A word about my husband

I don't say much about my husband on this blog.

Sometimes, when he's angry with me, he'll tell me that what I say here makes it sound as though I'm raising our son alone. I'm certainly not. Declan is over the moon in love with his daddy. Dan has the patience to read all of the fine print in science books with him and the theatrical experience to make fiction exciting. They hit baseballs on our back deck and play Wizard of Oz in the park. They walk the dog and take out the garbage. When Dec misjudges one of leaps from the chair to the couch and whacks an elbow, Dan runs for the ice pack and applies it with the love and sympathy. He cooks. He cleans. He does all the stuff that certain people who perceive him as more of a rock and roll street icon would not imagine. Instead, I find that many imagine that he's not a sober person with a wife and a young child. At least that's what I gather from the expressions of several of the people who recognize him out in public, but not us, or his normal-looking lifestyle.

But he is a rock and roll street icon in our town, too. People stop and thank him for the music he brought into Columbus for so many years. There have always been rumors about him. Some of them are true. People like to ask about Nirvana or Buddy Guy or (insert band name here). We hear about shout-outs from touring acts when they play other places who miss being in his room.

When Little Brother's closed, I did a lot of writing here with his blessing, because it seemed like the best place to process what was happening. I still get visitors that come, page through everything within that tag and never return, because I'm not really who they're looking for. I'm okay with that.

Now that more than two years have passed since the club closed, he's finally succumbed to my needling (further suggested by all kinds of people) that he write down some of the experiences of that time. I hoped he would write down the stories he'll want his son to know when he's about 20 years old, and now he is, with a little bit of editing help from yours truly.

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Little Brother Blogs.

P.S. If you know Dan, you likely know that the blogging platform is pretty much made for him. Like many local folks, my first memories of him are standing behind the bar at Stache's, wearing shorts even if it was freezing outside and regaling his happy hour regulars with stories. All the while he'd be answering phone calls from booking agents, bands and a public that often didn't comprehend the concept of what a smaller venue devoted to live original music was.