You're Such A Card!

HEY! Looky what I did with my friend Jen! (Go ahead. Click it.)

Las historias

I just spent a little time with my grandma. She told me of my grandpa's family's trials and tribulations in the the early thirties.

After my great-great-grandfather Max Lopez died, his wife Benedicta, who didn't speak English, was worried she wouldn't be able to hold her own with the bolios. So, although her son, my great-grandfather Emmanuel and his wife Maria were well-suited to continue the family's sharecropping business out in Rotan, Texas, Benedicta decided instead totake the advice of her husband's brother Francisco. Francisco had heard they were giving good land to people to entice them back across the border. So Benedicta and all her children, including Emmanuel, his wife Maria, and their three children, followed his advice all the way back to Mexico to seize opportunity.

Well, Francisco was half right.

They were giving away land, but it was not good.

It was totally un-farmable. Rocks and dust. And after a short time there,the monsoon rains came and flooded their homestead. The whole family had to scramble to the top of a hill with all the belongings they could carry in order to avoid being washed away.

It was around this time that Maria became pregnant with my grandfather Manuel. Maria, a US citizen who already had three children with Emmanuel: Beatrice, Alex, and Max -- all US-born -- looked around and saw that things were not great and were not getting any better. She decided she'd head back across the border when it was time to have my grandpa. Mexico was not a long-term plan as far as she was concerned.

She set out, forced to leave her husband and children behind, and went to stay with a friend of the family, who, like many during the thirties didn't have much to offer. The woman slept on a mattress placed in the bed of a covered waggon, off its wheels. She offered it to Maria during her labor. And that's how my grandfather, Manuel Lopez, was born in Del Rio, Texas, in a covered wagon.

My dad: The long and short of it...

Short story: My father is in the Burn ICU at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas, TX after suffering injuries in a fire at his home. He is very slowly recovering, and we are hopeful. My brother and sister were not home at the time, so only Dad and Asia's dog Scout were in the house. (The other two dogs were outside. Scout didn't make it.) I am here until my father improves enough that I can be certain things are on the up and up, and until I can help Asia and Forrest put the affairs of the mortgage, insurance, and other assundry red tape in some semblance of order.

Long story: http://hinshawrising.blogspot.com/

What can you do, dear friends? Just pray and hold my father and my family in soft light in your hearts.

Oh, and volunteer for the Denver Post Underground Music Showcase. It'll be fun! And a load off my mind if we can get an awesome number of people helping out. I LOVE this event. For four hours of your time, you get a pass for yourself and a friend, as well as access to the VIP parties after the event. (Read: TOTAL fun.) It's a great way to enjoy a summer weekend being a Denverite and supporter of live music! August 1st and 2nd!

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Shout out to Yancey Lee: I love you so much. I am the luckiest woman in the world to call you my husband, my lover, and my friend.

Politician, heal thyself.

Sometimes, nothing is more compelling than hearing it from the horse's mouth.

Recorded something...

Click here to launch the myspace page that hosts two covers I recorded of Hank Williams' "Can't Help It If I'm Still In Love With You" and Steve Earle's "Nothing Without You" (dedicated to my boyfriend yLee, who included the original on our wedding CD.) I'm trying to find "my voice." The Hank Williams tune is an example of just trying to sing not like I've heard the song sung by others (or myself) before. (Linda Ronstadt's belted-out version of that song is woven into the fiber of my very being. As are so many of her covers of songs.)


We recorded on May 24th. My first real day in the studio on a project of my very own. Guided by my wonderful, talented, patient friend Jim Ruberto, who produced, played lap steel on "Can't Help It" and sang and played guitar on "Nothing."
I really hope he had fun singing. He should do more of it.


Of all the truly cool things that came out of wedding singing, including getting to know and love the boys in the band and seeing some of the most amazing views of Colorado (the ones people pay for, at least), it's my friendship and with Jimmie that I count as one of the high prizes.

Putting this in a safe place

I keep coming across opportunities to refer friends to this excerpt from Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies and it finally occured to me to just stick it here so I never have to look for it again.

Carolyn Myss, the medical intuitive who writes and lectures about why people don't heal, flew to Russia a few years ago to give some lectures. Everything that could go wrong did - flights were canceled or overbooked, connections missed, her reserved room at the hotel given to someone else.

She kept trying to be a good sport, but finally, two mornings later, on the train to her conference on healing, she began to whine at the man sitting beside her about how infuriating her journey had been thus far.

It turned out that this man worked for the Dalai Lama.

And he said – gently - that they believe when a lot of things start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born - and that this something needs for you to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible.

ahhh... I love Anne Lamott for bringing this into my life.

Diner food slung, and that's a wrap!

Last weekend, I got the thrill of playing a waitress in a big undertaking for some theatre/film pals of mine. See some pics of the shoot and the project in general, along with a little writeup in The Denver Post here.

For more about Listen Productions, visite www.listenproductions.com

Cash's Healing Garden: Final numbers

I recently received word from Tess and Page Phillips about the final numbers for their fundraising efforts for the Cash Scanlon-Phillips Healing Garden at Denver Children's Hospital.

Here's an excerpt of their letter:

Well it's been one month since The Railbenders and Long Road Home played their hearts out for our garden fund. And it's been one month since all of you poured yourselves into helping us raise $ for Cash's Healing Garden. Well, most of the numbers are in and the total amount raised thus far is: over $36, 000.00 which brings the total Cash's Healing Garden fund to over $58,000.00. Page and I are overwhelmed by gratitude to all of you and your friends, neighbors, co-workers, and families who helped us to raise this huge amount of money.

I am totally overwhelmed by this amazing news. It was an incredible thing to be a part of and the experience of it kept me on a high for a week. The bands were so good and good-hearted. The audience was so supportive. I wear my sky blue t-shirt with pride and love for Tess and Page and a tiny soul I never met--and their community. They have managed to turn self-soothing and self-assuring activities into comfort and care for strangers who do not yet know they will need this garden.

It's a gesture that makes me misty-eyed everytime I think about it.

To see pictures and a write-up of the event by the Denver Post, click here.

Quoting Other People: Cherry Sours

Upon gobbling up the newly purchased cherry sours of a fellow cube-mate, we all reveled in the old-school flavor, mmmm-ing and yumming aloud in the middle of our cubicle row.

Then my friend Julie made me nearly snort masticated cherry goo through my nose when she said with a pensive look on her face, after being quite silent for a moment, "These employ new sour technology."

She remembers them being not nearly as sour. I didn't stay for further discussion. I had to sit down immediately to document her remark.

But upon further reflection, I think she may be right.

OCD Mug: Lost in a Sea of Cubicles

Okay.
It's gone.
I think I left it in the sink and now, I'm sunk.
Without my mug.
I need it.
I get super powers from it.
(Only me, not you. Get your own mug.)
It calms me.
And I'm not calm now.
Just ask Matt.
So, please, please, please.
If you see anyone with my dimpled, turquoise mug,
Call x150 and I'll come running.
You don't have to do any of the dirty work.
Just call.
And say you know where it is.
I'll take care of the rest.