Holy shit, how it was possible for yesterday to turn into such a gloriously bizarre pile of what the fuck I will never understand. Heading down to Portland very soon. I'll see the rest of you dinguses there.
I licked your face via proxy!
"I've been single for awhile and I have to say, it's going very well. Like... it's working out. I think I'm the one." Emily Heller.
Yea...fig, I hope you understand why I wasn't there when you woke up. I absolutely needed my own bed more than anything else today. Driving home was hell enough. Driving to Portland would have been the death of me.
Ask me again in a year or two. I need some time to process that shit. It was fucking awesome though. Weirdest and most intense show I may have seen in my entire life, and I've been fed a live worm at a concert before. That says something.
Post by Horned Gramma on Feb 25, 2013 11:16:31 GMT -8
The last couple of days have been the strangest, most complicated, most taxing and most wonderful of my entire life. It hurts so fucking bad to have to say goodbye to my dear Residents, but the show they put together for us on this tour was specifically designed to help me and my faithful Rezhead brothers let go.
The first time I ever saw them, on the Demons Dance Alone tour in 2002, the show was structured to assist the viewer in processing and accepting the terrorist attacks a year before. The Wonder of Weird tour was a love letter to their most devout followers; an acknowledgement of the enormous hole that their departure will leave in some of our lives, and a reassurance that, although they will soon be gone, their legacy will stand tall long after they have left the stage for good.
There was one song that I needed -- needed it -- and in the couple of weeks before the show I told Stormy that all I could ever ask for would be to have 'Mahogany Wood' be the last song I ever heard the Residents perform. And it was.
Friday night's show at the Neptune was the single greatest show I have ever seen. By the end of it I was turned completely inside out. I just stood there, shaking and sobbing, and when I was finally able to turn around it was to see more than a dozen of the people that I love most in this world. The Residents mean more to me than anything in this world except for my beautiful wife, and the love and support that I received from my friends is what made it possible for me to stay on my feet and make my way to the street, into a cab, and home.
It is important to me to acknowledge the tireless assistance of two of the dearest, most important people in my life. Burrito and Nadine took us into their home, allowed us to become incredibly silly into the VERY late hours (several times), and then unquestioningly transported us from Seattle to Portland, from Portland to Seattle, and then back from Seattle to Portland again as we adjusted our plans to accommodate the Residents modified tour schedule. Without them, we would have missed at least one and possibly both shows after the Residents got stuck in South Dakota on Thursday. They are amazing people; they went WAY above and beyond to make sure this thing happened. Love you dudes, so much.
For more than a decade, I have gone through life deeply concerned that the Residents would outlive me, and that I would miss the final statement that they would decide to make to cap their career. I no longer have that concern; it is a relief, but it also makes me unbearably sad. They have held me up and comforted me for so long and I don't know what I will do without them, but the image that they left us with was so beautiful and profound, such a perfect acknowledgement of the place that they occupy in my heart, that I know I'll eventually be alright.
As Randy, the Singing Resident, said just before the show closed: we just keep marching forward, putting one foot in front of the other, always moving ahead to see what comes next. That has been the philosophy which has guided the Residents from one endeavor to the next for the last four decades, and it is now the crumpled and smudged set of instructions I and my fellow Rezheads have been left to follow as the Residents -- those shadows flickering on the walls of the cave -- fade from view as the fire dwindles.