Woe of a Dead Battery - In Spite of Ourselves
I wanted to write you the nicest story this week about going to Cleveland last weekend but I’m still working on it so instead I will recap John Prine’s Birthday this past Monday. I do believe Mercury was just getting out of retrograde and I had gotten through it fairly well, but as the planets shifted post full moon (which was somewhat manic for me, but in a good way) I was feeling squeezed by the changes that were subtle yet exquisite in how I was feeling in my body.
Gladly I had given myself Monday ‘off’ from working as a nurse but there was still much to do, including a home without groceries, a song to finish with Meghan Hayes, and a gig of my own at the Nashville Palace. Also our battery was dying in the downstairs entrance to our house (that we don’t have a key to) so buying a battery was on my grocery list.
All day long ‘Long Monday’ and ‘In Spite of Ourselves’ were on repeat on my psychic radio, and a couple of times, I even said out loud, ‘C’mon John! Can we switch it up?!’
Meghan and I finished the song - that we had started in January 2019 (!!!) and funnily, it was pretty much done when we started but it needed to marinate just a bit longer I guess.
I busted over to Kroger after we finished up and cruised through, even remembering the battery (and I bought a 4 pack, just in case) and got home with just enough time to unload, take a quick shower and head over to my 6PM gig at the Palace. Remembering to take it easy and be nice to myself, I took a few bags up, leaving my purse that held my keys on the counter. I went back down to get load #2 and as the door shut behind me, the lock flashed RED RED RED. I tried to re-open it with the code. RED RED RED. effffff My keys, in my purse, on the kitchen counter (to one other door in the house). Checking 1x, 2x, 3x - all locked so dutifully by JQ, who was golfing on this gorgeous fall day.
I text him. Strategizing as I wait. First, I stop time. Somehow it works.
Gonna be a looooong Monday
Stuck like the tick of a clock
That’s come unwound again
That song always reminds me of Jimmy Castoe. I picture him singing bgv’s with Prine.
The kitchen window. It’s unlocked! Too risky to try to climb in without getting injured. BUT! I see my purse on the counter. If only my arms were a few feet longer… I bet there’s something in the SHED! I look in there - there is a long stick, about 8 feet long. I don’t know why it’s there but there it is.
I ‘fished’ my purse with the stick! Dangling it as JQ pulled in the driveway, only to hear him say ‘I was having the best golf game of my life.’
‘I got the battery! It was almost right on time! ‘
Neither of us are amused.
I got to my gig on time, though I was feeling a little bit wobbly. A modest gig at the Nashville Palace; ‘Women of Country Night’ hosted every Monday by the awesome Pam Miller. A few people were there and I started with Loretta Lynn’s ‘You Ain't Woman Enough’ - which seemed like the right song to kick it off. I invited JQ up to sing ‘In Spite of Ourselves.’ Singing with him made me feel better. He stayed and we sang a few more. Healing the woe of a dead battery and wishing John a happy birthday, we felt him smile down on us right then and there.
I think John was happily sailing around the city that day as so many were celebrating his songs on his birthday this year and it made me hope that every year is like this because it was uncanny. When I read the list of who’s who at the Ryman that was doing the same exact thing as we were, it felt really good to know that the energy of his spirit sprinkled its little bits on whomever was celebrating, and we all ended up feeling like we were part of his world, in orbit with him, inspired to keep it all going.