Kentucky, I miss your laurels and your redbud trees

Meant to post last night, but got wrapped up in the writing of songs. I was going to recount the past weekend; I will do so now.

Friday. What did I do Friday night? Oh, I stayed in. I worked on music, watched the last two Office episodes online, and read. All day at work, I had looked forward to spending some quality time with myself. It was a nice date, though I didn't get lucky at the end of it, unless you call falling asleep while reading Webster Griffin Tarpley lucky.

Went to Spira's housewarming party on Saturday. She had sent out an Evite announcing it and close to forty people didn't respond. Even choosing the "maybe" option seemed to be too taxing for them. I asked her if perhaps she had outdated email information for many of the non-responders and she replied that all of it was current. "They're just rude assholes (I'm paraphrasing)", she said.

Despite that disrespect from many of her friends and family, in the midst of the party Spira maintained, and I believed her, that she was still having a great time with with her present company, old friends and new.

So was I. When Kevin, Nicole, Scott, and Rachael -- people I wish I saw more often -- showed up, I was thrilled. A fun group of people. We ate from the delicious and abundant spread of food that was compiled on the dining room table. We drank wine. We joked, we laughed, we sang songs.

Easter at my grandmother's house lacked its usual pep. My grandmother, or Nana, as we call her, was recovering from having a pacemaker put in only two days prior. She's not very moblie these days -- she's 91 -- but on the heels of this surgery, she was worn down and, despite enjoying being with her family, it was difficult for her to be engaged in the event.

My mother, too, was suffering. She was in the grips of a wrenched neck and back, and could barely move, herself. My parents left early because of this, but the day was still a good one. The kids did the Easter egg hunt in the back yard and, as I watched them scurrying around, I wondered where the time went. It wasn't so long ago, it seemed, when my sister and my cousins were hunting for eggs.

And I did other stuff over the weekend, but I don't want to give it all away. Have to leave some things for the imagination.

Watched the Shane McGowan biopic, If I fall from Grace With God, last night. Here are some of my thoughts about the film.

1. He drinks A LOT.

2. Somehow he's still alive.

3. The Pogues were a great band.

4. Shane was more an integral part of the writing process than I thought he was.

5. It's a shame seeing what alcohol can do to talent.

6. Despite his addiction, he seems pretty happy. Some people take Prozac, Shane drinks.

There's some crazy email business going on right now with Foley and a bunch of people he cc'd, which included me. I don't have the time, or the inclination, to get into it, but it involves someone potentially being embarrassed by a comment I made in one of my replies to Foley. I tell you in good faith that nine out of ten people would find nothing wrong the comment, but for some reason it became an issue. I defended myself and offered a sweeping apology to the alleged victim and anyone else who may have been embarrassed or offended or rendered suicidal by my comment. The whole thing is really very silly, and it should never have been an issue to begin with.

Came up with an idea that will, if it comes to fruition, be one of my better ones over the last decade or so. It has to with music and friends and performances. I'll elaborate more if it looks like it's going to happen. Just figured I'd throw out a little teaser. You like teasers.

Ok, I'm out. Playoffs -- both hockey and basketball -- are upon us and I'm determined to watch as much as I can. This amped up TV watching might interfere with my social life, such that it is. I'm playing music with Foley on a regular basis and I haven't seen Mara in a while. She's hosting an art exhibit at the Somerville Museum this Thursday. It's the same event I met her at last year. Oh, where does the time go?