The Pope of Posters and the King of the Roadhouse
Wow. That was something.
Storms. The Lincoln Highway. Iowa's rolling green fields. Byron's. Kevin Gordon Trio. Rescues. And through it all, Mark Gerking.
Oftentimes, when I think of Mark, I hear my friend Cate's voice, when Kevin Welch introduced the song we requested for Mark at a house concert here long ago, and Cate said, "Maaaarrrrrk!" I just feel that voice in me, full of love and wishing he were here. I thought so often of all the friends that weren't able to be there.
It was a hell of a weekend, wait, was it a weekend? Maybe not, but you know what I mean. Regardless, Mark was with us the whole time.
I'll write about our first day of travel later. On Monday we woke up in Fort Dodge in motel that was fine but something about the whole place made me decide to bring Joe (my shillelagh) inside rather than leave him in the car. We found a place for breakfast. It was pretty good, we rated it an 8. Waitress was great but something was slightly off. Ernie and I blamed the woman that seated us. Hash browns were nice and crispy, sausage was excellent, eggs ok.
Then we did some wandering as we wended our way toward Byron's. We checked into our motel in Pocahontas a bit early, ran into Van and chatted a bit. Then we tried to relax and rest a bit before we headed straight down the road to Byron's in Pomeroy.
I had brought the whole family of mobility aids, Joe, the aforementioned shillelagh, Little Guy, the old school walker, and Big Red, the rollator. I dithered and dithered about who to use. I wanted to go with Joe but I was just too off balance and Big Red is just, well, too big. So I went with Little Guy because at least he folds up. I had studied photographs of Byron's and knew it had two steps but generally I can do a few steps without TOO much of a problem.
I was wrong.
Ernie pulled the door open for me and took my walker as he does when I am doing steps. I put my foot on the step and knew I couldn't do it. I tried grabbing onto the edge of the door to help. No go. Ernie shut the door and tried to figure out how to help me. I was just frozen at that point. He opened the door again and although rationally I know that not everybody in the packed bar turned and looked at us, it sure felt like it. I tried again but I just couldn't manage it. Suddenly there were two guys, on either side of me, "You need a little help? We gotcha." They made sure I was comfortable with the way they were holding me and they just popped me up into the bar. Once they knew I was ok they just disappeared. I think I thanked them but I was so flustered that I couldn't even remember who had helped me. We got to our table where Lisa and some other friends (who were delightful by the way) of Van's were. I gratefully sank into my chair. Ernie folded up Little Guy and then I got a big hug from Byron (who I had never met before in person) before he took my Little Guy and tucked him away. Man, oh man, life is unexpected, but very often good.
Byron's? Well, it lives up to its legendary status. It was everything I could have imagined and more. In some ways, it seemed like what Sandwich Life House Concerts would be as a bar. Ok, with less Grateful Dead stuff, but just as I feel we unwittingly created a little community, Byron's felt like a strong community, an enclave if you will, of likeminded folks who love live music. It felt full of expression with no apologies. I loved it. It was so easy to imagine Mark in every spot of that place.
There were several toasts made to Mark. Byron and Kevin spoke of him lovingly. Mark just had no damned idea of how many loved him. Good Lord but we loved you Mark. And always will.
And then there's Kevin...well, the Kevin Gordon Trio to be precise. Kevin was in FULL roadhouse mode and damn it felt good. When I first met Mark he started sending me cds....and there were LOTS of Kevin Gordon (as well as a lot of Jon Dee Graham of course). Mark would have been really happy there with us and damned if I didn't feel his presence. Of course we'd never imagined going to Byron's WITHOUT Mark. I was glad that both Van and Lisa were there as there were moments that were hard. Oh, and I was pleased to meet Mark's brother as well and the folks at our table were great. And of course Byron was well, Byron. He was delightful.
Kevin just got better and better as the night wore on. Well, that's not true, he was great to begin with. Maybe I just got better and better as the night wore on. Sadly, the night came to a close and we were pretty damn tired. It had been a long two days. I got a wonderful hug from Kevin and a chance to chat. I told him I'd never seen him play with Ron Eoff before (except maybe a short set in Nashville) and that I'd found him so delightfully sleazy. Perhaps I shouldn't have had that last glass of wine but I meant it in a positive way. Kevin enthusiastically agreed so hopefully I wasn't rude. Before we left, Ernie got a chance to tell Ron that we still remembered the Jo-El Sonnier show he played at Biddy Mulligan's in Chicago long ago as one of the best shows we've ever seen (not that we could understand a work of what Jo-el said mind you). So many circles.
Byron had thoughtfully brought my walker over so as I clumped toward the front door my angels appeared. "Are you getting ready to go?" And sure enough I was down those steps in a flash. I asked him (Angel One) what his name was and he said Tyler. I thanked him but he has no idea honestly of what that meant to me. As someone who is still trying to adjust to this walker I so appreciated how quiet and gentle he was. He handled it with not just kindness and competence, but with such grace and Lord knows grace can be hard to find. In fact the next night as I pulled myself up the steps into the kitchen I started bellowing, "WHERE'S TYLER?" At least we amuse ourselves.
More seriously, thanks not just to Tyler, but to the legendary Byron himself, the Trio, the great Kevin Gordon and most of all to Mark. Most of all, Mark.
It was a glorious night.
Onward.