visiting the 70's

Once again, my dear friend Julie has touched my life in unexpectant ways. She has always traveled in large circles and embraced many wonderful walks of life. Despite her shyness and introverted ways, her circle was big and close to her.
Larry is just one of those friends. I have known him as long as I have known Julie-he was her primary Oriole baseball bud, former room mate, former neighbor, and a tight music connection. Larry's commitment to playing music and jamming with other friends began 35 plus years ago. He had a group of men (and some women) gather in his small, tight for space Takoma Park house to play together. They would meet every Tuesday, break bread, and play whatever felt good. This tradition has continued to today, although it is now on Friday evenings.
Marcia and I have talked about paying a call on this lam session and we had the opportunity this weekend. It has been 25 years since I paid a visit to Larry and Cathy's humble abode and it was an evening of high school memories. Larry greeted us with a Hot Tuna t-shirt, long gray hair tied back in a pony tail, and a boisterous greeting. Their home was filled with things to look at-albums, rock pictures on the wall, collections of trinkets, rock coffee table books; Orioles memorabilia. We opened wine and the jamming began, in the small room downstairs that was once Julie's living room. it was just big enough for their equipment-set of drums and bongos, guitars, a bass, a keyboard, and a harmonica. The walls were covered in egg cartons and more great pics of rock memories. The music flowed-guess 35 years of practice has paid off. They were in sync and in tune with each other.
How incredibly grateful I have this connection. I will return, to rock out and share more laughs, political conversations, and great times.

my lost weekend of memories

As I continue my trend of sentimentality, it is of great importance I share the experiences of our annual Julie memorial weekend this past weekend. We began this tradition right after she died in November, 2013. Julie collected friends-many of them. And all her friends became everyone else's friends. We have a group of about 14 women, all of which have known her in different parts of her life-college, post college, moves to Baltimore and Takoma Park, and various other snatches of her too brief life. What was so amazing about her is her longevity with her connections. She has created a group who have all known each other for 35+ years-and she is the common denominator.
Last years outing was hard. It was 3 month after she died-everyone was still grieving and we spent most of the weekend sharing our memories and getting teary. This year was quite different, as time has healed some of the pain of not having her here with us. We were more relaxed and able to just enjoy our company.
There was quite prevalent with this year's weekend of debauchery. We had phenomenal food, many laughs, and oh my god, lots of alcohol. Because we were in the city, walking was the simpliest-granted, it wasn't always a straight line, but no one was hurt or left in the dust. Well, not true, as part of our 10 (we were missing a few this year-hope everyone is there next year) made pit stops to the restaurant and lost track of their party. As well as the name of the place and the address. We followed up with a trip to Mum's in Federal Hill, a Julie hang out for baseball and shots of Evel-a very strange concoction of grain alcohol, cloves, and cinnamon. The 'entertainment' that evening was a young struggling college student strumming an electric guitar badly and singing off key. Didn't matter to us, the die hard dancers rocked out and made his night.
We headed over to the Bromo Seltzer Tower on Saturday for culture-very interesting in a Baltimore history sort of way. I arranged a wine tasting which was over the top great. They cracked 8 bottles of wine, we had many snacks, and made Danzel the wine pourer, very happy. Who, by the way, was a librarian in a former life. Kismet. Thanks Julie. Then off to dinner, for more wine and seafood. Took a quick detour to Slainte's Irish Bar for Irish coffees and Marcia's interpretive dance to hard Irish rock. And capped the evening off with the Cats Eye Pub for shots of Jameson and free bourbon shots and a great blues band. Hats off to the group effort to ensure everyone got home safely, despite a few moments of laying on the lobby floor.
Baltimore never disappoints. its has character, life, culture, warmth, and edginess. And in conclusion, I will need to quote Carolyn, "Julie sure did have great taste in women".
Okay, everyone, here's to looking forward to next year!

Chris

Today would have been Chris' 52nd birthday. I think of him often and ponder what life would be like with him in it and getting to know my kids. His humor has carried into the next generation, which is a comfort in some ways. Granted, he was unique with his perspective on life. He left for Puerto Rico in the 80's to open the Chart House and join a band called Chronic Inflammation. He left his mark on Annapolis with antics only Chris could get away with-challenging a military officer to a foot race, where he showed up hung over with a beer in barefeet, as his competition warmed up with push ups. Think he won. He was notorious for party habits at the Chateau Relaxo, where he once fell into our Christmas tree, where my mother found him hugging. He took life lightly. it was all about fun and sharp humor. He had a great ability to quote, verbetim, Waltons Family Christmas. And most of Saturday night Live. Alan and I went to visit him a year after we began dating and what a phenomenal visit. When the house needed cleaning, we stepped outside and Chris hosed the house out with water (all stone and terra cotta). We swam in the rain forest, drank alot of rum, and ate phenomenal seafood. Puerto Rico will never be the same to me.

He weathered trials in his love life, which was part of the reason for his demise. I prefer to think of his warmth, his humor, and his great ability to write. he was just launching a restaurant column in a local publication in Puerto Rico.

I raise a glass to my brother.