Lou Whitney and Perspective

I hate the term bucket list. I don't know why it grates on me so. The idea that experiences are achievements, the idea that if you've had x, y, and z experiences then it's o.k. to die....I know that's not what people mean but there's something about the phrase that always rubs me the wrong way. That being said, if I HAD a bucket list....one of the things on it was to go see the Skeletons play. I saw the Morells many years ago, but unless I'm forgetting (which happens more than it used to), I never saw the Skeletons. A few years ago I got the idea that we needed to go to Springfield, Missouri for a weekend with the boys. The Skeletons were playing a regular gig at that time....and I thought this would be perfect. I obsessively researched Springfield, places to go, the phenomenon of Springfield style Cashew Chicken, etc. It never happened though. Life got in the way, as it so often does....so no Lou Whitney and the Skeletons in Springfield for me. We probably went to a train museum instead. It's been a few weeks now since Lou Whitney died and that thought, the trip we never made, keeps popping into my head.

I remember when we saw the Morells at Mabels....I'm guessing 1983 because we were living in the big old white house on west Church Street...the one in which the roof always leaked and mushrooms literally grew in the bathroom. Great apartment though. Eileen decided to take me to St. Louis for my birthday...could that be right? I'm not sure, but regardless, off we went to St. Louis in her little orange Pinto, stayed at the Gateway Hotel. Lord that place was wonderful....pre-renovation with a gorgeous barber shop in the basement....amazing. Went to some club...maybe Cicero's, and did God knows what else. There was a duct taped muffler and a sexy mechanic involved. We drove back and went straight to Mabel's to see the Morells. They were incredible. I remember feeling so alive. 

I've got to remember that feeling, that feeling of absolutely being in the moment, pure joy. I've got to remember those feelings and savor them when I start feeling the Medusa snakes of worry. And I have to not feel sad about my trip not taken because there are so many I have taken.

Perspective, perspective, perspective.