You would have been 33 years old today. The same age as Jesus when He was crucified. Do you get to talk with Him about that? What a privilege that must be. I know you relied on him heavily before the day you left us.
I wanted to celebrate this weekend differently. Back in December, Dad called me. I was Christmas shopping in Jonesboro. I had just walked out of the Five Below. He said tickets to see Metallica in Dallas were only $100, for TWO nights (different sets, different openers each night - Pantera and Mammoth WVH on Friday; Five Finger Death Punch and Ice Nine Kills on Sunday). What a steal. What a show!! He said that could be my Christmas present: "Get 2 and take someone with you." Kattie, if she was able; Kortni maybe if Kattie couldn't make it. I could drive down, not only spend mother/daughter time, but stay with MY sister. See the nieces and great nephews. Spend your actual birthday at the 2nd show then hightail it back here and even be at work on Monday for the first day of classes. I'd be tired but I could've done it. Even if I'd flown - flights go directly from Memphis to DFW and back. I would've made it work.
But no. This didn't even count as an exception to the rule, so...oh well. I stayed here. I sold my tickets; will get about 85% back of what I paid originally for both. I'll use it to register for the event I'm going to in October and that vacation leave was approved.
I worked all day on the 18th and have enjoyed the weekend anyway. I hiked in the woods at Village Creek, got a good nap, ate my meals. Wrote some more on my latest book. (It will be ready by Halloween, I promise!!) Was up fairly late.
It was hard to get up on Sunday. I sent you a birthday text. I wish you could answer.
I made an omelet for "brunch." It didn't look very pretty but it tasted good. Y'know, the very first time I made an omelet, a la Julia Child, if flipped perfectly. I have been unable to recreate that feat effectively since. I flip it and it goes all over the place, even in my special Wolfgang Puck omelet pan.
I added some avocado and baked a can of biscuits to try some apple butter one of my faculty had made. It was good. I drank coffee out of my Disney Villainess World Domination mug. Elephant was very interested in joining me for breakfast; he doesn't normally do that, but he was peeking over that edge of the cage. Probably wondering where you were.
I finished The Blanket Of Evil from Dark Shadows. Only took me seven years, haha. Now I can focus on the chevron afghan Dad wants: with purple and yellow because of some LSU joke you two shared; maroon and white for Killeen's colors; and green, your favorite color. It will look almost like the blanket I made for Gabriel. I did some comic reading. I don't know why I let them pile up. We could have read them with the boys.
I noticed today that several famous people share your birthday. Notable ones are Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin. Ke Huy Quan from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Misha Collins from Supernatural, the other "Cass" LOL. (Luke still watches. I think he's on his third run.) H.P. Lovecraft. Dimebag Darrell. Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy. You're in good company.
Made my last meal kit meal for dinner. I don't have the strength for your favorite. Besides, Dad (and your grandma) makes much better Chicken and Dumplings than I do anyway. I did have a cocktail in your honor: A Hawaiian mimosa, or I call it now, a Cassondra. That's what we were drinking that last night you were home with us. What an awesome weekend that was. I wish we could do it again. I ate Reese's today, too, because that's just what I needed to do.
Even though this weekend didn't go the way I'd originally planned, I did try to enjoy it. Dad's out in Wyoming on another motorcycle/photography adventure, and I'm here. Far from "home" myself but there is a lot about where I am that IS good. One of my friends texted me Friday morning asking if I was okay and that meant a lot to me. I appreciated that tremendously.
I tried not to let the disappointment get me down. I tried not to think about it. (The Old Scarlett O'Hara Tactic: "I'll think about it tomorrow.") It's your birthday, but that's now a text you can't answer, a phone call or a FaceTime you won't pick up. You aren't able to come home or visit me, and I can't go where you are. Not any time soon, anyway. I promised you I'd make it to 100 and you'll be upset if I don't honor that. Forty-six years will be a long time to see you again but if I show up sooner, you'll send me back:
"Not yet, Mom!!"
We miss you a lot. The world is less brighter. We have little tolerance for things that aren't that important in the long run. I've written line upon line about this; things that I'm not ready to share but someday maybe I'll publish of book of these essays I've done since 2021. Rants, breakdowns, monologues. Sometimes they're overwhelming and I have to just stop and breathe.
But this is YOUR birthday celebration and I did it the best I could under the circumstances. I really wish you could have been here. Dad got you the best gift though by having those climbers take your keychain up to the top of Devils Tower. That's really special. I know you'll love the view.
The year is 1984. I have not yet turned to the Dark Side and become a metal head. MTV, The Devil's Channel, is not yet available via cable in Mena, Arkansas. But we do have Night Tracks every weekend on the TBS Superstation, and Friday Night Videos on NBC after The Tonight Show. There was also this thing called radio. You may have heard of it.
Since 1983, I've been a huge Stevie Nicks fan. Then this older singer from the 60s and 70s made this fantastic comeback and I've switched gears.
Her name is Tina Turner.
I know one song. I have the 45 single that belonged to my sister called "Proud Mary." The B-Side is "Funkier Than a Mosquito's Twitter." The new song though is called "What's Love Got to Do With It" and it's pretty good. In the video, this 42-year-old woman looks fantastic: Strutting around in the jean jacket and the leather mini skirt and the black patent leather pumps with the spike heels. I copy the outfit - still have my teardrop pearl earrings and the rhinestone necklace. That hair, though. And those legs. Those cheekbones. And the VOICE.
Then there's "Better Be Good to Me." Again, a WOMAN dancing around in black leather, with Cy Curnin of The Fixx, no less, and making it look classy and sexy and cool all at the same time. She's just BAD ASS. (Oh, and Jamie West-Oren, also of The Fixx, is playing guitar.)
I got the "Private Dancer" cassette for Christmas that year. (As well as "Purple Rain," "Reckless," and "1984." What at year that was. Wow.) I played it as nauseum. "I Might Have Been Queen." "I Can't Stand the Rain." "Steel Claw." Not a bad track on it. I sang along and knew every word. I also got (maybe for my birthday?), a VHS of one her shows in England. Again, watched it over and over. (And yes, that's the Lost Boys saxophone guy, Tim Cappello, before he was the Lost Boys saxophone guy.) I copied the dance moves, and inadvertently became quite well-known for my Tina Turner impression. I performed it between acts for the FBLA March of Dimes Variety Show matinees we did for the High School and Middle School. Not bad for a white girl.
The first pair of heels I ever owned were black patent pumps. I wanted to BE Tina Turner.
When we finally got MTV in Mena (I'll tell my bootleg cable story some other time) and our own exorbitantly priced VCR. I recorded her videos (along with many, many others) when they came on, and Tina came on a lot. She was even mentioned in the very first episode of "Heavy Metal Mania" for her role in "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome." Dee Snider: "Now, Tina Turner's not strictly heavy metal, but the lady's definitely heavy, all right?" "We Don't Need Another Hero," performed in full Auntie Entity garb, played a lot that summer. I didn't see it in the theater. I think we rented it? Or maybe I didn't see it until it came on HBO? I don't remember.
"Master Blaster runs Bartertown!"
I can still see her last scene, prancing up and hopping on Auntie Entity's vehicle. How we'd all like to move like that, that combination of grace and sass. She could be sexy without being slutty. Rock and Soul Bar None.
My favorite Thunderdome song though was "One of the Living." The video first aired in the fall of 1985 and there she was slinging around a red Jackson guitar. Didn't really work but nice try there, unnamed video producer. Too bad it wasn't a bigger hit because it's a really good song.
"Break Every Rule," the follow-up to "Private Dancer," came out in 1986 and it was...okay. I didn't really like "Typical Male," "What You Get is What You See" almost sounded country. but I absolutely loved "Back Where You Started." I've always wanted to cover it.
By this time though, I was deep into the Metal Realm, so I took a Tina hiatus. I did eventually move on to my second pair of patent leather pumps by the early 90s. The ones I'd had since high school had served me well and were retired. I think I had the heel taps replaced twice. I did read "I, Tina" at some point.
Day-um. Then they made the movie.
"What's Love Got to Do With It?" came out in 1993. I was living in Little Rock (unfortunately) and my buddy Craig Crane went with me to see it one afternoon on a weekday and there were about 6 people in the theater. Angela Bassett was phenomenal. She lip-synced Tina's voice, so when the scene comes up where she sings with the Kings of Rhythm for the first time...chills.
It's not the prettiest voice, but there's something about it - it's unique and distinctive, and that's what used to sell records - a sound that just catches your attention and you go, "WOW." It just has that "thing."
And it's amazing I don't hate Laurence Fishburne. His Ike Turner was terrifying.
I managed to snag copies of "The Best" and the "What's Love" soundtrack on CD, and also found a karaoke tape of "I Don't Wanna Fight". I used it to audition for a band that looking for a singer. I didn't get that gig.
Bastards.
I'd even bought my first wig for that, trying to get back into performing, because I'd cut my hair super short in 1994. (I went through this Legend of Billie Jean phase, plus I needed to lose the over-permed, over-colored, wanna-be-big hair damage of the last 8 or 9 years). It was with that haircut that Mom and I went to watch Tina perform at Riverfront Amphitheater. (Chris Isaak was the opener. He was going on about cooking oil and saran wrap at one point. Mom: Who IS this guy??) Tina's show was fantastic, worth every dime and more. Keep in mind though the diversity of Tina's audience, and me with that pixie haircut? I was getting a lot of looks from the other side of the fence. Mom: "You need to grow your hair back out." I just laugh about that.
Somewhere around in here I rented The Who's "Tommy" just to watch Tina as "The Acid Queen." Yikes. Did she just pull Roger Daltry up a flight of stairs? (View at your own discretion. Cheesy now, yet still disturbing.)
1995: Pierce Brosnan became the new James Bond. The first film would be "Goldeneye" and oh wow! Tina is singing the theme song! But...it's not one of the better Bond songs. Not for me anyway. I was a little disappointed. Oh well.
More years went by. Tina moved to Switzerland. She remarried. I remember an article about how she didn't attend her mother's funeral in 1999, with a good enough reason I suppose; she didn't want her fame to detract from her mother; but I found that sad. Part of me felt like maybe Tina had become a little too full of herself, but I've never been a world-famous superstar, or one of the top-selling female artists of all time, so what do I know.
I'm certainly glad she was though.
With the Groovetones, we did her version of "Honky Tonk Woman."
We also would do "Steamy Windows" every once in a while. I always wanted to do "Love Thing", from the Simply the Best album.
I've sung along with "River Deep, Mountain High" on more than one occasion; I don't know how you pull that off without a full orchestra. I know the "Proud Mary" dance better than "Thriller".
And I'll always remember when Dr. (Mr.) Rye told me not to stand like Tina Turner when I was conducting. That advice didn't work. It's a learned thing because I still do it. Sorry not sorry.
I must go see the Tina musical at some point. I missed it at Memphis a little while back.
Tina was a big part of my adolescence, even though I'd always known who she was since I was little girl. She was legendary. Truly a Comeback Queen in so many ways. She's why I'm not afraid to keep trying "new" things in my life. Age is just a number. Even in her 80s she looked as if she hadn't aged a day. Good genes, y'all. And all that dancing, I'm sure. I'd heard when she'd had stomach cancer and was sorry to hear that.
I'm very sorry she's gone. This one hurts. Rock on and rest well, Anna Mae. Take care of my little girl up there, because her mama loved you and and was inspired by you. I wouldn't be who I am today without either of you. Show her how to continue to be a Queen.
I don't have much to update, except that we've made it through another year as mothers, grandmothers, etc.
Cheers to all. Enjoy!
In honor of Mother's Day, I'm posting the article I wrote that appeared in HER magazine, May 2009 (back story - it has been edited):
Good day, Younglings. Mother's Day is Sunday, May 14. And that's why this blog gets re-posted somewhere on social media EVERY YEAR since its original publication.
Read on, Padawans, and enlightened you will be:
OH! I AM MY MOTHER!
Oh, yes! I definitely am! And that’s perfectly okay with me.
People have always considered me a “chip off the ol’ block.” Some women would have flames bursting from their eyes if anyone told them this, but not me. My mom is funny, beautiful, and doesn’t take a lot of crap from anybody. I for sure got the funny part, because if I can make people laugh, I’ve done my good deed for the day. I’m still working on the beautiful part. That always took some work, because my mother couldn’t get me to wear a dress or makeup without great gnashing of teeth. She’s been accused of dressing up to clean house. I’m accused of having too many dresses and not wearing any of them.
When I got married, I instantly became the mother of four. Then there was a fifth, but that's another story for another time. I helped raised two of them on an everyday basis: girls, age six and nine at the time. I skipped colic, diapers, and potty training and went straight to slumber parties and tubes of lipstick left in the pocket of a pair of pants that got put into the dryer.
After a month went by, I called my mother and said, “I apologize for everything I’ve ever done.” I was in my late twenties, so that covered a lot of ground.
All five of these children are grown now; four have children of their own. This made me a grandmother at 31. (I could insert one of those shock emojis here, but I’ll refrain.) It wasn’t until I started hanging with the grandkids that I really noticed how much I was saying things like, “Scat, Tom!” when someone sneezed. I haven’t started calling everyone “shug” yet, but that might be a future endeavor.
I was standing in line at the local discount shopping mecca noticing the covers of women’s magazines, and thought, “Gee! I knew that in the fifth grade!” How? Because my mother told me. She knows everything, like the names of obscure actors all the way back to the 1930s. My children now ask me, “Who’s that?” when old black and white films turn up on services that stream old movies, like Tubi and Freevee. Nine times out of ten, I know exactly who they are, thanks to excellent maternal guidance.
My mom and I definitely have different musical tastes, although she did think some of Poison’s tunes were kinda catchy. (I was a teenager in the 80s, so...) Without her, I wouldn’t have Frankie Laine and Andy Williams on my Spotify "liked" songs list, right alongside Black Sabbath and Metallica. “The Theme for Rawhide” coming on right after “Iron Man” upsets the passengers in my car somewhat, but you know what? I really don’t care. “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin…”
My mother loves to read, and I remember frequent trips to the library as a child. She introduced me to Stephen King, and we both had extreme fears of Plymouth automobiles for a while. (Remember Christine?) I don’t know if that explains my sister’s avid interest in the film version of Cujo, but oh, well. If I had time, I’d follow Mom’s lead and join a book club, but I don’t think “Building Online Communities: Effective Strategies for the Virtual Classroom” is on Oprah’s reading list.
Mother-daughter relationships are complicated. Every woman knows this. Especially if they survived their teenage years and still have both arms and legs. Several films have captured the dynamic: Terms of Endearment, Postcards from the Edge, Steel Magnolias, and Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. (Hmm…three of those starred Shirley MacLaine. Wonder what that means?) Some women strive to be like their mothers, others…not so much. Who knows how the Kardashian's offspring will turn out. We won’t even mention Joan Crawford or the Octo-Mom. Maybe Shirley MacLaine could step in and line up everybody’s chakras.
I learned an entirely new facet of motherhood in 2021 when I lost one of my daughters, my youngest. There are no words to describe the devastation and the eventual emptiness the loss of a child can leave behind. I've known mothers who have lived this experience and now I fully understand. It's not a club one wants to belong to, nor is it a club that seeks new members. We'd rather you didn't join. Even though I wasn't there at the very beginning of her journey, I was there to prepare her for her final journey, that she was radiant, that she would "always be young, always be beautiful." That daughter was also a mother, and now as I watch her sons grow up without her, and remember my last moments with her, I realize that I, too, inspired her to say, "Oh, I am my mother!"
In closing, regardless of whatever may have happened between birth and the day we looked at a stray digital photo and said, “Oh, wait! That’s a picture of ME! I thought it was my mom!,” one thing is certain: We are all shaped into who we are as women because of our mothers, no matter what the relationship may be. Some of us have spent every day of our lives with our mothers. Others were adopted, or separated from their mothers due to divorce or death or other circumstances. Be proud of those traits you’ve picked up, either consciously or unconsciously, and remember those special women on their day this month. Without them, you wouldn’t be reading (or listening to) this column, and I wouldn’t be writing it!
THANKS TO ALL THOSE MOTHERS OUT THERE!! YOU ARE LOVED!!
