Happy Mother's Day Mom

One of my favorite songs, by one of my favorite (albeit perhaps guilty pleasure) groups is "Yes We Can" performed by the Pointer Sisters and written by quintessential New Orleanian, Allen Toussaint. In the song, when talking about all the things we can do if we try, he uses the wonderful phrasing, almost as an afterthought... but not quite. "And do respect the women of the world, remember you all had mothers."

That's kind of the way we are in the world... And it's kind of the way I've been for too much of my life as an individual. Remembering our mothers... remembering MY mother... is often NOT at the forefront of my mind. I think that's why Mother's Day is such a big day for the flower, card, and dining establishment; it's the one day a year when we REMEMBER our moms and all the other days of the year that we've taken them for granted.

My mother is amazing. She always has been, and the older I get the more and more and more I see of her in me. So much of who I am and what I want comes from this woman whom I have basically taken for granted for nearly 55 years. She was born in Philadelphia, raised in Manhattan and on Long Island, and then later in Miami. As a teenager she was the first female "copy boy" at The Miami Herald (there was even a columnist at the paper who wrote about his amazement at this confounded new development). She started a radio show with my dad (Time for Betty & Tom), she was a model back in New York, and the host of a cooking show in Cincinnati (no doubt the origin of my own fanatical obsession with food and things foodie). After I was born and my family returned to South Florida, my mom worked the late show movie on local TV (where I got to perform as Santa Claus one year) and as a freelance camera person for a TV station on Florida's West Coast. One of my most vivid memories from childhood is of standing on the tarmac at Palm Beach Airport as Air Force One was arriving with President Kennedy and my mom was dashing toward the plane, Bolex in hand, shouting to my dad "What's the F-stop Tom!?"

Later, when we moved to Arizona, she learned how to paint and she spent hours working in oils on scenes that brought the desert to life on our walls. My favorite of these (from a time in my life that was definitely not my favorite, but then what teenager ever likes their life!?) is still hanging on the wall in my little apartment in Petaluma. I have lugged it around with me to every place I have lived as an adult and it is always one of the first things I put up to know that I am home.

Through all of my life, my mom has been my champion and supporter. Five years ago when Jennifer graduated from college the day before I ran the Dipsea for the first time, mom and dad came out from Florida to be there for both. I still get an enormous amount of joy from remembering the way mom looked at me after the race, a combination of astonishment and pride, mixed with just a little bit (well, maybe a lot) of concern for the health - both mental and physical - of her first born.

Throughout my life, I have certainly not been what she might have dreamed for me to be. I remember one time during that hellashish high school period when I wrote her a song called "I'm Sorry." I still feel that way a lot of the time. I'm sorry mom for the ways I haven't been appreciative, the ways I haven't "lived up to my potential" and the ways I've gone astray. I'm also thankful for the things you gave me that have led me (and still lead me) to do right, to be loyal, to try hard, and to live fully.

Thank you for borning me, raising me, loving me, and still... over and over and over again... supporting me in so many ways.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. I Love You.

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And to the mother of my daughter...

As a post script on this Mother's Day, I also want to salute the mom of my daughter. Jean and I have been through 34 years together; some of them wonderful and fun, and some of the hard as hell. Though only 8 of those years were as husband and wife, she has been a great friend and a steady support for all the rest of the time as well. She gave birth to and mothered a grand and glorious girl/woman of our own, and I am grateful and proud of them both. Happy Mother's Day Jean!

Vicariously NOLA

Today is the beginning of the second weekend of the greatest music festival held anywhere, The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival at the Fairgrounds Racetrack in New Orleans. It's been looking a little cloudy and even a little rainy on the webcams, but for most of the day tht will probably meant that the weather is just a little cooler and the dust is just a little more tamped down.

As for me, I am sitting (as I have done too many times in recent years) back in California listening to every minute as it plays out on WWOZ and thinking about my plans for next year. At the same time, I'm actually working on a project that gives me the opportunity and excuse to listen to Fest and imagine myself there. It's a small comfort, but it IS a comfort and I enjoy it.

On Monday night I took the evening, made myself a wonderful dinner, opened up a bottle of wine, and pulled up a chair next to the computer where I rocked out all evening long listening to WWOZ's Piano Night celebration from the House of Blues.

The event was a celebration of the life of Eddie Bo, who died recently. The last time I got to be at Piano Night, Eddie Bo was the honored guest and it is one of my great memories of my life to see Eddie on one piano directly across from Marcia Ball on another piano with Joe Krown on another piano at the back of the stage, John Cleary on Hammond B, and Dr. John on guitar (they had run out of pianos!!!)

Piano Night (always the Monday after the first weekend of Jazz Fest) and the whole reality of Jazz Fest is a celebration that manifests the amazing heart of New Orleans, that in fact is the heart of America.

What a Wonderful World!

I know what it means...

Hardly a week goes by, and at some times a day doesn't even go by, without me finding one reason or another to pine for The Crescent City.

The next 10 days raise this longing to a level beyond compare, for it's Jazz Fest Time!

From this morning through Sunday and then again next Thursday through Sunday, The Big Easy will be easy with music and music will be absolutely EVERYWHERE!

Despite the fact that I can't make it this year (though at this point I'm still holding out the long shot hope that something will come through that takes me east in time for next weekend) I'll be swooning at each bit of music that comes down from the fairgrounds and lands on my iTunes courtesy of WWOZ.org and when I can't listen to it live, I'll be listening to the innumerable recordings I've made of everything from piano night to my friends James Singleton and Clive Wilson. I'll probably watch the short video I recorded of Donald Harrison and Galactic about a dozen times and listen tot he my jazz fest recordings of Ani DeFranco, and John Fohl, Sonny Landreth, and Anders Osborne, and more... more... more.

Yeah... it's the best week of the year right now in NOLA and one of these days I'll get back there.

Next year in Jerusalem!

Good Night and Good Luck... Mom

Keith's mom died Saturday and this is truly a beautiful, and funny, tribute.

Happy Anniversary!

Yesterday was the anniversary of the big event of last year. Jen and Andy's wedding.

Despite all of the other events, excitements, and catastrophic cataclysms of the previous 365 days, it is not hard at all for me to pick out that Saturday at Fort Mason as the central moment of the year (of many years actually) for me.

One year on, I still look back on it as an experience of tremendous joy and extreme pride. Not a week goes by that I don't feel some moment of joy that pops into the mundane reality of the day and reminds me of the best of what living is. To experience a day where my child was so completely herself, with her partner in life beside her and surrounded by friends and family with laughter, and tears, words, and music, and food and celebration.

THIS is why we go through all the trials and tribulations. This is why we get up every day and struggle through work, and no work, bills, doctors, tears and fears.

This is why we are alive!