Happiest of Merries

One Single Yesterday

KellyWe’ve all been here before. More than we want to remember or need to count. Every time is etched into each of of our hearts. We’re too young to have lost so many of the ones we loved the best.

How many times have we said to ourselves – to each other – “I need to call my friend, it’s been too long.”

Last Wednesday night was the last time time I said that about Kelly. But it wasn’t the first.

We had a falling out three years ago and the fact that I never made that one stupid call that would’ve mended a fifteen year friendship will always be one of the greatest regrets of my life.

I’ve always believed that letting this all out in public would be a way of stealing the limelight that belonged to the friend we were saying good-bye to. But there ain’t no one ever gonna steal Kelly Marquardt’s limelight.

I remember the first time I saw her on stage at the Bluegrass Bash in Mountain – 1993? 94? – I wasn’t shivering from having been standing in the drizzle for the past three hours, it was from watching her on that stage, belting out “Me & Bobby McGee” in that incredible fucking voice that rivaled Janis’s in every way. I wanted to know why the hell she was HERE. In the middle of NOWHERE. I wanted to know why she wasn’t somewhere doing something with that voice.

Gobsmacked. Her voice literally gutted me. That first time and every time I ever heard her sing, I would stand with my mouth hanging open, amazed that she was OURS.

Love her or hate her, Kelly Marquardt was a force to be reckoned with – life with her was ALL or NOTHING. You played by her rules or you were welcome to take your toys and go the fuck home.

She was stubborn and bullheaded and God help anybody who questioned her decisions or choices.

Kelly had a “me against the world” attitude that served her well, that kept her insecure and soft side hidden, but if you didn’t know her it was easy to think that she was nothing but a stone bitch.

Her attitude could keep you from seeing her utterly screwy sense of humor and it was meant to keep you from knowing that she could be vulnerable.

Those that knew her knew the “bitch” was just a masquerade, her way of taking care of herself and her son.

For many years she was, to me, a kind of royalty. And every time I was lucky enough to spend time with her was a treasure to me. I can remember sitting in her living room, playing Scattergories and thinking “OMG, this is Kelly Marquardt’s HOUSE!”

Over the years we got to be close, and being the hardheaded stubborn women we both were – we ARGUED.

Lord, we ARGUED. We could clear a bar in a matter of minutes when we got into it.

There were days that we argued in the morning, but come noon, we’d be hoisting 1800 and laughing our asses off. By the end of the day, whatever we’d been arguing about had been forgotten or fixed or dismissed as trivial.

After two years together we worked like a well oiled machine and she was only one of three people who could EVER finish my sentences for me or look at me and know what I was thinking.

She was our star – our fucking meteor – she may never have risen higher than Wisconsin’s heavens, but that only ensures that we’ll never have to share her with anyone else.

She will ALWAYS be ours.

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, Kel. I’m sorry I never made that call and I hope you find what you were looking for.

Well Fuck It …

I’ve been up ten minutes and I am already pissed off first, here’s the assHOLE in San Antonio:

Butch Armstrong said the fence has helped to buffer the sound between the school and his home [ … ], a short street running behind the schoolyard, but noise is still a problem. He would like the district to change a traffic pattern that has a long line of cars dropping off and retrieving children at the rear of the school and to monitor the property so community members do not use the school grounds on nights and weekends.

[ … ]

According to a Universal City police report, Armstrong told an officer that “police, fire, ambulances and the USAF training jets are not unreasonable, but the noise coming from the elementary school was.”


And this, well this is just quite possibly one of the stupidest things EVER.

And allergies?  Yes, allergies can kiss my FAT ass.

ERM … that would be MY allergies, NOT Malia’s allergies.