Hiya. It was lovely playing for everyone in Lille. Another gig in the rain. We bring that backdrop where ever we go, it seems. Many commented on the show having been too short,
or that I seemed to have left the stage abruptly.
We weren't alotted much time, as there were many other bands playing that night and they had to keep it moving. Also, Oren's pedals failed at the beginning.The upshot was having to cut the set, so I'm sorry about that. Also, Joan was going to sit in with us on violin, on Black Acres, as she was there with Antony. Shame we didn't get to do that. There was a little confusion because Oren was playing later that night with James Chance in Roubaix, and they were afraid the times would conflict, so we ended up playing early. There was certainly no conflict though, as the Chance gig wasn't until 2 am. Speaking of which, it was quite kick ass, and Oren tore it up on the guitar. Lille was freezing cold and rainy, but the hotel was pukka, which is always a good thing. A good hotel bar/lounge can also be a fine thing. This one had piped in music, as many do, but it was odd when an english rap song came on, with the phrase 'Mother Fucker' repeated, I looked around this somewhat stuffy room for some kind of reaction, it was a lame song, but certainly in that context an ice beaker, but there was none. No one seemed to understand, or perhaps notice. All the inane wallpaper we are fed and digest in its myriad forms. I enjoy such moments of severe contrast. Or perhaps there is no contradiction there, really.

Well, here's wishing everyone happy holidays, and a beautiful and healthy New Year. May the New Year bring more Peace, more Love, and hopefully better music. xxx, jc

Hello. I've been wanting to write something here for a while, but somehow it has seemed rather daunting. On October 31, my grandmother died. She was 88. I just wanted to talk about it a bit, as she was very important to me. Not many people know, but Dee-Dee (as I so named her when I was a babe) has always been one of my biggest influences. She was the only grandparent I had ever known, and she was a truly unique and exciting person. This was not a grandmother who would knit you jumpers and bake for you, no, this was a wild woman who would teach you about the ways of the world. She would often say she had done it all, and I believe that is nearly true. She certainly burned her own path. She was wealthy and poor at diffrent times, but never gave money much importance. Though when she had it, she certainly knew how to live it up. She was married four times, to four terribly different fellows, kind of like 'divorced, be-headed, died, divorced...', only she eventually outlived them all. She was fiercely independant. She had a million eccentric tales to tell and that is her legacy. She was a long time pro-choice advocate, herself undergoing several back-alley abortions. In some ways she was very old fashioned, she very much lived in the fabled glamour of the old screen sirens, this is a woman who never washed her own hair! Even in the depression when she had to quit drama school to work two jobs to bring money home to her family, she always put a little money aside to get her hair done! She loved to travel (was famous for her sixteen! pieces of luggage on ships), she loved people, making people laugh, she loved driving, drove a big convertible, she adored men especially, was quite frank and not shy about sex and her sexual appetites, she loved words, reading, great at tough crossword puzzles and a champion scrabble player (using all her letters several times in a game was typical), she was a passionate smoker from a very young age, before it was 'acceptable' for a woman to smoke in public, and smoked almost right up to the end, but most of all she loved music. She would often say that it was a cruel trick that she loved music so much, knew all the words to the songs, and hadn't the voice to sing them. "Your mother got her father's voice, a lovely Irish tenor, and you got your mother's voice.", she said. She also loved to dance, and went to all the hot night clubs in New York back in the day. Her favorite was the Place Elegante (sp?), where they all knew her. Her friend Bill Farrell, the pianist would play her special song when she walked in the room, depending on which man she was with, he'd wink at her, as she had a different signature song with each beau. When that joint closed, she'd often go up to Harlem with Bill where he was playing a rent party or something. Anyway, many many stories. The sad thing is the story teller is now gone. I must try and remember as many of her stories as I can. She was also one tough broad. Here are some recent quotes- "Can I give you some advice? (big pause, then, like a pirate) DON'T GET OLD!" also after telling her that I love her, her reply in a grizzled voice, "not enough." From the time I was born, she adored me, so naturally I loved her back. She gave me lots of attention and confidence at a very young age. When I was three, she made it her mission to teach me how to read and she was a very patient teacher. Also from the time I was talking, before I was one, she was teaching me all the old songs, and that continued throughout my childhood, this is how I came to know many of the songs from the 20's and 30's and 40's. She also started my passion for old 78's, and I'm lucky to have many of her old records. So strange how a life just goes like that. We are all such little blips. The end was tough because she had alztheimers disease, only she didn't know it, didn' really understand it. She lived with my mother for the past two years, who took amazing care of her. Dee-Dee could be quite difficult, especially toward the end. It's painful to see someone's memories leave them like a fraying hem, unravelling it's thread. Memories are almost all that one is left with, and when that goes, there isn't much. She even forgot that she smoked. The only thing that could jog her out of her zoned out black hole was music. She loved it when we sang for her, then, it would start to come back, something vague, and smokey, something distant, but beautiful. It was intersting that she chose to go on Halloween, it was always one of her favorite holidays. She was always such a pagan. yeah, she used to get really into it, which was especially fun for us when we were kids. She donated her body to science, something she was always very firm about doing, as a long time agnostic, she also wore all her past illnesses like badges of honor and was anxious to share them with anyone that would listen to her. In the end, everyone wanted her body, yes, many medical centers are desperate for corpses. This also cuts the cost of the pricey 'death business', it's big business. We're happy to say she has finally gone to Valhalla (where the medical center we chose is.)
The same four medical students will be with her for the next two years, hopefully learning new things about alztheimers, then we get her ashes back. I miss her, but I'm so glad she is out of her misery. I will always love her and hold her so dearly to me, and am so grateful for all the kookiness she gave me.