And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
I have always liked Patti Smith and I liked this. (If you click through you can watch her beautiful performance at the Nobel Prize ceremony.)
I was born in Chicago on December 30, 1946, within the vortex of a huge snowstorm. My father had to help the taxi-driver navigate Lake Shore Drive with the windows wide open, while my mother was in labor. I was a scrawny baby, and my father worked to keep me alive, holding me over a steamy washtub to help me breathe. I will think of them both when I step on the stage of the Riviera Theatre, in Chicago, on my seventieth birthday, with my band, and my son and daughter.
Ah, scrawny babies. Our grand-babies are coming along, looking better every day, responding to their parents’ steadfast love and devotion. Little girl is over 2 lbs. now and little boy is almost up to 2 lbs. They are gettin’ there.
I was sorry to hear about Carrie Fisher who died yesterday at age 60. A contemporary of mine, she reminded me of a lot of the girls I grew up with. She wasn’t much of an actress–let’s admit it, she was pretty terrible in Star Wars, but she was a funny, funny gal who had been through a lot and kept going. My heartfelt condolences go out to her mother Debbie Reynolds.
Well, I hope you are enjoying this week between Christmas and New Years. I am.
Have a great day!