My Dearest Sister (In Law) - March 18, 2020

Dearest Sister-In-Law, (S.I.L. as I fondly refer to you)

I take pen in hand to write to you, as a night of revelry, dancing, and drink prove to be too much for my husband’s delicate constitution. Whomever said that women are the weaker sex has never worn a corset for even an hour or challenged an Irish lass to a rousing game of "Beer Pong" on St. Patrick's Day". I'm sure he will rise on the morro's morn as right a G# belongs in a C Augmented Chord and Mr. Jamison's curse will be gone.

I pray this letter finds you and your family well on this 5th day of Coronacation and trust that you are abiding within this new social distancing law.

These do seem like troubling times and the quarantine could be a month of Sundays but your brother and I are finding new ways to entertain each other and finally have some fizzing time to spend together.

This is nothing new to us as our busy schedules have been hitherto keeping us at a social distance for years.

It’s nice to finally get to know the dash-fire man I married some odd 20 years ago.
Me thinks he is finally privy to the fact that the Irish lass he married is a bit “Off One’s Chump”. Please know I am finding folly with this statement and laughing out loud (however softly as to not rouse my husband)

Last night we celebrated my heritage and my Uncle Patty’s Day with some fresh vegetables from the garden scattered upon flat bread (which is queerly called pizza and hails from County Naples) and of course threw back a few goblets of Scandal Water.

Keeping with the law of sanitizing, your brother and I have taken to washing our hands most frequently. He washes mine and I wash his. Another fun task we have learned to do together. Our house is also spotless. As I swept the kitchen floor yesterday, surprised there was not a crumb to be lifted, your brother reminded me that I just swept the floor not hours before. Needless to say – our home is clean and ready for visitors. Visitors that ne’er arrive.

You and I both being of the musical ilk, I imagine you are biding your time within the confines of your home playing music with that handsome husband of yours. I, often find myself wandering alone to the parlor to sit down at the piano to play the classics. Bach, Beethoven and Beatles. Because of the social distancing and your brother not allowing anyone in our home, I am sadly playing for no one’s ears but myself and your brother. Although after sitting down to play, I quickly notice, thru the corner of my eye, that he slowly saunters off to his study and quietly closes the door.

I query. . . if a piano is played in the forest with no one listening, is it still entertaining?

In closing, stay healthy and clean yourself often.

Affectionately yours,

Your sister-in-law,
S.I.L.

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Julie Dolan is an actress, musician and favorite Irish wife/Las Vegas Showgirl. We were thrilled the day she married my brother.
Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

#COVID19  #LonGowan  #MyDearestSister #Julie Dolan

My Dearest Sister - March 17, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

News from the North is grim, on this, the 4th day of Coronacation. San Francisco is to be shut down for a fortnight and seven. The taverns, pubs, and public halls all closed on this, St. Patrick’s Day. Sad times indeed. I fear we shall share the same fate soon.

This morning was again gloomy. I saw no earthly reason to rise, save that I may not get the best of sleep tonight, so I did.

I managed some menial chores, but nothing that gave me a sense of true purpose. But then, by God’s good graces, the clouds broke and once again the sun returned along with my spirits. As you could imagine, I was off to wake snakes!

I cleared the second garden, which was no small task and prepared the soil for sowing tomorrow. I did manage to get more beans in the first garden. Our summers are so dreadfully hot that I fear that they may up and wilt by mid-June. I will enjoy the spoils as long as the earth provides.

I’ve decided to plant some Italian squash in containers. Perhaps it is the solitude that attracts me to this whimsical flight of horticulture, but social norms be damned! I shall stake my squash! I write you letting you know that I am prone on the floor in audible laughter, so you know that I too see the silliness of my folly, lest you think me an absolute fool.

Your Sister-in-Law, being of Irish persuasion, has declared that this is her evening and she shall command what the evening will hold! I was ollydoddled to find that there was not to be corn beef, boiled cabbage, soda bread, and potatoes for the evening meal, but instead, oven-roasted flatbread, hummus, and mixed vegetable salad with balsamic vinaigrette! If I live long enough to see the return of the Good Lord himself, I will still be young enough to be surprised by that woman.

I must take leave. Julie has opened the whiskey and ihas begun to pour.. I must make the toast… there are still some traditions that even your sister-in-law would not sweep aside.

I do hope this letter finds you and your handsome husband well. Our kindest salutations to your boys

With our deepest love,

Your Brother and your Sister-in-Law.

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Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

#COVID19  #LonGowan  #MyDearestSister

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My Dearest Sister - March 16, 2020

My dearest Sister,

I hope your spirits remain high and that you find the current isolation agreeable. I know it must be trying, but, as always, you will make the best of it.

Since my last correspondence things have been humorously topsy-turvy. Why, just last night, in a fit of whimsy, your sister-in-law pronounced it “Taco Tuesday!”… On The Good Lord’s Day, non the less! I do not know what has gotten into that women. It is only day 3 of Coronacation and I pray she has not already succumbed to “cabin fever”. I tell you; I openly laugh aloud as I write that so that you may know it to be a joke.

What is not a joke is this gloomy weather. The rains have spent the long part of the day over the southern half of the Golden State. It is much perplexing. Though it is good for the garden, it does little to brighten my mood. Why does one come here, if not for the weather?

I found myself by the fire this morning, thinking of our dearest departed Bosco. It brought a melancholy over me. I do miss him so, even after O these many months. I’m not sure if I can bring myself to bring another into the house. He was a scoundrel, for sure, but of the finest degree.

I found time to harvest citrus this morn and have enclosed a photograph. You can’t tell from the image, but they are the brightest orange. I wrote to a friend that “scurvy shall have no place in this abode!”. Again, I tell you; I openly laugh aloud as I write that so that you may know it to be a joke.

We are being told that pubs and Inns shall be shuttered soon. I find this whole business a bit like picking one’s own poison, don’t you? One is a slow dreary lonely potion served in one’s own bed, the other, has French Fries and a charming barmaid.

I did find an application for Julie that allows her to simulate a synthesizer. It is very amusing, although, I must confess, I find the noise most grating and enjoyable, at the same time. Much like a penny whistle in that regard, I suppose.

As always, please give our best to your beloved husband and your magnificent boys.

Much Love and warmest regards,

Your Brother and your Sister-in-Law.

___________________________________________________

Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

#COVID19  #LonGowan  #MyDearestSister

Eight is less than Ten

People are losing their freaking minds. I go to the store and manage to score a dozen eggs, some chicken, and yogurt. Bonus find - a couple of pairs of shoe laces and a set of fake mustaches off the clearance rack! I look over and realize the lines are crazy long at most of the registers, but lines for wine and beer are empty. Nothing to do but grab a box of wine and head to the check-out. I ask the cashier if it's OK to check-out everything here and he says, "Sure, as long as you have 10 items or less."
A guy comes over behind me, plunks down his 2 cans of Coors and says loudly, "You can check out all that stuff here?!"
"Yup, says I, "As long as it's no more than 10 items."
"Harumph," he harumphs. "You sure that's only 10?"
"I'm sure," I say counting again to be sure.
As I'm picking up my bags, he asks the cashier, "How many things did she have? Can you see it on there?"
"No," says the poor kid, just wanting to do his job.
Oh for god's sake.
"This seems to be really important to you," I say, turning around and pulling out my receipt. "Here, let's count them up together - one, two, three..."
"No, no no," he says, backing up.
"Four, five, six, seven..."
"Really, it's OK."
"Oh yeah, and the wine - EIGHT! Eight items. Less than 10. We good?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "You have a good afternoon."
"You too," I say sweetly with every cell of my Southern DNA lighting up that certain smile that is a terrifying mixture of controlled fury and contempt with a dash of pity for the intended recipient. Bless his heart, he never saw it coming.

My Dearest Sister - March 15, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to you on this second day of our self-imposed social distancing to tell you that we are faring well. Your sister-in-law, was able to carry on this morning, as usual. I do not need to tell of the resilience of the woman I married. After I arose this morning, sure as the rooster will crow from the fence post, my morning coffee was served. I believe it to be her hardy Irish heritage that allows her to forge ahead in such troubling times.

As for me, this illness that has grasped our Union has me bothered. With every passing hour there is new information. One-hour passes, it is likened to a cold. The next hour passes, it is portrayed as if it is taken from the darkest passages of The Good Lord’s Book. It does appear that the more information becomes available, the more apparent it is that we know very little. I fear I will not be sleeping well at night for some time.

Today it had my nerves in knots, so I took the time to start the garden, as that has proven, in the past, to be good for my constitution. I am pleased to let you know that when I went to turn the soil, I found that last year’s beans had taken it upon themselves to sprout! I believe that with this weather, we will be enjoying the fruits of the harvest as early as May.

Supplies are good here. Coming from snow country it must be in my breeding to have plenty of supplies on hand. We shall not run short or be for wanting. I have been assured by the Governor and by Mr. Kroger, the local grocer, that there is no need to panic, supply lines are well intact.

Tonight, I believe we shall sit by the fire, Julie and I, and count our blessings, for we have our home, our health, each other, and a joint Netflix account.

I did hear that others are not faring as well. News came to us that in one country, things are so bad, people have taken to the streets and balconies to play accordions! Dear God, I hope it never comes to that here.

Please give our warmest affection to your wonderful husband and our darling Nephews,

With love, Your Brother and sister in law, Lon and Julie
__________________________________________________________

___________________________________________________

Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

#COVID19  #LonGowan  #MyDearestSister

Don't Touch Your Face Tour 2020

Home from our not-tour with Coracree. We were almost to North Caroline when all the venues cancelled on us due to the dreaded COVID-19. We think a temporary band name change is in order. This is the commemorative T-shirt I would make if we had two nickels to rub together.

Super Bowl Halftime 2020

Maybe the Superbowl isn't your thing (it's not mine, either), but the halftime show was incredible this year. Watching two powerful women take command of the stage, the crowd, and the all-too-brief moment to deliver an unmistakeable cross-cultural message was stunning. Yes it was sexualized, but haven't all traditional dance forms performed by women been sexualized? Belly-dancing too erotic for you? Then you don't know much about belly-dancing. Twerking makes you clutch your pearls and reach for the remote? Then it's time to google the West African dance mapouka. Pole dancing make you think "stripper" and not "athlete"? Then you you know zilch about pole dancing. WTF was that thing Shakira did with her tongue? Look up Arabic zaghrouta. And if the more subtle cultural references zipped by, you couldn't miss the young girls singing from cages referencing our border tragedy while J. Lo sang "Born in the USA" wrapped in a Puerto Rican flag. Latin, African, Middle Eastern dance references wrapped in an incredibly designed package performed by SO MANY WOMEN. I am in total awe of what these two performers did with their 15 minutes, influence, talent, and hard work.

https://youtu.be/pILCn6VO_RU

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We made this!

When I write tunes I often hear a whole score in my head - variations, harmonies, counterpoint. I don't know how to write all of that out in musical notation, but I do know how it SHOULD sound.

And then along comes a band who gets it - by intuition and gentle coaching - there are the tunes I wrote the way they were meant to be played! I was there (and playing) when we recorded this, but it wasn't until we got the masters back that I realized this was what I wanted to hear when I composed them! The over-the-top raggity Big Phat Ragg, the sweetly sentimental Cote a Cote, the completely unexpected bluesy Tampico Road. I actually wept a little when I heard the studio recordings and spent a moment in gratitude for the gift of musicians who get me.

You should buy our CD - it's really GOOD!  https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/livewire7

Winterberry

I was in a LOOOOONG line at the post office today and when I finally got near the window, the woman in front of me asks for Christmas stamps.

The cashier says, "Well we have these wreaths and the winterberry ones. I guess they're trying to make EVERYONE happy," and rolls her eyes so hard she practically had to catch her balance. 

Ruh-roh. I brace myself for an agreement from the customer and the expected ignorant banter about the War on Christmas, but she just smiled sweetly and said, "I like that. I'll take the winterberry." Her tone was so perfectly happy and stress-free that there was no way to take it as judgmental or critical. She had completely ignored the cashier's exasperation and had chosen to express delight and pleasure. It was beautiful.

And then it was my turn. We sorted the parcels and the PO clerk asked, "Do you need any stamps?"
"As a matter of fact I do - I'll take the Winterberry."

"Happy Holidays," she says, without eye-rolling or even a trace of sarcasm.

"Happy Holidays to you too," I reply, thinking maybe, just maybe, a little bit of kindness had crept across the counter, softened a cynical heart, and made the day brighter for both of us and the next people we met.

Watch Where You're Going

"Crap",  I say as I hastily brush out my wobbly inked line and impatiently wait for the paint to dry before trying again. I watch, envious of my painting partner who can swoosh out a perfect line without a glitch first time and every time. We're deep into another late-night work call painting a set for a local theater, running low on coffee, and I am burning out.
"How the hell do you do that?" I demand. "It's not natural."
"Easy," he says, "Watch where you're going, not where you've been."  

And that is how one ridiculously simple piece of painterly advice not only improved my craft, but became an integral part of my personal philosophy. Feeling stuck on a decision? Hung up on a grudge? Shame spiraling a thoughtless comment??

"Watch where you're going, not where you've been."

I'll be pounding on a tune trying to hammer it into memory and faltering over that one stubborn phrase when, "Watch where you're going, not where you've been." floats across the page. A deep breath and I try again.

I still pause to rummage around in the past - it's only natural, after all. All night angsting over regrets and mistakes and things left unsaid. Tenderly nursing old wounds and griefs, unsure if this hurting is healing or harming. Sometimes I look back and all I see are the scars, but scars are what hold the healthy bits together, so I bless them one by one for keeping me whole. After I get my fill, I turn my gaze ahead before taking another step.

"Watch where you're going, not where you've been."