for poppy...

my gramps died last night. he was taking out the trash, after a long, fun weekend, walked out of his back door and into the arms of a loving and merciful God. i've been running in a fog since five this morning, and i really just want some sleep. but i wanted to talk about my poppy, first. some of you knew him, some of you don't, but it's my blog, so here we go...

poppy was my own personal super hero. there was no one bigger, stronger, better, kinder, gentler, wiser, tougher, or more amazing than my poppy. from the time i could crawl into the cab of his pickup until i had to start nursery school, i went everywhere he did. even to construction jobs. he never talked down to me, never made me think i couldn't do just what i set out to do, never let me give up or give in. he taught me the value of a day's work, and the value of a day's pay. he taught me that if you have a job to do, do it right and be proud of your work. he taught me to treat people fairly, regardless of what color their skin was, what kind of education they had, or how much money they had in their pockets. family always came first, and even though it sometimes meant that he had to drive 80 miles one way to provide for his family, he did it. giving of your time and your resources was big for poppy. he went on two vet trips to honduras, gave away countless gobs of candy to hungry children, and brightened up the lives of everyone he visited with.

poppy could have cared less about fancy theology. God was real, Jesus was real, and both had bailed his butt out of many a pot of hot water. faith drove him, and you could feel that in his presence. poppy prayed for a list of people every morning, our family, his friends, neighbors, people from church, etc. what his prayers may have lacked in eloquence, they made up for in love and sincerity. poppy always reminded me to pray, reminded me that God was good, all the time, even when things weren't fair or ok. reminded me that the rain falls on the just and the unjust, and that the bitter comes with the sweet.

poppy always had time for a story, or a cuddle, or a word of wisdom. he was never too busy, or too tired, or too grown up to play or laugh or chat. poppy's advice was simple, direct, and never sugar-coated. he taught me to hunt and fish, how to drive, and how to tell a good story. he had beautiful blue eyes that had seen a million miles, a million plumb lines, a million pounds of concrete, the pyramids in egypt, the wailing wall in jerusalem, the beaches of mexico, and the horror of war in korea, but they still managed to laugh and twinkle everytime we sat around the table together. i think i will miss that most of all.

so, sweet poppy, enjoy your first night home. hunt big, tell my daddy i said hello. we'll all be home soon, so keep the light on, and know we love you.

mil besos--rmg

charmed life

so, in the past, oh 15 days, i have seen three famous people who's work i adore.

i took my mom to see merle haggard and bob dylan. it was an incredible show. i like merle haggard, don't get me wrong. but bob dylan sits high in my pantheon. seeing him in real life was amazing. from the minute he launched into "maggie's farm" until the last bit of reverb of "all along the watchtower", i was enthralled, entranced, fixated, mesmerized, etc. the whole rest of the world outside could have gone to hell, and i wouldn't have known a thing about it. some of you know my deep love for mr. dylan, so you can imagine that when he started singing "don't think twice, it's alright", that i cried a little bit. i love that song. it's one of those songs that speaks to me, and says something different every time. the harmonica solos were enough to send me into low orbit. and his lap steel player may well have ascended some kind of existencial plane and become a little more than a man and a little less than a god, that night--and he played a mean banjo, too. "like a rolling stone" was part of the second encore, and it was as tight and solid, light, and lovely as anything i've heard on an album, but better, because i was right there. i would have paid twice what i did to be there with my mom. it was amazing to see bob dylan, but it was twice as nice to see him with mom.

and then we saw dennis quaid. not only saw him play with his band, but saw him at gruene hall, and TOUCHED him (on the hand, and in a totally appropriate way, because he's remarried, now). that is one hot dad. and he plays a good show. and represents very well in real life. and he played "gloria" and "great balls of fire", two of my favorite songs, ever, in the whole world.

it's been a nice little run of good music, lately. the laundry monster demands to be appeased. and i have about 80 million things to do. c'est la vie, non?

mil besos--rmg