Confessions of an Rx Addict

About two years ago, I was very pregnant (five days away from my due date to be more specific), and watching my favorite band play for the last time ever, tapping the drum beats on my belly. If my little boy couldn’t ever see them play live, at least he could hear and feel them play their farewell tour in utero. 

Me backstage at the SLC farewell tour stop.  7/25/2011.

It’s been a long road of loving the Rx Bandits, one that started the first time I saw them play in a tiny garage known as Kilby Court in 2001, and has continued on for more than a decade. I’ve seen them play live over 40 times in a total of 9 U.S. states. I realize this makes me sound like a complete and total fangirl, but I’m OK with that. It’s a label that I will proudly own up to when it comes to Rx. I love music. Lots of different kinds of music. But the music of the Bandits just hits a spot in my soul, makes me dance, makes me happy, makes me think, and makes me do crazy things like fly to New York City, hop a train to New Jersey, and drag my luggage through the ice and snow to attend a show in a tiny, sweaty club in Asbury Park.

At this, the two year mark of the birth of my baby boy and the farewell tour of RXB, and mere weeks away from seeing their SLC stop on The 10 Year Resignation Anniversary Tour, I thought it would be a great time to chronicle some of the most memorable, insane, and super amazeballs RXB shows that I’ve had the pleasure of attending….as well as one that I didn’t quite make it to.

It was August something-or-other in 2001 and a few of my really good friends were in a band called Zero to Hero. One of the best spots for aspiring local bands to get their first gig was the infamous Kilby Court in downtown Salt Lake City. It’s a garage-turned-furniture-studio-turned-venue where I’ve had the immense pleasure of seeing tons of crazy good bands before they make it big. I’ve even played the stage myself. It’s small, crowded, freezing in the winter, sweltering in the summer, and a great spot to open for a national, touring band and get your gig legs under you before embarking on a tour yourself. So, Zero to Hero got a spot opening for Rx Bandits, and I headed to Kilby, not really expecting much. I’d heard “Analog Boy” on a Drive-Thru Records sampler that wasn’t bad, but little did I know that I was about to become a super fan. After only one live set, I was totally hooked. 

Rx plays Kilby Court - August 2001

The view from my very first Rx show

Growing up, I played the alto saxophone and had a mild affinity for jazz, ska, and any genre that made use of my instrument. So, while I appreciated those ska flavors in a few of their songs, they weren’t what drew me in. The band was crazy energetic and passionate about their tunes, the trombonist played air guitar on his instrument and danced around like a lunatic, the drummer was a MACHINE, the horn section joined in and played drums on a few songs, and… I may or may not have had a crush on the lead singer, Matt Embree, and his lyrics. I was writing for SLUG Magazine at the time and I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment in Provo to write my review of the show, and listen to the shiny new CD I picked up at the merch booth: “Progress.”

Fast forward three months. I met a dashing young man named Mason who shared my love for live music, and I also found out that RX was playing a show at the House of Blues in Las Vegas. Those two ingredients were the perfect recipe for our first road trip as a couple, with our friends Annan and Lisa. 

Lisa, Annan, me and Mason. November 2001 at House of Blues Las Vegas

Looking back at the line-up now, it really makes me giggle to see the rise and fall of various indie and mainstream bands in a few short years. Thrice was the opener (I’d never even heard of them at this point, but would later interview them for SLUG, see them live at least 10 times, and dislocate my jaw in one of their pits), followed by RX, followed by old-timers H2O, and…New Found Glory was the headliner. We pushed our way to the front row (through throngs of NFG teeny boppers), danced our feet off, and went to talk to the band after the show. We told them that we had driven over 400 miles to see them, and thus began a decade of the Bandits thinking that these kids from Salt Lake City were totally insane. 

I'm really excited about these tickets to see New Found Glory

Later that year, I saw a post on a message board that Rx Bandits were looking for someone to replace Rich on the trombone. I emailed them right away and asked if they would consider an alto sax player that could sing, and Matt wrote back, “Sax is sick” and started asking questions about my influences and availability to tour. I lived a few brief days feeling like Mark Wahlberg in “Rock Star,” imagining myself in the studio and on tour with a band I really loved. But when all was said and done, I was a working, full-time college student, they had a brutal schedule, and I think we can all agree that it’s a really good thing they ended up with Steve Borth as Rich’s eventual replacement. I really love what his vocals (as well as his sax of course) brought to the mix.

Mason and I had been dating for a few months, and my 21st birthday was approaching. Through some twisted twist of fate, guess who was playing a show in Sin City on my 21st birthday? Ding, ding, ding, you guessed it! Annan, Mason and I trekked to Vegas once again and saw Rx play a tiny venue called Tremorz with openers Yellowcard and The Exit. Yellowcard went on to experience some moderate fame with their violining-while-backflipping schtick, so it’s always fun to say “I saw them when…..” but I wasn’t really impressed that night. The Exit, however: very impressive. 

Me, Matt, Annan and Mason (with a drumstick from The Exit).  Las Vegas, February 2002.

That summer, Mason and I broke up. And got back together. And broke up again. Yeah, 2002 was one of THOSE summers. In a rebellious and fleeting moment after one of the break-ups, I decided that Annan and I should go see a few Rx shows as single ladies. We packed up my tiny Civic with our sleeping bags, our giant Case Logic CD wallets (remember those?), and our 52 ounce mugs of Diet Coke with lemon, and drove to Visalia, California. We had no hotel room, no itinerary, and basically no plan whatsoever. We ran out of gas and almost got kidnapped in the Mojave desert, we spent the night at some random fan’s house with the band, we took showers at truck stops, we sat in the tour van, we helped load equipment in to a tiny venue in Fresno, we made out with a merch guys, we camped on a hotel’s front lawn and got awakened by sprinklers, I got to sing a duet on stage with Dynamite Boy, and Matt played one of my requests for the very first time (“Nothing Sacred”). 

Singing "No Way Out" with Dynamite Boy.  Fresno, CA 2002.

Gak, Derrick, Joe, Annan, etc. playing king's cup in Visalia, CA.

Rx Bandits, Dynamite Boy, and The Reunion Show Tour, 2002

Slumber party!

Looking back, my only regret is that Mason wasn’t there to share in that trip of a trip. WE WERE ON A BREAK!

Obviously, we eventually got back together, saw some more Bandits shows, and in June of 2003, we got married. That summer, Annan, Mason and I embarked on an epic adventure (an extended honeymoon, if you will) to see a few shows in Texas and Louisiana. “The Resignation” had just been released, and I remember suffering from a very literal and very serious case of Rx FEVER. I seriously couldn’t listen to them or see them live enough. That album was so many levels above “Progress,” they had new members, new instruments, and a completely new live show that needed to be experienced over and over again. We flew to Houston and on July 24, 2003, we experienced the sweatiest Rx show of our young lives at a venue called Java Jazz in the suburb of Spring, Texas. When we drove up to the venue that night, Matt was sitting on the back of their van’s trailer, and we waved at him as we passed by. I will never forget the look on his face. If there had been a caption to that photo, it would’ve been, “Is that really those bleeping kids from bleeping UTAH?!?!?!??!” It was classic.

This girl has been to a couple hundred shows and gotten pretty darn sweaty, but hands down, that show in Spring was the hottest and sweatiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I lost two pounds of sweat, but I also gained seven pounds of other people’s perspiration in my clothes and my hair. We ran straight to our car after their set, stripped down, and sat half-naked in front of the A/C vents, wringing our sopping wet shirts out the window. It was fantastic.

Rx had the next night off, so we traveled to Austin to see the city and another show at Emo’s. I think we saw Further Seems Forever, but I’m not 100% sure. All I remember is that Austin was a great little music town with excellent shopping, and that it was HOT as all get out. The following night, we broke all the rules on the rental car contract that I signed and drove Lance, our Mitsubishi Lancer, over state lines, across the great Mississippi River, and into Louisiana. Rx was scheduled to play at a tiny venue in Baton Rouge called The Spanish Moon, but there was trouble in paradise. Joe was having abdominal pains of epic proportions that turned out to be appendicitis. Wah wah.

The moral of the story is this: sometimes when you fly 1500 miles to Texas and drive another 270 miles to Louisiana to see a band, they end up cancelling their show. And that’s just life. However, the second moral to the story is this: when an Rx show is cancelled due to the bass player being in the hospital, sometimes Matt Embree will play a solo set to make you feel better. OK, it wasn’t really for me, but it really did make me feel better. He did some great renditions of Rx songs, including the only time I’ve seen “Pal -Treaux” live, and a few covers as well. The one that really sticks out in my mind was his version of Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine.” Borth joined him on stage to sing harmony, but you better believe that I was watching from the front row, wishing that I was the one singing with him. You see what I did there? That’s a little literary tool known as foreshadowing!

A few years and more than a few shows passed. We continued our regular routine of seeing them every time they played in SLC (of course), and anywhere close(ish). 

Another Kilby Court show

Matt's not on board with the cheek kiss

They all spent the night at Annan’s house after a show at Club Xscape, and I’ll not soon forget how rock ‘n roll Canyon View Drive looked with a tour van and trailer parked on it. We made a Disneyland trip out of one of their House of Blues shows (where Nate from Finch guest-starred on “Infection”), sweated it out in the basement of Jerry's Pizza in Bakersfield, and made it to Vegas a couple more times as well. 

Cut to the next truly memorable show experience: Asbury Park, New Jersey at The Stone Pony in late 2006. A good friend of ours was returning from a two-year stint in the Peace Corps in Africa via NYC, so a group of us decided to surprise her with an airport rendezvous and extended stay. Like I always did before departing for a trip, I checked to see if there were any good shows in the NY area, and you guessed it: there was an Rx show! One problem, well two problems: it was the night we arrived, and we weren’t set to land until around 7 pm, and two, it was in New Jersey. With much scouting of the MTA website, I found us a way to land at JFK, take the subway to Penn Station, and then get on another train that would take us out to Asbury Park in time for the show. The scary part was that the last train left Jersey a bit before midnight, and if we didn’t catch that train, we’d be stuck in the garden state without a paddle.

We knew it would be a bit hectic, but we were still pumped. Then I got a cold. Then I gave it to Mason. Then we realized that we’d have our luggage with us on the entire blessed Jersey journey. Then we landed at JFK and it was go-time. We made the trains, stepped on to a frozen solid platform and started our trek to the club, all the while wheeling around our luggage behind us, through puddles of slush and ice. We were basically screaming out, “WE ARE CLUELESS TOURISTS. PLEASE COME AND MUG US.” Walking into the club, a heaven-sent wave of humid heat greeted us. It was stinky-show-smell, but who cares? It was warm. I somehow coerced the bouncer into letting us leave our bags in a utility closet and we managed to have a blast at the show, despite needing to blow my nose about 29 times throughout. There was no time for mingling afterwards, we had to haul back to the train before its midnight departure.

Some kind Jersey fans agreed to give us a lift to the train, and we gave them a CD of our band, The Precinct, in return. That train ride from Asbury Park to Penn Station to Brooklyn was one of the scariest hours of my life, I’ll be honest. At one point I was fairly certain that Mason was going to get attacked by a drugged-up homeless dude, and the rest of the time had the creepiest man alive staring at me from across the aisle, following us from train to train. Alas, we survived, and had a memorable, crazy good time in the Big Apple with our closest friends.

In April of 2007, the University of Wyoming booked Rx to play a show on campus, and we thought it was a stupendous opportunity for a road trip across the wasteland of the Cowboy state. Annan, Rebecca, Mason and I took half-days at work and piled in our Saab 9-5 Aero (that detail becomes important later) and drove due East. I’ll just be honest here, I wasn’t driving super responsibly. We were in a hurry to complete the 6-hour commute before the show started, and I happened to be driving a turbo-charged vehicle that felt smoother and more fabulous at 110 mph than it did at the posted speed limit of 75. We stopped for treats and switched drivers at a truck stop in the literal middle of nowhere, and when Mason took the wheel, he agreed that our noble steed, Simon, was a champion at top speeds and decided to “see how fast this baby can go.” Famous last words.

The turbo whirred, the tires hugged the totally vacant road, and it was exhilarating. We had only been going over the legal limit for a mere 30 seconds (and didn’t intend to carry on at that ridiculous speed for more than a minute) when I looked down and saw the speedometer approaching 140. It was at that moment that something caught the corner of my eye. Something horrible. Something terrifying. The worst thing one could ever encounter on I-80: a highway patrol car. I yelled out “5-0!” and Mason hit the brakes and immediately slowed us back to 70 mph. The stream of expletives that filled our tiny cockpit at that moment was very impressive. The good news: the cop was across a giant median, speeding in the opposite direction. The bad news: I looked back to see his Impala jumping said giant median, lights flashing and sirens blazing.

Did you guys know that the cops have radar on the front AND the back of their vehicles? And that they don’t even need to be pointing the gun at you to clock your speed? Those nifty contraptions can take a reading from across a median, going the opposite direction, from the front and from behind! It’s pretty amazing. A feat of modern technology, really.

We pulled over and Officer Whatshisname declared that he had clocked us going 124 on his front radar and 111 on his rear radar. He actually seemed a little bit impressed with himself for catching the biggest fish Carbon County had seen in years. The rest of the night was kind of a blur. Mason got handcuffed and stuffed in the back of the Impala, Rebecca drove us 40 miles back in the other direction to the county jail in Rawlins, and I took on the role of hysterically crying wife. We booked a night at a hotel across the street while Mason himself got booked. I called Matt to let him know that we wouldn’t be making the show after all, due to incarceration, and that he could take us off the guest list. “That’s pretty rock ‘n roll,” he said. It was one of the few smiles I cracked that night.

In the morning, I walked over to the jail to sit in on my husband’s very first (and hopefully last) hearing. I had never been happier to see my love than I was that morning. He had survived his first (and hopefully last) night in jail, and he looked so cute clad in an orange jumpsuit and matching orange slip-on Vans. The judge let my Mason off with a big fat ticket, a stern warning, and a hilarious question when the evidence was presented that the accused was clocked going 124 in a 75. “124? Were you driving a car or flying a plane?” This was particularly amusing to me because I’d been a Saab enthusiast (read: nut) since the age of 8. Saab started out making aircrafts and their slogan at the time was “Born From Jets.” So he sort of was flying a plane.

"What we need right now is Love" by Mason Fetzer.  Spray paint on vinyl.  www.masonfetzer.com

Though we were forced to skip that particular show, the rest of 2007 was a red-letter year in terms of my Rx-show-going. In August, a trip to a SoCal beach house with friends coincided with three shows on their tour with The Fall of Troy, and in the fall, the University of Utah invited the Bandits to play their annual Redfest. I’d been going to Redfest for years. Even if I didn’t particularly love the bands they booked, tickets were FREE with your (or your friend’s) student ID, so we would always go and enjoy some live music while watching the sun set over the Salt Lake valley. The Format, Straylight Run, Rx, and Jack's Mannequin were scheduled to play the sunset show, but as a part of the festivities, they booked local bands to play throughout the day at the Union. The Precinct was asked to play an hour set during lunch time. Even though we played a good 8 hours before Rx came on stage, this is where I like to say, “One time, we opened for Rx Bandits.” It counts, right?

Our set went well, I went back to the office, and then we headed back to campus after work for the show. I’d discovered The Format years earlier (thanks to Rx for touring with them) and had always been impressed with Nate and their live show. The Precinct even covers a couple of their songs. Now everything has come full circle. Nate’s new band Fun. headlined that very same Redfest in 2011, and now they are Grammy-winning-radio-regulars in 2013. I couldn’t be happier for them and their success, but I digress. The crowd at Redfest was excellent. I have no doubt why most bands say that Salt Lake is one of their favorite cities to play. We all sang every word to The Format and waited impatiently for los Banditos to take the stage. They had played Salt Lake a mere week after “…And the Battle Begun” came out earlier that year, but only the superfans who had pre-ordered the album and listened to it 129 times before that show knew any of the songs. I think that’s why the Redfest crowd was so particularly pumped: seeing those songs live for the first time (after you know and love the album) is a spiritual experience, for sure. I’d seen the ATBB set about 6 or 7 times already, but that didn’t make it any less spiritual.

The title track is my favorite off that album—and maybe even my favorite of all time—so when I heard Gak start the intro, I turned to jelly. I looked over towards the middle of the crowd and saw one of my favorite things I’ve ever seen at a Bandits show: a dude holding his shoes above his head, paying homage to the line, “Take off your shoes baby, it’s time for dancing.” I wanted to go give that guy (whoever he was) a big hug at that moment. The set continued in sheer face-melting awesomeness, and then they started “Only For the Night.” I was dancing and singing and jumping around as usual, but then I heard something that made me stop. Matt had changed the lyrics and given us a shout out. Rather than “She makes it better….only for the night,” he sang, “The Precinct makes it better…only for the night.” One of my favorite Rx moments, to be sure.

I had been following the various band members’ side projects throughout this whole ordeal as well, and Seekret Socyetee’s “The IL2 Word” had become one of my favorite hip-hop records ever. While driving Matt to some after-show grub in my car, the Neil Young song on the random mix that was playing came to an end. What was next up on the mix, you ask? Why, it was “To Each His Own” by Seekret Socyetee, of course. AWKWARD. I looked over (somewhat horrified) at Matt, who was just sitting there laughing. Probably one of my least favorite Rx moments, to be sure.

When the Love You Moon record came out, I was instantly hooked. I’d always loved Matt’s acoustic tracks, and it was simply a great and diverse album, from start to finish. However, whenever bands that I really love collaborate with a female singer, and that female singer is not me, I get a little pissed off and jealous (in a hilarious teenage girl sort of way). Tried as I might though, there’s no way I could ever hate Lauren Coleman. Her voice is just mesmerizing. It’s so chill and vintage sounding, and she’s just adorable. I’d first heard her on V.I.T.A.L Emcee’s “Slouch Hat,” and then when she was featured on Love You Moon’s record as well, I just had to accept the fact that she was Matt’s go-to female vocalist. And now there’s Pebaluna. Sigh.

In 2010, Matt was doing a solo tour to promote Love You Moon, and he was scheduled to play none other than Kilby Court, the place where I’d seen Rx for the first time nearly 10 years earlier. He called Mason the day of the show and asked for a ride from the airport. I’m sure that flying alone as opposed to driving in a van or tour bus with the dudes was quite a departure (no pun intended). So, we picked him and his guitar up at the airport and drove over to Kilby. We had a couple of drinks out of the trunk of our car and Matt asked if we had any drums or percussive devices to enhance his solo sound. I told him that we didn’t, but that I’d be more than happy to lend some vocal support on harmonies if it was needed. He asked which song I knew. I didn’t know how to say “ALL OF THEM” without sounding like the geek that I am, so I just said, “How about ‘A New World?’” which is basically a duet with Lauren. We ran through it once right there in the alley with the new tempo he’d been working on, and just like that, my dream of singing on stage with Matt was about to come true. 

Me and Matt on stage at Kilby Court, 2010

The show was tons of fun, especially because it had been so long since they’d played a tiny little venue like that. It was intimate and acoustic and awesome. Matt called me up on stage, we sang our ditty, and it was honestly in the top 3 moments I’ve ever experienced with a mic in my hand. It was simply as epic as I’d always envisioned it, and I didn’t even forget the words.

Some random kids invited Matt (and Annan, Mason and I by extension) over to their place after the show, and those warm fuzzies I had on stage lasted for hours afterwards as we talked and jammed. We even did a rendition of my favorite Jimi Hendrix song “Castles Made of Sand.” It got late and Matt asked if he could crash at our place, so we picked up some drive-thru Mexican food and headed home. If you thought that a Seekret Socyetee song playing while he was in my car was embarrassing, wait until you hear about the guest room that we put him up in.

Band posters plastered every wall of our first apartment, but after we grew up, bought a house, and moved to suburbia, we relegated all the band posters to the band room. The band room is also, coincidentally, the only other room in our house with a bed. As we led him downstairs, we apologized profusely that he would have to sleep in a room where himself, his band mates, and hundreds of other dudes would be staring blankly at him while he slept. Yes, there are lots of other band posters up there, but come on, of course the majority of them are Rx posters. Oops, sorry you had to sleep in your own shrine, Matt.

As a hilarious parallel, later that summer, we rented a house in Huntington Beach with our friends and stayed an extra day to hang out with Matt. He didn’t have room at his place, so he put Al, Mason and I up at his mom’s house in Seal Beach. I felt kind of awkward putting her out like that, but when she showed us to HER guest room, I couldn’t help but smile and laugh. It was covered in Rx memorabilia. There were framed newspaper articles, reviews, records, and posters everywhere. So, even though we felt funny about making Matt sleep in his shrine at our house, he made us sleep in his shrine at his mom’s house, so it’s all good.

There have been so many more amazing shows that I haven’t written about. A bowling alley on Fremont Street in Vegas, a surprise trip to two shows in Arizona for Mason’s birthday, using my SLUG press pass to get us in to the San Francisco Warped Tour, staying at the same hotel as the band in Boise, and adventures in macaroni and cheese-making on Rx’s tour bus.

Rx Bandits play the San Francisco Warped Tour, 2004 (?)

But of all of these shows, the farewell tour takes the cake. When they announced their farewell tour, I was 3 months pregnant. They didn’t have specific dates posted yet, but I knew it would be in the summer. My due date was July 30. Right then and there, I had to set myself some boundaries.

“OK Carly, if the show’s anytime in June, that’s OK. You can stand in the back, wear some comfy shoes, and make sure not to get elbowed. If the show’s in early July, you’re totally fine. If the show’s in late July, it gets a little iffy. And Carly, if you have a 3-day old baby, you CANNOT go to the show. Just face it. You can’t. You would be the most horrible mother in the land if you left your new new new newborn baby with Grandma (though she wouldn’t protest) to see a band you’ve already seen too many times. You just can’t. But Carly, it’s their FAREWELL TOUR!!!! Carly, don’t argue with me.”

Then Salt Lake’s date was posted: July 25. Ugh. There probably couldn’t have been a worse date. If Townes came early, there was no way I could go. If he came on time, I’d be the giant whale with a backache at the rock show. If he decided to come on July 25, I’d be the lady getting rushed out of the venue because her water broke during the opening band. The good news is that they put us on the list, so I didn’t have to worry about buying tickets that I wouldn’t be able to use. Then it was time to play the waiting game.

On July 25th, I felt pretty darn good and we decided to go to the show. We brought a case of local Utah brews, a painting that Mason had been working on for Matt and V.I.T.A.L.’s new side project, and met Matt, Choi, Joe and Gak on the tour bus. Everyone hugged and drank beers, I drank water, and Matt asked us what songs we wanted to hear that night. Having them play one of your requests is definitely awesome, but helping to WRITE THE SET LIST is beyond compare. I made sure Dinna Dawg, Taking Chase, Infection, and ATBB made the cut. The only one they wouldn’t give me was “Bled to be Free (The Operation)” because it was apparently too hard and they hadn’t practiced it. Jerks.

It’s a good thing we brought some beers, because they were all very confused as to why the liquor store was closed that day. Explaining Utah’s state holiday, Pioneer Day, to a group of Californians was totally amusing.

They were kind enough to explain to the bouncers that I was about to pop, gave me a fancy wristband, and offered me a seat backstage. The problem was, at this venue, there wasn’t really any sort of “back” stage to speak of. There was the stage, and then a ramp leading up to the stage. So, Mason and I took our seats on the edge of the ramp, right out in the open, and sang our guts out at what might be the last Rx show of our lives. It was also the first and last Rx show that our baby boy would probably ever experience, so we were definitely sentimental about the whole thing. Townes LOVED it. He was dancing and flipping around at the beginning, and then I think the sound lulled him into a nice and relaxing sleep for the last 30 minutes of the set. 

Best seat in the house.  Farewell tour, 2011.

Stage-side view

Though I longed to be out in the crowd and my back ached, Joe was kind enough to point his fan directly at me, and helped to keep the whole thing as cool and comfortable as possible. Before we knew it, the set list we had helped write was coming to an end. I could tell that the crowd was in the same happy/sad mood that we were. Matt gave a shout out to us and to Townes from the mic, and the band stopped by for hugs and kisses on their way back to the stage for the encore. Afterwards, we hung out in the giant warehouse next to the venue, gleaned baby wisdom from Gak, and let Joe feel the baby kick. If it truly had been the last Rx show of my life, I could have died happy.

Gak, Matt, Mason, and a very pregnant me

Joe wanted the baby to kick him in the head, and he did!

Lucky for me, and for all of humanity, the hiatus is back off again, and it was NOT the last Rx show I’d ever see. The Bandits played their first stop of the tour last night in San Francisco, and in exactly three weeks, I’ll be enjoying the sweet sounds of The Resignation from the middle of the crowd with all the other non-pregnant Rx fans. And though I’ll admit that I don’t solely eat, sleep and breathe to go to Rx shows anymore, I am truly excited to see what this reunion will bring. How will the songs have morphed from the last time I heard them live? How will the lack of Borth and Sheets (even if there are other horns) play out? Are there new songs? IS THERE A NEW ALBUM IN THE WORKS?! Most of all, I just can’t wait to see those damn Bandits take their rightful spots back on the stage.

Rx Bandits have been the first to say that they have the greatest fans in the world, and I am so ecstatic to be among their numbers. I’m sure there are thousands of other fans out there with similar hilarious, tragic, face-melting, and life-changing Rx stories. These are mine. And I can’t wait to add another one to the pile.

Take off your shoes baby, it’s time for dancing.
 

"matt steve joe" by Mason Fetzer
Spray paint on plexiglass www.masonfetzer.com

First words

Townes is in the funnest (yes, that's a word) phase right now.  For my own memory's sake, here are the words he's (almost) saying at (almost) 14 months.  I've included his pronunciation of the word in quotes:

 

Dad

Mama

Kitty  “kiiy”

Fish  “ish”

Banana  “nana”

Teeth  “tee”

Eye

Duck “duh”

Peach “each”

Ball 

Cheese “thee”

Bottle “baba”

And the best word the kid knows, complete with a point and some grabbing whenever he sees them:

Boobs “boooo”

 

 

First Steps

 I was folding laundry in the bedroom yesterday and lo and behold, I looked down to find Townes taking a few steps all by himself! As I was wondering if this was a fleeting moment or the real thing, my Mom rang the doorbell (she came over for dinner and a walk).

So we went into the living room, she got out her phone, and I thought, what the heck, let's just try again and see what happens. This is what happened! 



 

 

A letter to my Townes

July 2, 2012

Dear Townes,

Writing letters to your babies/children has become all the rage lately.  And, just so you don’t feel like your mom isn’t trendy or cool, I thought I should write you one.  OK the real reason is because I woke up today and realized that you are almost 11 months old.  11 months?!  How can it possibly have already been almost a year since I locked eyes with you for the first time?  It seems like minutes, seconds, nanoseconds.  But simultaneously, it feels like you’ve always been here. 

They say that our personalities are evident and already formed by the time we are two years old.  I think you are an overachiever, because yours was established and growing by the time you were a few hours old.  You have always had this, for lack of a better word, presence.  You are such a Bohdi.  Your eyes sparkle when you smile, you have the most contagious joy that seems to radiate from you--right from your dead center, your heart. 

Then there are your expressions.  I’ve never seen an 11-month-old with the diverse range of faces, mannerisms, and postures that you have. 

Your dad has captured some of these in photos, but it seems that every day, you have a new face or reaction to show to us that makes us sigh, coo, or, like your latest “Monkey Duff Face,” laugh uncontrollably. 

Your “Stinky Face” is another one for the books.  You first made that face after Grandma Marsha gave you a daffodil to smell, and we walked around her office showing you off to all the employees.  You proceeded to hold out the daffodil to everyone you met, and they would smell it.  When we got home that night, you started smelling everything in sight: your food, your toys, and just the air in general.  Now the Stinky Face is usually reserved for when you are too full to eat another bite, or are disgusted with the cuisine.  It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.  You still love to smell the flowers that Dad buys me.  And, you are so clever that you even try to smell the pictures of flowers you see in your books.

You love the cats, even if they don’t love you sometimes.  Whenever you catch a glimpse of one of the cats when I’m feeding you, you stop eating and break out into the most genuinely happy grin.  The first time we ever heard Ripley (a fellow Bohdi) hiss, was when you were a newborn and Dad was holding you on the bed.  She came up and started sniffing your little head, and when that head began to move around, she let out the most hilarious, tiny, and pathetic hiss.  She hasn’t hissed at you since though, and will pretty much tolerate anything that you initiate:  tail pulling, “petting” (with a bit of a heavy hand, we are still working on that), chasing, kicking, etc.  Dad and I have continuously made the Bohdi comparison between you and Ripley.  You both just seem to be content, calm, at one with the universe, and ready to go with the flow in all aspects of life. 

Kiddo is an entirely different story.  That mean old kitty WANTS to love you, but has so many crazy hang-ups, that she just can’t bring herself to really love anyone other than Dad.  She tolerates you and I, but we are just obstacles in the way of Dad spending all day, every day with her, so we MUST be punished.  She seemed to mostly ignore you until you could sit up and be mobile, and then she couldn’t ignore you any longer. 

The first time I remember her hissing at you was when you were sitting on the bed, she jumped up, and you reached out your hand to pet her soft fur.  She swatted at you (like she does) and let out a hiss.  I won’t ever forget the look on your face—you were SO startled and taken aback that this kitty that you LOVED would ever do anything so mean to you.  You!  The sweetest being to ever grace planet Earth! What did you ever do to her? You only tried to love her!  It broke my heart in two.  After you made the startled face, you started to cry the sweetest and saddest little cry and I couldn’t help but scoop you up into my arms and tell you the same thing I tell you today. “Pay no attention to that mean old kitty.  Rrrucifee mean, sneaky, jump at you, hiss at you, hissssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!”  It always makes you laugh, and you even learned how to make a hissing sound and hiss right back at that mean old kitty.  Sometimes, you even preemptively hiss at her, which I can definitely appreciate.  It always helps to be prepared.

I actually think that “kitty” (or your variation of it—“dittay”) was your second word.  It was very different than the regular stuttering and gibberish that you would say, because you said it the second you saw one of the cats.  One would come around the corner, and you would get so excited, smile, and say, “dittay! Dit dit dittay!”  You have also learned to ROAR.  You have a plastic rolling lion toy, a stuffed lion, and a couple of books with pictures of lions.  Grandma Marsha worked on roaring with you and now, whenever you see a lion, you bust out the cutest little ROOOOAAAAAAR that I’ve ever heard.  Yours is doubly adorable because it’s kind of a whisper-roar.  It’s very quiet, but VERY ferocious. 

My favorite was when we were at the library downtown.  We walked into the kids’ area and I was looking around to find where the baby books were.  All of a sudden, you started roaring.  I hadn’t even seen the giant stuffed lion that was lying on top of one of the bookshelves in the corner, but you sure did!  You also roared at the real live tigers that we saw at the zoo.  Man, nothing gets by you.  When we went on our trip back East with Grandma Shari, we could only bring a few toys with us, one of which was your plastic dump truck.  Grandma Shari would push the truck around with you in the hotel room, making the sound of a rumbling engine.  You didn’t imitate her immediately, but now, not a day of play goes by without you pushing around your dump truck or your fire engine, making the best truck noise I ever did hear. 

Your first “Da Da” was uttered right around 8 months and you were SO good at it.  You practiced it all the time, in long strings.  Uncle Asher remembers trying to talk to Dad on the phone about an upcoming fishing trip and not even being able to hear him, due to your “da da da dad a dad  da dad DAD DA DA DA DA DA DA DAAAAA DA DA DAAAAAAAAAAAAA” in the background. 

You finally said “Ma Ma” for the first time – on  Father’s Day.  Atta boy!  More than your speaking of words, it is your understanding and comprehension of words that impresses me.  When you were first learning to clap and wave and do great things with your hands, you could understand verbal commands, even without hand gestures to clue you in.  Sure, any kid can clap once they see Mom and Dad and Aunt Ethel clapping their hands like mad.  We were driving in the car and Dad called from the front seat and said, “Townes, can you clap?”  without any hand gestures.  You immediately started clapping from your seat.  Like a pro.  I also asked you to show Mama your ball, and you picked it right up off the ground and held it out to me.  I’m sure that every parent in the world thinks that their child is gifted and brilliant and basically a prodigy.  So I’m sure I’m not covering any new ground here.  But Townes, you are so smart. 

From the beginning, you have always concentrated so intently on the “task” at hand.  Usually the task is inspecting a toy, turning the pages of a book, or shaking a pill bottle like a rattle, but no matter how trite or how important, you take that task SERIOUSLY.  I love that about you.  Yes of course, you lose interest in the object eventually, I mean come on, you are a baby, but it has always been fascinating to me that you have such a long attention span.  I can almost hear the wheels in your brain turning and cranking away. 

You are great with toys and books and puzzles, but man, you really love non-toy toys.  Mom’s phone, Dad’s phone charger, the remotes, a toothbrush, the dishwasher, and your most favorite, the cat food bowls.  Ever since you’ve been mobile (the army crawl is your specialty), we can count on you making a mad dash for the kitchen (with a huge grin on your face, grunting and giggling, so proud of yourself that you’re moving soooo quickly) and head straight for the kitties’ food and water.  Maybe it’s because they’re at your eye level, maybe it’s because they look very similar to your sweet potato “puffs,” but whatever it is, you are drawn to those cat food bowls like a magnet.  Luckily you haven’t eaten any yet (at least not on my watch). 

Cat food is about the only thing you HAVEN’T eaten.  And whatever it is that we give you, you seem to love it.  I daresay you’re the un-pickiest child to grace the face of the planet. 

Your first food (at about 5 months) was avocados mashed up with a little bit of mama’s milk.  You liked them OK, but didn’t really love solid foods until you found the joy of SCHWEETAPOTATOOOOOES.  Mama and Dad are such dorks, they really say it that way every time you eat some:  SCHWEETAPOTATOOOOOES!!!!!  They were your absolute favorite in those early days.  Whenever we wanted you to try something new like green beans or carrots, all we had to do was mix them up in some sweet potatoes, and you would gobble them all up.  Now, we don’t need to hide anything from you. 

You love trying new things, and one of your favorites is pickles.  Dad gave you a little taste of one when he was having lunch, just to see you make the squinty pickle face, but much to his surprise, you didn’t make a face at all!  You sucked on that pickle like it was a lollipop and now we constantly have a jar of dill pickle spears in the fridge just for you.  (And Dad.) 

One night when you were up late with a teething-ache, I brought you into our bed and put on a cartoon to distract you from the pain.  Dad was just coming to bed after being up working late and had a plate of leftover pizza.  Long after Mama fell asleep, you and Dad stayed up, watching your cartoon and sharing bites of pizza.  Boys will be boys.  We’re still a little limited as to what you can eat because you are still working on your first two teeth, but some of your other favorites are cherry tomatoes, any kind of berry, yogurt, Mama’s homemade spaghetti sauce, eggs, feta cheese, black beans, and much to Mama’s chagrin—olives and mushrooms. I was hesitant in giving you any foods with strong flavors at first, but you quickly broke me of that habit.  Onions, garlic, hot sauce, bring it on, you are NOT afraid.  Maybe it was all that spicy Indian food that I ate when you were in my tummy.

You love to be outside.  We started taking you on walks and fishing outings when you were only a couple of weeks old.  I’m not sure if that helped out or not, but regardless, you are one happy camper when you’re camping, fishing, swimming, hiking, or just on a walk or run with Mama. 

Not that it’s a bad thing, but sometimes it’s hard to find things to keep your little mind happily occupied!  Whenever we’re outside, that does not seem to be a problem at all.  You are happy holding a leaf, sitting in the grass, looking at the birdies, or playing with a stick or a rock.  Whenever Dad takes you fishing, he doesn’t have to take many toys, because he knows that you are very content to play with nature’s toys.  Whenever we go on walks, you are such a good boy in your stroller. 

 I can only remember one time EVER that you have cried in your stroller, and I think it’s because the sun was in your eyes and Mama forgot your hat.  Have you ever seen a kid that doesn’t just rip a hat off of his head as soon as Mama puts it on?  I hadn’t, until you.  You must know their functional nature and know that they are good for you, because you always leave your fishing hat on when you are outside. 

Mama even got you a VERY dapper looking fedora for the Arts Festival, and you don’t mind that one either.  Where did you come from anyway?  Heaven?

Your other crowning achievement as “the best baby ever” came when you were 8 months old and you went on your first plane ride to Florida.  I had to go for a business trip, and it was a big and ugly decision to either leave you at home without Mama’s milk, or to bring you along on such a long trip, and long flight across the country.  With Dad’s help, we somehow packed allllllll of your baby stuff, your stroller, car seat, etc. and boarded the plane.  We were nervous that you would be one of those babies who cries the entire flight and has troubles with the air pressure in your ears. (“Goodbye, Jeffrey!!”)  We were all prepared with bottles for you to suck on and toys to distract you, but we didn’t even need those. You fell asleep before the plane took off, slept through take off, woke up for a bit and played, ate some yummies, and then fell back asleep before we landed. 

 We were pretty much in shock, and so was everyone else on the plane.  “He was such a good baby! I didn’t even hear him!”  We thought that we couldn’t get lucky more than once, but you have proven time and time again that you can handle plane rides.  You love playing with the safety information card, the tray table, the seatbelt, the plastic cups that they serve drinks in, and you love looking out the window at the clouds. 

The best plane trip ever was coming back from Pennsylvania with Grandma Shari.  It was such an early flight that I had to wake you from your peaceful slumber at 4:00 am Eastern time to head to the airport and I was so worried that you’d be super tired and cranky all day.  That was NOT the case. You charmed everyone in the security line, made friends at the Starbucks, slept for most of the flight, and then woke up about an hour before we landed in the BEST mood.  There were two ladies sitting behind us, and you started to play peek-a-boo with them.  Not just any old peek-a-boo, but laugh-hysterically-and-make-the-entire-three-rows-around-you-bust-into-belly-laughs-peek-a-boo.  You were smiling SO much and laughing SO hard that the entire plane couldn’t help but notice this adorable and mood-altering baby boy.  The woman behind us said that she wished she could bottle up your laugh and save it for a rainy day.  Another passenger said that the flight attendants could’ve held you up and entertained the whole plane with you, they didn’t even need a movie.  Townes, it is so much fun being your mom.  Everyone wants to smile at you, touch your beautiful soft skin, play with your light curly hair, and make you giggle.

I kept a log of all the places you’ve been.  You are quite the traveler!

·         November 12 – 14, 2010:  Off roading in Moab, UT with Crumleys, Emeri and Rylan

·         February 9 – 13, 2011:  Work trip to New Jersey and extended weekend in NYC with Emeri

·         February 22 -24:  Work trip to LA with Kevin

·         March 9 – 13:  Work trip to Las Vegas with Mason and extended weekend stay at the ARIA

·         March 15-17: Work trip to Seattle with Serena

·         April 21 – 24:  Camping trip to Gunlock Reservoir with the Crumleys

·         May 1 – 6: Work trip to Salida, Colorado with Mason and an extended stay in Colorado Springs

·         May 20 – 22:  Camping trip to Crack Canyon, UT with Crumleys, Annan & Jared

·         May 27 – 29:  Island Park cabin with Anne, David and Grace

·         June 17-18:  Camping trip with Fullmers and parents to Spruces Campground

·         September 7 -9:  Island Park fishing trip

·         October 4-6:  Snowbird

·         October 7-10: Eden / Pineview with the peeps

·         November 22-25:  Stargazer Ranch with Fetzers

·         March 28 – April 1, 2012:  Las Vegas with Mason for Connections and an extra night at the ARIA, and the Honeymoon Trail Inn in St. George (first cold L)

·         April 9 – 12:  Orlando with Mason and Dennis for work

·         April 21-24: Orlando with Mason and New Friend Kev for work (first beach trip!)

·         June 2:  Camping up Logan canyon with friends for Annan’s birthday

·         June 10-11:  NYC and New Jersey with Dennis and Grandma Shari (Saw Emeri and Dustin in NYC)

·         June 12-15:  Pennsylvania with Grandma Shari and Dennis

·         June 30-July 1:  Camping and fishing in Midway with Crumleys, Annan and Jared, and Barqueros

·         Upcoming:  July 7-15:  Sun Valley with the whole fam damily – Petersons, Fullmers and Grandma Shari!

·         Upcoming:  August 30 – September 4:  Huntington beach with the Fetzer Family!

So even if I don’t count the trips when you were in my tummy, you’ve still been to 7 states and you aren’t even a year old yet!  Utah, Idaho, Nevada, Florida, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania.  Add the other states (California, Washington, Colorado) and you’ve been to a total of 10.  Not too shabby.  I don’t think I hit 10 states until I was 25.

It’s been so much fun to watch you grow and grow and grow.  At 11 months, you weigh 23 pounds and you are soooooo tall. All I have to do is stand you up next to Ricky, Max, Sophie, Soren, etc. and it is quite clear that your father is 6’5’’.  I don’t want to jinx anything, but at this rate, you could definitely be some competition for your pops when it comes to height.  Here are your measurements and percentiles at your check-ups:

• Birth:  8 pounds, 21 inches
• 4 days old:  7.94 pounds, 21 inches (46^th and 84^th percentile)
• 2 weeks old:  8.75 pounds, 22 inches (57^th and 93^rd percentile)
• 2 months old:  14.38 pounds, 25 inches  (95^th and 97^th percentile!)
• 4 months old:  17.19 pounds, 27.5 inches (86^th and 99^th percentile)
• 6 months old:  18.38 pounds, 28.5 inches (68^th and 97^th percentile)
• 9 months old: 21.3 pounds, 30 inches (63rd and 94th percentile)
• 12 months old: 22.44 pounds, 32 inches (43rd and 96th percentile)

We are unhappily dreading the time (any day now) when you reach 25 pounds, because that’s when you can no longer use your door jumper anymore.  That thing has been such a treat.  You are so happy in your jumper, and you’ve never even jumped in it, not once! 

What you DO do in it (not doo doo in it) is run and swing.  You get that thing going sooo high and far that it was pretty scary for Mama and Dad to watch at first, but you quickly learned how to control your movement like a pro.  It only took one or two bumps to the head on the door frame, and you learned to put your arms out to stop yourself when you got too close.  You also love to play soccer in your jumper, and I’m not just being the Mom here, you are REALLY good at it.  We put the little basketball in front of you, and you kick it right back to us with such awesome form.  You even give it a little running approach and send it sailing.  Dad and I always joke that you’re going to be a jock just to spite us, but I of course will be cheering from the sidelines during whatever sporting or non-sporting event that you choose to participate in.  It’s not just your soccer ball that you love, you love ANY kind of round object.  You will often have a death grip on two balls WHILE you’re crawling around the house or pulling yourself up to the table.  Heaven forbid you should drop one!  No, never!  One time when Mama was picking out an onion at the grocery store, you started grunting and fussing and I couldn’t figure out why.  When I set the onion in the basket and you turned around and tried to grab it, I finally figured it out:  you thought the onion was a ball.  For you.  Of course.

In conclusion, I hope this silly letter has made it unequivocally clear that Mama LOVES you.  Having you is definitely the most important, joyous, crazy and wonderful thing I’ve ever done.  Thank you for filling me up with your light each and every day. Thank you for bringing tears to my eyes whenever I catch a glimpse of the pure and simple sweetness that is at your core.  I know there will come a day when you realize that I’m just a big dork, when I embarrass you in front of your friends, when I give you too many rules to obey, and when my love will feel overprotective.  At this moment though, I’m so happy to say that I know you love me as much as I love you.  I know you miss me when I am at work all day, and are so happy to see me when I walk through that door. I know that your smiles and giggles are so genuine.  I know that you are happy.  I know that those quiet moments we have when I’m feeding you at 4:00 am provide just as much sustenance as the milk itself. 

Townes, I’m so happy that you’re mine. Thank you for making me a Mama.

Love,

Carly