The Midwest, Folks.
I had a moment. I love Chicago. I can’t even explain why exactly. I’ve always liked it. It has its own thing. It’s a real American city with a storied history.
In the past when I’d go to any town or city I’d go out of my way to check out what the place was known for, what food it was known for, what stores it was known for, what museums were around. All of it.
Now I do none of it. Not in a bad way. I think I’m just more content. On some level, I’ve seen enough, eaten enough, bought enough stuff.
I had gigs in Skokie and Joliet but I made sure to stay in Chicago. I didn’t really want to do anything there. I just wanted to be there. The point is, I realized that being someplace had nothing to do with what that place has to offer other than being that place. I mean, I get that about an island but what I realized is that it's the same with a city. It’s the vibe, the weight, the poetry of the place. It was elevating, soothing. To be in place that was whole and realized and old and part of the beginning of modern America.
A ghost of the past where working people lived in layers of communities, immigrants, all occupations represented. Machines and manufacturing. Corner offices and printing presses and hot steel.
I’m not sure I’m even explaining it right. It represents something that doesn’t really exist anymore.
I find relief in ghosts.
In this time of an authoritarian coup that seems nearly unstoppable, fueled by illusion and heartless greed, I find respite in the apparitions of what life was like even well before me.
Ghosts are everywhere talking to us from buildings and on the radio, on our phones. The tones of the dead elevate the soul. It’s magic. It’s nostalgia maybe, but necessary to remember what humans did before they were totally brain fucked by illusions of bullshit disassembling our minds into emotionally charged hammers and knives.
This new world wants those that think and feel for other people to die and they’re going to use the broken brains of the dehumanized, gutted of empathy, to carry out the mass homicide through negligence, suppression, forced illness and possible brute force. Who the fuck knows?
I’m just saying, it’s nice to hang out with ghosts in ghost ships. It’s exciting to bring people in from the storm of their minds and the tyranny of the monsters to connect and entertain.
I played the Rialto Theatre in Joliet and it is one of the most beautiful venues I’ve ever been in. I was skeptical about going there at first. I didn’t know what kind of town it was. Driving in, it seemed shattered and bleak. There was almost nothing going on downtown. There, in the grayness, was this monument of old entertainment with a lit up sign full of bulbs.
I don't know where the people came from. The sound guy and the lighting guy and the stage manager seemed a bit detached and cold. The security guy out back asked me if he had seen me on Fox News. I said, ‘Not that I know of. Not on purpose, if at all.’
It was not a great way to enter the venue. The lighting board had been totally disconnected and I had no idea whether that would resolve itself.
The theatre was magic and seemingly maintained perfectly. I think the seats were even original from the '20s.
More than 800 people showed up. The place seated 1,900 but it was perfect because it made it intimate and a little weird. Fully lit up folks in a magic time machine laughing through the bleakness and the despair. Perfect.
Thanks to the ghosts and what's left of where they lived.
Today I talk to Delroy Lindo. It got deep. It was real. Thursday I talk to Lynne Margulies who was Andy Kaufman’s last partner and was there when he died. We talk about Andy and the new amazing doc about him, Thank You Very Much.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
