Hometown Hijinks & Escape Tactics
I know, I know….much too long of a gap. But I’m pretty sure you were all well consumed by your own lives to think even once – gee….I wonder what’s up with Shari? At least I hope that’s the case for your sake!
In fact, I’ve been chipping away at this newsletter for more than a couple of months. Hard to put a period on it and send. I’ll break it down for you…
EARLY SEPTEMBER
I was going to put “Class of 69” as the subject line of this missive, but then thought perhaps filters would think it something other than a benign message from your friend. Yes, that was my high school graduation class. Go Bulldogs! And yes, we just had our 50th reunion. The actual “do” was like so many large social gatherings - the deafening din of the sheer number of humans talking in the room rendering meaningful conversation impossible. But everything around it - the week spent with Ronalee & Jean - my two childhood pals since we were in kindergarten, with whom I’ve stayed close, was wonderful beyond words. We all camped out at Ronalee’s sister Janis’ home in San Anselmo and spent our days exploring all our old haunts - Bolinas, Mt. Tamalpais, Sausalito, Fairfax, and of course San Rafael. We drove by all our respective homes, walked in our old hoods, and underscored it all with the recounting of random memories and colourful stories. Stories of all manner of risky behaviour, bad boys, and questionable choices in the era of Free Love and mind altering substances. All peppered with “it’s a miracle we survived!”. But what made me continually swoon was returning to the flora and fauna of my childhood home… the intoxicating scent of the eucalyptus, oak trees, night blooming jasmine - and the constant sound of the crickets underscoring our raucous rounds of Hearts in the evenings. Granted, I don’t take vacations, so it was all revelatory to me to actually hit pause on my usual life and surrender to just hanging. But that deeper experience of the land of my youth was exhilarating. I loved every minute of it. And….for the first time since the Hometown Band played the Freight & Salvage in San Francisco in 1977, I got to do a show on my home turf – in Sausalito – mostly for my classmates. Given I’ve been writing songs about our lives for the past 45 years, it was a special treat to finally get to share them directly with my high school friends and California family.
The first part of that trip was a week in Nashville. My 3rd time showcasing for Borealis at the American Fest - and of course, every time I go I think I should spend 6 months and steep myself in the land of musical gluttony, but….but…. no one walks there! Side walks and cyclists are rare. The city is built for cars (and tourists on scooters - reviled by Uber drivers and emergency room doctors). Of course I’ve only gone in September when really, only lizards who have adapted to the hostile environment since the prehistoric age can survive outside. But still - I don’t know that I’d last long, fun as it is. Plus, I’ll confess it’s a bit weird being in a city where music rules where I have zero identity, and I don’t know how to get in the almighty door.
It’s a door I don’t even recalling walking through when I started in Vancouver in 1973. It seemed like there was no door knocking involved. In Nashville, it’s all about the doors. The night before I left I played my first ever open mic - at the famed Bluebird Café. Door #1 required being one of the first 25 callers at 11 am on Monday morning to win a spot for that evening. Then waiting outside in the 100º sun for 45 minutes with the other hopefuls for the opportunity to play two songs. Retro dues. It was however probably one of the most supportive rooms ever - full of the friends and families of the hopefuls – some of whom, like me, just wanted to play a room in Nashville. So it was unique and harsh and sweet and weird and…. well…it made me realize to get traction there I’d be starting from scratch. Hmm…I don’t think I have enough time left for that!
The best part of the adventure was hanging with Cindy (Fairbank - my piano player), seeing new and old favourite bands (including our very own Bros Landreth (who are as good as gets to my mind), and spending the day with bassist Kirby Barber who is mostly living down there. Which leads me to the subject of the joys of playing with 3 strong, exceptionally skilled and delightful women (including daughter Julia of course). There aren’t adequate words to express how much I love them and how lucky I feel to play with them. There are simply far too few women musicians and I feel like I won the lottery playing with them.
And now to the present….
Currently revelling in time at home. Hunting both for shows and someone to take on booking them, and puttering away with home improvement after years of not having time. 22 years after building my house I’m finally getting the baseboards put in. Oh geez, could my news get any more trivial than that? Well, OK sure, I could come up with something, but… The point is, I’m keenly aware that my focus on home is less about getting to long overdue tasks than it is about it being something I can effect, change and improve, unlike the shit show of chaos out there in the world. The sense of powerlessness over humans behaving badly can be overwhelming, and I think we’re all taking refuge and escape in various ways. Fortunately drinking and drugs aren’t my escape of choice, but new baseboards? Replacing the shower door that’s leaked for 22 years? YEAH BABY! (You no longer wonder why I live alone do you?) It’s also a predictable pattern of mine that when I finish a large project (and really, a new album is at least a 3 year process from writing through recording and releasing) I tend to “treat” myself with nesting projects. I’m a chronically task oriented person.
Alright…back to it. Do check out the tour page for upcoming shows – I will be out in Ontario and the Maritimes this spring and summer, so if you’d like me to come to your town for a concert, let me know!
One last tidbit about being a human… I’ve become very aware as I go through my days the impact we can have on strangers and friends by even the briefest of interactions. How little effort it takes to extend a little extra smile and kindness and how visceral it is to me the difference one can make by the simplest of gestures, making someone feel seen and appreciated. Everyone hungers for it. Kindness can never be overrated. Everyone is a little lonely and a little scared and every encounter is an opportunity to connect even for a second, and every little bit makes a difference.
Thanks for taking precious time out of your day to read.
Happy Trails and with great fondness,
Shari