bonnie

Bonnie asked me to come along on a final leg of the Spin Doctors, Soul Asylum & Screaming Trees show as the tour was going through AZ and ending at the Greek theatre in LA. Admittedly, there's a lot of waiting around on tour and Bonnie is great at finding interesting stuff to do: we met up with Joe Henry at some gathering, we shopped at some thrift store that Tom Waits was always at, found fun stuff to eat and drink...

At, I believe, the final show of the tour, I was just off backstage sitting on a park bench left there and there's a big bushy-haired dude at the other end. When Chris Baron did a back flip at the microphone, this guy and I both erupt into amazed laughter, he looks at me and as I recognize him, I ask him if he was going to do that at one of his next shows... Well, Gene Simmons replies "uh, I don't think so..." and laughing, we both went back to watching the show.

That experience was one of a countless number of memorable opportunities Bonnie has brought into my life: from our European "Dans un Coup D'Oeil" tour in 1979 to meeting me in Amsterdam years later after I'd wrapped up all the trappings of my dad's estate and traveled the world. What a ride it's been, my friend.

matt

I met Matt in the early 80s at the Richfield Ground Round. He was a regular and he would sketch on cocktail napkins, his designs for clay after he was done working at MN Clay. He was really tall, really dry-witted and horribly bad at conversations with people who didn't know him. Awkward, intelligent and really creative, I came to enjoy having him at the bar, since I could watch him draw between pulling pitchers of beer or blending ice cream drinks for great money. He has remained my friend all these years and has brought movie sound tracks and ambient music to my attention, as well as my love of pottery.

paul

When I broke my college years up with a year and a half work-study in both Dublin, Ireland and Manchester, England, I landed first in Dublin (where everyone had told me that I was going to get shot because that's all we heard about Ireland, pretty much)... well in three days I had four job offers and my first night at the Bloom's hotel collecting glassware around the bar and running drinks for tips, I met Paul and a load of his friends. He and I exchanged contact information and he became my tour guide around Dublin. He was married with two kids and so there was nothing else going to go on between us: although later, he would make an effort to change this, coming to Manchester to make his feelings known.

raena

Out in Seattle one Christmas a few years back, my brother, Raena and I were heading to the downtown across the West Seattle Bridge when this song came on the radio and I cranked it up so we could give it a good head bang. Raena could've about died in the back seat, but it's my wish that this very composed, controlled young lady can get to a point where she will be able to enjoy a good rocking out on her own terms.

skip

My brother has an incredibly stressful job these days and it is my wish that he can let himself laugh. His daughter is cut from a similar cloth and on another Christmas holiday, I brought this song to light, because it has both a catchy riff and a good message for those of us who are really over-worked.

camille

My niece is trudging her own path to self-employment while working through things she feels have caused her damage and mental anguish. She's an incredibly talented artist, designer, singer and all the while, being incredibly focused on how things are so hard.

I want her to find her voice, her place and her own power.

shelley

This gal and I met when we were four years old at nursery school held in the basement of Mayflower Church on 54th just off 35W. We were in the same buses to the same schools and lived about 6 blocks away from each other on the flight path of the Northwest Airlines planes taking off... we'd hear them with only a short pause over her house and then over mine.

She's been a solid support for me through a number of different challenges: working as the manager for the Baskin Robbins my brother and I inherited when my dad died, baby-sitting me through the first days of a couple of serious surgeries and watching after a variety of my animals when I traveled.

I don't get why she lives where she lives and I certainly don't want to, but I know that one day, she'll probably be living with me because she's got nothing built up for herself. This song is a kinda sad commentary on that, but she loves her some bluegrass... and at about 16 or so, she and I learned to drink shots of whiskey in the basement with the guy she's married to all these years later.