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3 years ago this is how I promoted BEEP GOES THE WEASEL at Salon Kitch. My facebook post read like this: “tomorrow night @ 6pm we’ll return to the scene of the crime (Salon Kitch) for Beep Goes The Weasel — carrots will be crushed! mangoes will be mashed! we’ll beep until we hear sirens AND THEN WE’LL BEEP SOME MORE!!!!” No matter what I did, I never got too weird for Kitch.

It was better than Bugs Bunny on a Saturday morning. Yesterday when I woke up I saw that Ian Mull had recorded one of my songs late Friday night. It was one of the songs I played with Chris (Ian’s dad) when we called ourselves The Subs between 2007-2011. My oldest niece, Molly, lived in the Czech Republic years ago. She sent us emails describing her time there and eventually I wrote a song about it. No one has covered my material and then posted it on facebook and instagram. Ian’s the first. I was blown away. You can click here to see him play and sing Molly Writes a Letter. You can click below to hear the original.

Nancy Adamson is the latest guest on THE EPILOGUE CABIN. In this episode we’ll find out why she used to put mentholatum up her nose, how she learned to pop a shoulder back into place, and why she started baking fruitcakes!

The kid in the middle must have gone to Surf City where there’s “two swingin’ honeys for every guy, and all you gotta do is just wink your eye.” I found this on gotweird’s instagram page. The actual caption says: “A young visitor to Hyde Park, with two life-size dolls, ca. 1938.” So many questions are going through my head right now… Did the boy have real friends? Who is the shadowy photobombing figure behind them? How are the girl dolls standing upright? Why doesn’t he have boy dolls?

I’ve watched every episode of M*A*S*H a million times. My family gathered around the TV for the show’s finale in 1983. Even though we all said “Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen” 37 years ago, it’s still easy to get sucked into watching an occasional rerun. Back in October I found MASH Matters, a podcast that dives deeper into old memories, and a few weeks ago I found every episode of MASH on archive.org with an odd subtraction– no laugh track. It’s a very different experience to watch those old shows without hearing canned laughter. Taking away the expected audience response actually adds something new, and sometimes jarring.

Last night Jenny’s family set up a video conference call on Zoom. It was like Hollywood Squares. Originally I wasn’t going to be part of the call, but then Jenny got another Zoom call that she had to take, so I sat in. I took a screenshot to capture the moment. The family that zooms together, stays together.

When someone says “I came across this yesterday,” that usually means they found something online. In this time of contact free isolation, it feels like a rare taboo treat when you can see and touch something safely. I didn’t exactly touch it, but there is some sidewalk chalk art that’s across the street from our house that is a reflection of the times we’re living in. First I walked over it. Then I recorded it. Stay safe everyone.

Nancy Adamson will be the next guest on THE EPILOGUE CABIN. I mostly remember her playing in the high school band with my sister. Nancy has recently spent more time baking. She told me about her cinnamon rolls and green frosted pastries, but then she remembered baking something else that her family never ate while she was growing up…

We couldn’t all be together for a birthday party– but we could all drive in single file for a birthday parade! Over the weekend we met with 6 other vehicles in an undisclosed location to decorate our cars and trucks for the occasion. Lincoln and Adalyn turned 3– they are our great nephew and niece, Chris & Chelsea’s twins. Jenny & I decorated both sides of the truck because we knew we would drive by twice. Afterward we drove 45 minutes to Art & Tammi’s house to see their Easter display. They live east of the stadium.

We were quarantined. We wanted to connect to something. At one point, a small group of us were huddled around our computers, laptops, and smartphones to watch this old movie from 1924. Downbeat Coffee has been hosting watch parties in their small attic space for the last few years. With the recent shelter-in-place situation, they haven’t been able to do it– but last Saturday, they streamed it on Facebook. There were only 20 of us watching, but it was still cool. We were chatting online while the movie played, and it felt good to know we weren’t alone.