As you may have guessed, it was a person I've blogged about, who I met at the Todd show. I refer to him as Peaceful Waters. I don't know, it just makes sense. When I heard that song (Lake Marie, by John Prine), I thought of him immediately. And "oh wah oh, wah oh" is how I feel. Which means I don't know how I feel, but that "oh wah oh, wah oh" covers it.

And that song mentions "Louie, Louie" and when we talked about Louie, Louie, in the context of TODD, it was the moment I thought Peaceful Waters was really okay. Like he knew some cool details, stuff anyone, just anyone, would definitely not know.

Dude reacts to him too. One of the last times we saw him, he remarked on her joyfulness. I thought it was a lot of things: a long winter without a lot of time off the leash, out of the house, etc. In hindsight, after seeing her jumping through creeks off leash, biting at the water, playing excitedly, I know this: she's happy, but that joy isn't present. I watch her carefully, and it's not quite the same. The joy she had before, it's HERE but it's just a few degrees less. We both feel that way. It's the best way you can feel, you know? Like you're happy, you're complete, you're a complete piece, but there's a little extra joy when you're in the presence of someone you really like. And that's a good place to begin, if there ever was one: we're whole pieces, but there's a little extra, bonus happiness together.

Anyone charged with filling someone else's cup is doomed to failure. But it's fun finding out, so if you're in the "looking for someone to fill my voids" phase, have no despair, this is but a rest stop on your way to better days. For me, a signature of finally passing that port.

It's all downhill from here, and don't you know that I'm a lover of the other side of the hill! Like one of my early heroes, Mr Chris LeDoux:

That's Chris LeDoux, singing with Jerry Jeff, who just *happens to be* Todd Snider's hero. Weird how that works out, right?!

10-4 buddy, come on back
A horse trailer on a Cadillac
Yeah, we're talkin' to the cowboy
In the coupe de ville
Chug-a-luggin' up one side
Slidin' down the other
I'm a lover of the other side of the hill

Bandana hangin' mirror
Still wet from ear to ear
We'll, I guess it's true then
What the wise men say
When you ride your last one
Make sure he's the best one
Jump while he's movin'
Tip your hat boys and walk away