The Headless Mouse

Sometimes true stories no matter how embarrassing are so much more humorous than fiction. This is one such story. It happened a couple of years ago.

   It was a long day of cleaning out the house, dog hair, laundry, dishes, and it was my first day off in four days of putting in 54 hours a week on the clock for someone else.

This was the start of work for me and the fam.   It is always interesting living in the woods, it is always rodent season. They come in the house, you learn to deal with the occasional dead mouse in a trap, and then the dead mouse in a trap smell. You go on a hunt and eventually find the smelly ones and collect them, then throw them out.  When my cat Charlie had total clearance to go anywhere in the house, there were less problems in that area. However…. If you have been following my blogs, you know that he is pretty much confined to the office for his own safety at this point in life. So, there is a surplus of dead mice to throw from time to time.   On this particular day, I had found one under the bathroom cabinet in the bathroom that Jilly uses. I found it, and when Roger got home, he removed it for me. All that was left was the scrub down.  So, I had mouse on the brain to some degree.  They guys had decided to mow the lawns so they were outside in the late afternoon. Roger on the tractor getting the big stuff and Addy taking the smaller mower and cutting in close to trees and other stuff. I was coming out of the office after checking on Charlie. I had let the three dogs he knows come in and visit him. Incidentally, they were happy to see him alive and well. He knows them well and was no longer upset or scared.

Anyway…. We all came out of the office, Me, Shasta, Sugar & Nomad. That is when I saw it. Baste in the hallway with something dead and bloody. He dropped it in front of me on the carpet.   I hate those moments of blood and dead things, so I didn't look very long.  I only noticed that the dead rodent of the moment did not have a head.  My thoughts were immediately thinking… "Oh great, now I have a head someplace to find".  I knew that I can't handle those things well, and I heard the little lawnmower stop.  Addy was gonna take five and prolly come in for a coke.  I yelled out to him… HEY!! Come get this dead mouse out the hallway please… I'll get you a coke, with ice even!

He came in and was ready to remove the dead mouse, but Nomad had picked it up while I was not looking and was headed back into the dinning room. He grabbed Nomad and stopped him from going any further.  He grabbed the tail that was hanging out of Nomads mouth and ordered him to drop it.  After a very small tug of war (after all it could get messy here), Nomad gave up and the mouse was picked up by the tail from my sweaty hero and quickly run to the door to throw out into the yard.   Ahhhh.. my hero.

Relived, but still wondering where the head was. Mind you….If you don't find a head on a body, you will find it eventually. It is not pleasant. I have stepped on a few.  Gotta love living in the forest. 

   So, I got a coke with ice for the hero. Roger came up for a drink as well. We sat there enjoying a libation on my porch, commenting how nice it looked when all mowed etc. etc.  Rog had a bit left to do but Addy was headed back to his side of the yard.  I went back into the house.  I grabbed my laundry basket and was headed for my bedroom with it to put things away.   As I reached my bedroom door… I saw it.   No. It was not the mouse head. It was worse.  I almost wish it were the mouse head. 

   I would like to take this time to digress and say, oh shit..or fuck me to tears. Just thought I would put that in there cause, that is how it felt.   As some of you know, dogs have a way of finding things you think you have thrown away.  They have a way of bringin them to you when you least expect it.  Don't worry, this will all make sense in a second.    There was toilet paper on my bedroom floor. It lead a trail to my bathroom garbage.  Baste had been in there.  Now normally I would not have had that fuck me to tears panic button go off… but to my dismay, the next few thoughts covered embarrassment to total laughter.   Baste had caught something alright.  A tampon from my garbage can. Because of my lack of examination, it looked like a dead mouse with a tail.  The hero thought the same, cause he never questioned it either.  Turns out that I was rescued from my own tampon by my trusty friend and neighbor. Ya know… You gotta admit that it is above and beyond the call of duty.   I was not going to tell him. I thought.. damn.. better that he doesn't know. It is just toooooo weird.  I did go out to the yard and find the damn thing. I drug it back in the house.  While I was doing that, Roger spotted me, and I had to explain to him just WHY I was bringing the dead bloody mouse back into the house….. it just got more and more silly from there.    I did end up telling the hero what happened.  He simply said… "Fantastic" in a very dull dry tone.  I think the word "greeeeaaaat" was in there too.  He even signed my anniversary card as Tampon Man…. So um.. I think he sees the humor here.   Jilly died laughing. She recovered, but all of her body hurts from laughing for a half hour straight.  My mother who was here….. laughed so hard tears came to her eyes.  Roger.. was just laughing off and on all day cause of it.  So.. as it appears to be very humorous, I opted to tell the world.    This is a true story. I hope you enjoyed it.

I now have a lid for my garbage can. I also promise to examine dead bloody things with tails and no heads more carefully before I yell for help.   I would like to add.  NO this does not make him my blood brother!!! LOL…Ahem..  

Bigger Than Life Redneck Dancer Wedding Floor Show

Yet another blast from my past. It is a pretty mellow one but one that brings a smile to my face none the less. 

     This takes us back to the very early 80's.  We have a little 3 piece at the time with Rog on bass, Kahuna (Ron) on drums, & me on guitar. It was in the early years; it was the second real live drummer we had worked with as a group.  It was a simple time, we played, we made money… lots for a three piece at the time.  It got to the point where I didn't have to cold call places to play; they started to call me. We got the gigs lined up and knew where we were gonna be at least a year in advance.  We were weekend warriors and cutting our teeth on some music that was way beyond us (but we did it anyway), live & learn.  I think this is what always gave us the edge that we had.  Learned a lot from Kahuna, he had been playing for over a decade by the time he met up with us. He added humor, a voice, ability & wit. I had a ball working with him. Looked forward to it. He had used it as an escape from the doldrums of a 40-hour a week job. He was a family man you see, already had four kids & a wife at home. So the weekends were his escape to fuel the artsy fartsy part of him that made him who he was.  We kept the traveling within a two-hour radius at the time. We had to, there was no way we could get off work and make it in time to set up, play, tear down, make it home & be back to work with a short nap fit in if there was time.  That was how we lived for 5 or 6 years. I believe it is called paying your dues. Little did I know that it was only the prelude to what was to come…..   During that time, we got to play for crummy little lounges where people didn't notice you unless you fucked up. We also got some really fun gigs playing for bikers. They have private parties, seasonal ones for Christmas, spring, a new bike, someone's had a baby or someone has died. We played them all. We were sort of a personal band for the Clark County Riders for a few years until we moved away from that area. During that same time period, we would change attire and play for nightclubs and supper clubs, street dances and the all-famous wedding dances.  We were a bit different because we talked and included the people that were paying attention. Kahuna had some skits that worked well, he introduced them to us, we used em, then we carried it on from there… bigger, better, nastier, suggestive but not raunchy, all in the name of humor and entertainment.  Lets just say it grew.  

  There is one particular dance that I remember playing in the beginning years as that same trio.  I had my girlfriend Jilly visiting us for a few days. She didn't get to visit often, mother of two, recently divorced at the time, the little kids with the ex mother in law for the weekend.  She lived maybe 8 hours from me, but back then it may as well have been 800. (Hell long distance phone calls were once a year then too…. Oh my the expense). LOL.    So on this rare occasion of her visit, we had a wedding dance to play.  Loaded up the van, Kahuna showed up, we piled in and off we went.  I had the directions to a gymnasium.. ick.  Those places sound so crappy, especially when you are first learning about sound and manipulating it.  Roger did a great job considering we had just got a new (used) to us P.A. system.  We got there, rushed to set up, which with the new P.A. was a big deal to us at the time. We didn't have any lights to set up except one, that we brought from home just to set up so we wouldn't trip on things.  We turned it off during the show time, cause it started to look corny to me to have a lamp WITH shade be the only lighting we had.  This lighting detail is very important to this story; it is what the memory is based on actually.  So bare with me as I set the scene.  The gymnasium had bleachers on one side and was used as a basketball court also.  There was a huge stage that we set up on. It had drapes in front for plays and anything else that was stage able there.  It was decent; it had the beige lighter drapes hanging on the two sides and back of the main stage. Theater effect.  There was a back stage area and places for props of all kinds.   At the time of this gig however, all that was behind the back stage curtain was a big over stuffed chair and a table with an ashtray & table lamp, it was plugged in and worked.  We started out our night, the bride and groom were there, rednecks in love, and the people started comin in.  Jilly was out on the floor listening for a while, moved all over the gym to see if there was any spots that really sucked for sound so that she could give us a heads up.  She didn't mingle much but sort of hung out like the eccentric groupie.  They would come over to her and ask requests and expect her to deliver the oh so important message up to us.

She tired of this game very fast, so she went back stage after our first break.  She made her home in the big overstuffed chair back stage.  At this time I need to explain Jilly as best I can to you. She is not a shy woman. She loves to dance. She is an artist. She is tall and thin (Vogue Model material here), she laughs LOUD and does not hold back. She smoked like a house on fire and would have a beer, or two but didn't get real loaded.  I have known her since way before kindergarten.  Mine AND hers. So with that, I shall continue to set the scene. 

Second set, Jilly is back stage sitting in the over stuffed big chair.  We shut off our lamp where we were and the stage was lit, but not very well and the house lights were up because they were checking for alcohol with the teenagers… (Really a joyful wedding dance).  So we could see, but we were not lit up as much as the dance floor…(might I add that, THAT is a big taboo in my book).  Anyway, since it was poorly lit on stage, it was very dark backstage where Jilly was. So, instead of sitting in the dark, she turned on the lamp beside the chair.  This is where it gets interesting. We are playing away to our underage wedding party; people were shy but starting to have a good time slowly if at all. Then it happened.  Someone had requested  Bob Segars "ol time rock & roll".  At the time, it was not that old and very very popular for a band to throw out at any given time.

We were just happy that they wanted to rock…. Maybe it would be a good night after all.

Un known to us…. Something bigger was happening.  The audience was dancing.. But they were looking at us like we were bigger than life.  I thought damn… we must sound really great!!!! They were looking up with mouths open.. Big smiles, and then they started pointing.  Now.. I don't know about you, but laughing is one thing but when you add pointing to that, I get paranoid.  It was not one or two.. But twenty to fifty people that were looking at the stage and cracking up.  So I look at Roger, not a clue, I look at Ron who was in the middle and towards the back of Roger & myself…. That is when I saw what they were looking at.   The stage curtain had a silhouette that was bigger than life of an over stuffed chair, a table, a lamp, smoke coming up from an ashtray & a beer can. You could actually see the smoke rise.  When we had started the song, Jilly turned the light on to see, took a drag from her cig, stood up, stretched, took a drink from the can, and proceeded to rock out. Dancing like a wild ass go go dancer all by herself behind the curtain. However little did she know or even think about it, but her shadow was clear as day and bigger than life. It looked like we had a maniac go go dancer back stage.  We started laughing with the audience.. amazed at the effect.  When we ended the song. Jilly stopped dancing, took a drink of beer and sat back in the big over stuffed chair. Waiting & smoking.  Whenever we did a song she liked, she would get up and shake it. Lol.. You have to realize that it was very bigger than life and the fact that she had no idea that her private dancing was very very very public and also popular to the crowd it was a magical moment in time.  We didn't tell her till the night was over lol.. It was great.  I will never forget it.   If she was a bit embarrassed, it did not last long and it would have only been because she didn't realize that people were watching.  She was probably thinking… oh shit did I scratch myself????????  Hahah.. You have to know her to realize that it was a minor thing to her, but a memory that has lasted me over 25 years.

  It was just so .. Us.   Bad lighting but a kick ass go go girl in the back.  The early years, ya gotta do em.             Later……. Tune it or Die.

P.S.  This Picture is of her in my current back yard one morning in 2008. She has on rollerstakes, there are a buffalo... coffee and loud laughter  just sayin.. some things never change.

A Breath of Youth

A Breath of Youth

   The last few years of her life, she sat in her chair watching TV. Not that it was much different than a lot of her life J.. however.. she used to watch it by choice. In the end, it was all there was to do for her. If she moved, she was in pain. Her body simply wore out. It had had a hard life of some work… and a lot of drinking.  Her life was entertained by the TV, and any communication from her family.  It was a lifeline that I don’t think they knew about. Any letter or call was shared with “news” of how everybody was. She kept me connected to cousins I had not seen in years, and aunts and uncles that were busy with their own kids and grandkids.  She would worry, stress about the world news. Get very depressed when there was no word from the people that were on her mind all the time.  She still laughed at times, but it was short lived. Not a lot to look forward to yet she tried.

    I remember going to visit her one afternoon. She had told me that she had found a friend. If I remember right, it was at an AA organization for singles or some type of social deal where you don’t meet face to fact but can contact each other for support.

I didn’t think much about the friend until the phone call that I was witness to while I was there.  It was like any normal visit for she and I J… We did not always agree on things and she would give me her two cents and I would listen to her values and preferences then tell her what I was going to do anyway.   Looking at her that day, she was in her chair, with oxygen tank connected to her, and smoking her camel cigarettes at the same time…. And she wonders why I did not always follow her advice.  Her eyes were faded blue, her face happy to see me, but a pasted smile for my benefit. She was uncomfortable and there was no move or position that was going to change it, but she only had to smile while I was there.  We talked a while, made some coffee, caught up on things. She had told me about this new friend. How they had not met yet but talked on the phone.  It was a man. An elderly gentleman as she put it.   They had everything in common, and were both lonesome for company.   The first conversation was short by my standards but to them it was a long time to hold the phone.   She was telling me the details and I noticed something, she was, excited about telling me. That something grew into a graphic face and a real smile.  It was a breath of life…sneaking in.  This older gentleman was single/widowed, lived an hour away, had been calling her for weeks, couple times a day, and she returned the calls. They had already spent hours talking to each other.  While I was there, the phone rang. She answered.  That breath of life not only snuck in, it took over.  I was allowed to see a transformation from a woman in her late 70’s turn into a teenage girl right before my eyes.   Right down to the giggling.  I was not ignored, but I was not the immediate priority J  I waited, looking at magazines and pictures of my family members that they had sent her. Dear Momma, love etc etc.   

     She was so alive, so vibrant.  Even the pain took a step back and let her be for just a few minutes.  She smiled, giggled, flirted, showed compassion, interest and had something to look forward to.   The next call.  When the call was over, she was still on cloud 9. She looked at me and said  “Carrie Lynn, I think I have… a.. boyfriend” J and then she giggled again.    She told me that they had planned to meet when she got a ride to the city for a meeting.  He didn’t drive either.  He smoked, she smoked,  his family was moved away with a few close by but didn’t see them much. They would meet in another month. … until then… they talked and talked and talked.    I was happy for her. For just a little bit of time… one more time she was able to tap into that lil thing we call youth and love.  It was like she never left it, yet longed for it.  Didn’t know it was missing until it hit once again at a ripe old age.   I will never forget those faded blue eyes… that this relationship put a twinkle in.   Her eyes telling me about it, talking on the phone and the afterglow of the conversation…. Were not faded at all, but vibrant, with a sparkle that lasted for a little while.

        I was on the road so I would call to check in with her almost regularly.. things were still cool.   Then I came for a visit again, and  I asked how the meeting had went.  With a wave of her hand as in dissing it. She said ick.  He was nothing like he described, he was rude and never shut up. He smoked too much and was a whiner.   Thru her teenage eyes she also saw what she thought was the ideal elderly man.  He probably in turn did not think of his dream girl on oxygen in the fantasy of it all.  She had the same faded blue eyes with uncomfortable pain once again.  This time no teenage breath of air for a reprieve. She smiled for real and said.. aww well. I think I’m done with romance. She had me change the channel to the animal planet. Got her some coffee. Hugged her stiff little shoulders that felt like a little bird. So fragile, so breakable. I don’t have to wonder if her heart was the same as that, I know it was.  So it was back to watching TV and waiting for phone calls from her family and getting the mail delivered. That was the day for her, food was not interesting, she watched Disney, animal planet, religious shows and old movies. Looked out the window at the retaining wall that was across the street where the Little white church was above it. That was her view. She looked at it every day. The TV was beside the window. Her chair across the room.  We went back to the saying “today is a good day to die”  from one of our favorite movie lines.

Her birthday was in October. She hated the way her body was as she grew older. Her pains, her broken hip, her limitations. She didn’t feel pretty anymore. The little tube of lipstick didn’t do the magic it used to when she was younger.  Yet. When anyone came to visit, she grabbed it and put some on, just for color you see J.  She was so disgusted about her breasts that she even flashed my mother in law.  She said.. hey  wanna see something totally disgusting?  We all laughed including my grandmother, but there was a bit of too much real in that for her. Not something you see every day.  As I write this, it is a flashing (pardon the pun) memory about the sad stuff, and a whole lotta memories flood in about all the good.  I see her eyes, bright and twinkling, full of piss and vinegar, her yahoooooooo , her feather in her hat, her hanging on to the fire engine on the back, headed for Deadwood an hour away, and her robbing the 1980 train one more time. I love you Gramma,

   Guess the moral of this story is, youth & love or the combination of it: has no limits, it can reach even thru the years of age, thru pain, thru lonely, and put you right back in the moment. Not even distance is a factor.  Better to have loved for a breath of life lived in youth again, than to never have dreamed at all.