Father’s Day.
Our time in Belleville has been somewhat up and down, and I’m afraid that our host, Susan (coincidentally our very first ilyANGEL) has gotten a pretty heavy dose of a very moody ilyAIMY. I mean, we’ve been very well-behaved, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been as charming as I should be.
At least part of that has to do with the day we’re supposed to be celebrating today. I mean, the blame can be spread: I am tired. We’ve been playing a LOT over the past couple of weeks, few breaks in between, and in general, home is close temporally if not linearly and I’m very, very ready to be on my own and free to wander a little bit.
But, I’ve got to finally admit, a lot of it has to do with Father’s Day.
I don’t think I was aware of how it was bothering me at first. The constant advertisements have been constant reminders, and with his heightened awareness of pop-culture and the frequency with which he watches television or listens to the radio, I know my brother was being bothered by this for a while… but I think it’s finally sinking in for me – this is the first Father’s Day where I haven’t had to have my mom’s constant reminders to remember that it’s here. Today, Father’s Day falls just eight weeks after my own Dad has died.
It doesn’t really seem fair. I’m always so bad with dates, and it seems that the first time that all the banners and big posters reminding me of Father’s Day gifts and Father’s Day BBQs and proclaiming that this gift or that gift would be best for Dad on Sunday… this is the first time that all those advertisements have been completely unavoidable.
I do well at keeping my mind off of whatever it is that I don’t want to think about. Yesterday, not only did we play the gig at the Ground Floor, but we’d also picked one up from the owner of the local Irish bar, the Castletown Geoghegan. He had seen us last year and remembered us well enough that when he spotted us on the street, he walked over, introduced us and offered us money to play his bar.
Before that, we’d gone and seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith, which was truly awesome in a way that only Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt can be. Brad Pitt rocks my world, and completely keeps me from thinking of Father’s Day…
In general, Belleville has been very, very welcoming. So many familiar faces, and it doesn’t seem that we were here so very long ago. It’s been like some sort of homecoming – a much-needed recharge on the last leg of this Trip.
Last night at the Ground Floor, walking in and seeing Dan and Amy smiling in recognition, knowing that they had ASKED for us to come back… that’s a really good feeling. It gave us some fierce aura of energy to push through the night with. We played with everything we had left and we had dancers up front, something we haven’t had in weeks.
I’ve been talking to the local bar owners, and I even think that there could be money scraped together to get the full band out here! Now if we can just scrape the TIME together to get the full band out here… preferably long before next-year’s festival!
Today, Heather and I got up and shook off our sleep and headed out to a cook-out/pool party that “the Ducks” (the Duck Tape Duo) were throwing. I think it was
a lot of fun, meeting them outside of a bar, meeting their family and their kids, until it sort of clicked in my head that it was a FATHER’S DAY party. Then it sort of paled. I couldn’t sustain the energy, and I couldn’t sustain the mood. I knew I had to call my mom and night was coming on and it was time to head out. I’m not even sure that I recognized it for what it was at the time, but lying in bed upon our return, staring at the ceiling and letting my mind wander, I suddenly realized what I didn’t like about the day… I didn’t have anything to celebrate any more.
I liked watching the kids, and I liked watching the Ducks and their dogs and their rabbits and miscellaneous creatures… but I’m very far away from home, and I miss my friends and family and their creatures.
48 hours or so.
Heh. And counting.
