12-27-2018, 10:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-04-2019, 06:56 AM by Drunk Monk.)
Damn. I was hoping to finish out 2018 without any more of these.
Shirley was a fellow psych vol for RM and a hardcore deadhead. I’ve known her and her husband for over 3 decades now. She defeated cancer over a decade ago and came back strong, but her age and lifestyle had her in and out of the hospital over the last year plus. John alerted us on fb that she was having a tough go again, and then her granddaughter bid her farewell there this afternoon.
She dabbled in promoting jam bands prior to her cancer. As a talkdown artist, she took the role of the Mom with a conspirational mischeviousness, always with a lysergic twinkle in the corner of her eyes. She was using a walker over the last few years, but still made it to shows, although her sense of entitlement there put off some of the nooBs (kids today don’t really respect their elders).
They had me over for dinner during the Castle Highland days. She made the most sinful cheesey potato casserole, a gluttonous feast of starch and dairy, so good for all the the wrong reasons.
John, her now widower, has the overused tag line ‘it’s ok to dance.’ Now that she’s shed her mortal coil, she’s free to dance to Jerry again.
Shirley was a fellow psych vol for RM and a hardcore deadhead. I’ve known her and her husband for over 3 decades now. She defeated cancer over a decade ago and came back strong, but her age and lifestyle had her in and out of the hospital over the last year plus. John alerted us on fb that she was having a tough go again, and then her granddaughter bid her farewell there this afternoon.
She dabbled in promoting jam bands prior to her cancer. As a talkdown artist, she took the role of the Mom with a conspirational mischeviousness, always with a lysergic twinkle in the corner of her eyes. She was using a walker over the last few years, but still made it to shows, although her sense of entitlement there put off some of the nooBs (kids today don’t really respect their elders).
They had me over for dinner during the Castle Highland days. She made the most sinful cheesey potato casserole, a gluttonous feast of starch and dairy, so good for all the the wrong reasons.
John, her now widower, has the overused tag line ‘it’s ok to dance.’ Now that she’s shed her mortal coil, she’s free to dance to Jerry again.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
