Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Band Wife Notes: Element 11

Matt and I were sad to be stuck home while the rest of the band enjoyed the regional burn festival, Element 11. Unfortunately the band could not play, as they had planned, without him. Although I had put in my request for the days off months in advance, my employer decided against granting them.

I have to admit I wasn't so jealous anymore when we got the text from Glen: "Someone pulled a Cherub last night." Clarification: Someone committed suicide by fire.

Many of our friends, including Matt's bandmates, were first hand witnesses, and spent the rest of the time at the festival in shock and grieving. Band practice Sunday night was cancelled.

It didn't do any good for people still grieving for Cherub (Sean Romero) to witness a death so similar to his.

It didn't do anyone at all any good to find an insulting article online claiming the tragedy was a "Human sacrifice at a pagan festival." There were more Bible verses than anything approaching the truth in it, and many people were disgusted by the attack on innocent, grieving people and the tragic loss of a life.

I won't post that here. I made the mistake of posting it on Facebook, which only gave them more publicity, and I regret that.

But here's a link to a reputable news source:


Keene posted this painfully poetic note on Facebook:

"Try to take my friends out to have a good time at a giant festival. Then we get to see someone jump into the fire. Saw the body burn. Watched the firemen trying desperately to put out the flames. Saw the firemen and police hold up a cloth as they carried the body out in pieces.

Walked around in a daze. Stumbled upon a man sobbing bitter tears on the floor, and hugged him for hours. People everywhere trying to save a party that died with the fire. The temple, usually empty, was filled to the brim with people praying, crying, staring. The occasional laugh heard around the camp would pierce the silence painfully.

My words fail me. I cannot speak. I can barely move without flooding myself with pain and emotions and memories. I just want to sleep. I can't look my friends in the eye. The image, the music, the screams and the silence, all fill my head. Stepping in the water that drained away from the fire, and wondering how much of him was in it. Even in my dreams, the images chase me from room to room, jumping from story to story as I flee the nightmares."

We're at a loss, again.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Band practice notes

Glen seems inspired tonight. He's turned the bass up pretty loud and just jammed by himself for a bit, and the house is shaking. The fireworks outside finally stopped being a distraction, at least.

Matt has trouble getting to the band room because of the stairs, but he hobbles down on crutches and makes it work. He started using the drum stand to prop his leg up and plays sitting in his camp chair.

Not a lot of guests this particular evening. I'm glad Merideth could make it. I don't get to see her much.

They've played Carnival Asylum, The Thief, and two more from the usual set. They're working on The Space Between the Black Spot in your Eye right now. I'm liking the didgeridoo parts Adam is adding.

Matt has suggested I add a page with the band fliers. So stay tuned for that.

Friday, July 4, 2014

The Band Wife

It happened one night at Burt's Tiki Lounge in Salt Lake City, as the band showed up to play a gig. As usual, the members of the different bands would introduce each other and their plus- ones. Adam, our trombone guy, had introduced my husband, Matt, to someone when I approached. "And this," he said, gesturing toward me, "is the band wife."
Later he said that he had meant to say "Matt's wife," but somehow he slipped it up. The slip stuck.

Well, I guess it does fit, even if I only sleep with the drummer. I've shuttled the band around as needed for the past few years, hosted them at my home probably hundreds of times, served them meals, put Redmond clay on their bee stings, taken their pictures a billion times, given them vitamins and essential oil blends... ok, this is starting to sound more like "band mom."

I don't mind any of it. I never really have, unless I've had work in the morning and couldn't get the band home until 3 a.m. That doesn't happen so much anymore now that more band members have vehicles. One even has a van. That's changed a few things. But band practice is still held at my house, where we happen to have the space.

It's been a crazy three years (or whatever). We've endured some serious tragedies and setbacks, most notably with the suicide- by- fire of our dear friend and percussionist Sean Romero last year.  We've had two violinists quit, a clarinet player join, and now we have a new challenge: Matt's busted knee.

Apparently he's going to need surgery on his ACL. He's in a wheelchair now, which complicates the hell out of things. It's going to be interesting...

Show from April 2012 featuring Sean Romero on washboard and maracas, with Angela Moore on violin: