So attending this festival was a no-brainer. I put it on my calendar this time last year after I realized (to my dismay) that I had missed it.
A quick drive across the Mighty Mississippi, and I was in your thriving metropolis.
“Thriving.”
Granted, it was the first day of the festival, but I assumed there would be more.
More of everything, but especially HORSERADISH.
I saw more on the drive in than I did at the festival!
This was the ONLY VENDOR selling horseradish products:
And this was the only one with plants:
You know what the festival DID have, though?
Funnel cakes and corn dogsTurkey legs and tractors
As well it should.
It also had interesting information about the spicy root.
And town info.
Tom Petty night! I might be back for Rockabilly.
Still, I was … underwhelmed. I was in and out in fewer than 30 minutes.
Maybe I just needed to schedule my visit around the Root Toss or the Bloody Mary Contest or Root Grinding. In that case, I apologize for judging you harshly.
It may or may not be a surprise, but Dominic made it to and through graduation.
During COVID, he just checked out of school. (Let’s be honest: He wasn’t exactly a star student before COVID either.) He just wouldn’t turn things in. He’d procrastinate until the very end then scrape by.
“So what are his plans now?”
Many, many people have asked. If I had a dollar for every time … well, you know.
I understand that it comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but I really am tired of saying, “I don’t know.”
I don’t know because Dominic doesn’t know.
He’s in teenage limbo where he has not yet found his passion and purpose.
I always knew what I wanted to do. I’ve always had a plan. I am not the kind of person who drifts through life.
But some people are, and that’s fine. He’s one of them. I’m not trying to impose my will on him.
He might work for a year.
He might go to college.
He might go into the military.
His friends know what they are going to do, and that adds pressure.
He’ll figure it out. The frontal lobe is still developing.
In the meantime, at least he’s passed this milestone. I’m proud of him.
And I’m as interested as everyone else in what’s next.
I hate that you experienced a loss. I hate that you had to cancel your trip to Atlanta for Brian’s birthday celebration, and thus the stay you booked in my Airbnb. But instead of reselling the wristbands, you (amazingly) sent them to me.
I will be honest here: I had never been to a multistage music festival.
I really didn’t know what to expect, besides lots of music and people.
Lovejoy on the main stage: Peachtree.Here’s Spacey Jane at the Piedmont Stage.Illuminati Hotties at the Criminal Records Stage.
And among 40K people, what is the chance I would run into someone I know?
Very high, apparently.
Look: It’s Renee and Brian! Renee and I worked together in Atlanta.The swanky wristband had many perks.
One of the biggest perks to me was the use of air-conditioned bathrooms in an RV-type structure. No porta potty for this lady!
Another perk: Free beer and water.
You know what else was free? People watching.
Let me say that I have mad respect for people wearing whatever the hell they want to wear.
Unlike this brave girl, however, I prefer to keep my bum covered unless I’m at the beach. And even then not so much.
I enjoyed seeing a medley of concert and other kinds of T-shirts. This one was my favorite:
I also loved that parents brought their older children (12-16 or so). As someone who indoctrinated exposed her children to music early on, I approve. (My kids’ first concert was The Police.)
Jennifer and I packed in as many bands as we could.
Be Your Own PetCypress HillRickshaw Billie’s Burger PatrolJoey Valence & BraeThe Front BottomsTrash Panda
All put on a good show. And I know most people were there to see Muse, The Lumineers, Hozier and The Killers.
People love The Killers.
But I was there to see two artists:
Peaches, in all her weird envelope-pushing glory (Yes, that’s an outfit featuring many breasts)And Tenacious D
Those two made the festival worth it for me.
Though I’m not a fan of crowds, everyone was well-behaved.
We had a great time!
So thank you for your generosity.
I hope you will be able to make the trip next year. And if you do, I owe you a deep discount on your stay.
Yes, that’s a windmill. In the middle of St. Louis. With a biergarten.And taxidermy.Taxidermy aplenty.Plus a massive fireplace.And murals.And a chandelier in a really strange place upstairs.Along with a display case of sharp things.And a vanity?!?And whatever this horrifying effigy is.
Naturally, I loved it. I’ve been meaning to go, and I finally got the chance.
I’ll be back in writing action again soon, I hope.
There’s so much whacking with the stick about your person. And this is not only allowed, but encouraged.
And pushing is OK too.
I found this out when someone on the other team shoved Gideon and sent him flying on the field in front of me. Home and Away were sitting on the same side of the bleachers, and I heard someone say, “Good push.”
I nearly lost my Mom mind, but realized I would be sorely outnumbered.
I yelled down, “Are you OK?”
Gideon, you yelled, “Yeah.”
Then the people behind me clapped for you when you got up.
I got verklempt when you ran over to your team on the other side and you, Dominic, hugged him like a good big brother should.
Even though your team lost the game, it was a nice day outside, great to see you two in action, and I’m learning new things. All of those are good.
Sea of drunk, rowdy people? Check.Interesting outfits? Check.People making questionable choices? Check.Evidence of a “good time” everywhere? Check.Too much of a good time very early in the day? Check.No personal space? Check.
The only thing different is that St. Louis had a parade with actual floats (not politicians in convertibles).
Though I won’t be able to experience St. Pat’s with you this year, you clearly are in my thoughts.
During my conversation with my father, he told me that he didn’t actually live at the address where I sent the letter. His ex-wife, Jan, still lives there with her son, my half-brother Brad. (They also have a daughter, Erin, my half sister.) Jan opened the letter, shared it with Brad, and he shared with David.
(After I asked Jan* about this part of the story, she said that when Brad called David, David talked about his crazy day. Brad said, “Dad, it’s about to get a whole lot crazier.”)
David now lives in Long Island in an apartment off my uncle’s house. (The apartment used to be my uncle’s dental office.)
Y’all. I mean. Can you IMAGINE Jan’s reaction? Brad’s? David’s?
I might have had to take some time to process, but David called me within 24 hours.
The call consisted of high-level catch-up, as you might expect. He seemed happy to know about me.
And Jan reached out to me on Facebook to welcome me to the family.
And Brad texted me to start a conversation.
How lovely is that?
David and I started talking regularly, and we decided we would meet when I visited New York for my annual birthday trip in December.
I flew into La Guardia and rented a car as the LIRR train schedule did not cooperate.
Brad: Have a good time! Me: Thanks. I'm on my way. Nervous. Brad: So is he!
David was waiting on his porch when I pulled up. He said he felt like a kid at Christmas. I did too. (Add some flop sweat that Santa doesn’t usually get.)
He had a present for me:
I suddenly became very aware of my nasolacrimal ducts. Why? When I met Kathy, she gave me a present.
It was a gift David had given to her for her birthday when they were dating. She kept it all these years because it was the one thing that connected the three of us. And I had told him about it.
Oh Lord: There’s something in my eye. Hang on.
OK. Proceeding.
He took me to the main house to meet my Uncle Terry and Aunt Rosemary.
As it turns out, they and their family and David spent plenty of time in Savannah because they have a place in Hilton Head. Again, I could have run into them AT ANY POINT and not known about our connection.
Also, I would be staying the night in Uncle Terry and Aunt Rosemary’s house.
Y’ALL. These people JUST met me. I am a stranger. So this tells you a little something about how my existence was received.
The four of us went out to dinner and had a wonderful time. When we got back, David brought out a cake for my birthday.
I lost it (but tried not to).
He got me an ice cream cake (Carvel FTW!) without even KNOWING I am not a fan of regular cake.
It was … a lot. (I know I keep saying it, but cut me some slack. It IS a lot!)
The next day, we went on a drive to key places of interest for him and the family.
We laughed. We argued good naturedly. We got to know each other.
As we were watching the sea lion show, I thought about how completely bizarre it was to be there with him. This is the kind of things dads do with their daughters when daughters are children. But here we were, making up for lost time.
Oh look: My lacrimal sac is acting up again. One moment.
I’m back.
It was bone-chillingly cold. My father doesn’t have any body fat (one area where I did NOT get his genes), so we didn’t linger at the lions.
We went back to his place to continue chatting. Before long, it was time for me to head into the city for the rest of the birthday trip.
I had plenty of thoughts to keep me occupied on the drive, along with a debrief phone call from a blogger friend.
The story continues, as promised. (If you are new here and need a recap, read Part 1 and Part 2.)
My birth mother Kathy and I started chatting weekly on the phone. And as you know, that’s a big deal for me. (Why do I hate talking on the phone so much?)
Topics? Large: I learned my birth father’s full name. Small: I learned we like our eggs the same way. (So that’s where I got it!)
She told me about all the family I had in the St. Louis area. You’ll remember I mentioned my mom Jeanne was from Missouri. Well, I spent my childhood visiting relatives all over the state: Kansas City, Jefferson City and also St. Louis. My favorite aunt and uncle lived in Hazelwood, Missouri — 25 minutes from my current home and 15 minutes from where Kathy lives.
It’s bizarre to think that I could have passed a member of my birth family in the grocery store.
Weird and wonderful, to say the least.
On one of our calls, I mentioned I had a dream that I had driven to St. Louis to see her. She said she did want to meet me. We started planning for Memorial Day weekend.
Y’all, this was … something. Talking on the phone was one thing. Actually meeting her was another.
She picked me up at the St. Louis airport. Her first words to me were these:
Thanks for bringing me the gift of time with new family this year. First Christmas with birth family on mom’s side. It was everything I hoped it would be and more.
Added bonus for 2022: Meeting birth father, David.
Thank you for that too. It’s plenty to process (and write about), so today I’ll just be thankful.
Observe and report 