If Anyone Falls: My 24 Karat Night with Stevie Nicks

What can I say when I’m speechless? I suppose that’s why they call it speechless and why it’s taken so long after the show for me to begin to comprehend what I was going through for the 90 minute-plus Stevie Nicks show at Houston’s Toyota Center on October 29, 2016. As the show began to wrap up and I knew the Goddess of Rock and Roll was about to leave my presence, words did come to mind, but they were not the kind of words I’d want my grandmother to read. If you are sensitive to salty language or are my grandmother, skip the next sentence. “Fuck, shit, dammit, oh my gods!” I’m not sure why these words came to mind, other than the fact that I was simply speechless and overcome by emotion as I once again witnessed the twirly, lace-ridden, husky-voiced poet sing her heart out to the crowd. And I didn’t want it to end. 

 

At least I had matured. I still recall the times she would take to the stage and I would weep like a girl; and finally understand the reaction of so many youth to the Beatles. Stevie is my Beatles, and so much more. Her songs have inspired me. Her poetry and lyrics are crafted in ways that have really made me think about how songs are written. The way she has managed her desires to be a singer, to be on stage, to be a rock star, and her careful crafting of her image are things many artists and fans look up to.

My fascination for her began in the 80s Mirage era Fleetwood Mac; music videos of her sitting in the desert on a settee in a red dress; her gypsy visage twirling through glitter and in the rain. She had me with her vision, her words and that voice.

Circumstances kept me from seeing her previous two tours, but having seen her live so many times...and honestly, I can’t count them all, having seen her usually more than once for each tour...I’m sure it’s more than twenty times...it was disappointing but not something I couldn’t live through.

It was with this in mind, the fact that I’d not spent money on seeing her in five years, that had me splurge on this tour, buying VIP tickets, seated fifth row center, and receiving some nice gifts in the mail. I splurged on my finery, as well, taking advantage of the show being just days before Halloween. I felt if there was a time to really deck myself out for a show in the conservative city of Houston, this was my chance. I wore my double-breasted waistcoat with tails, bedecked with crowns, ribbons and a photo button of Miss Nicks. And the pièce de résistance...an imperial crown covered in jewels.

There were several reasons behind the imperial look. I felt like it. I’d spent a lot of money on this show, and wanted to look like I had. I worked very hard to clear my schedule to attend, and I wanted to make an impact. I liked the idea of thinking that after the show, Stevie and her band would be discussing the performance and the crowd, and surely, Miss Nicks would posture, “Did anyone see the guy wearing the crown?” Yup. A lot of people did. I was hard to miss, even from up on stage.

Penguin in heaven in his front and center seat

As I neared the arena, I started hearing comments and feeling stares. I was expecting a lot of questions, “Who are you supposed to be? Where are you from? Why are you wearing that?” But instead of negativity, what I got was more along the lines of, “Wow, I love your crown. You look great! Your highness! Hey, King!” I also got a lot of photo requests and was more than happy to oblige, especially for the two young women from Puerto Rico. There were a lot of high fives and when complimented, I was sure to do so in return. If they’re going to lift me up, I’ll bring them along with me.

My favorite comment, heard more than once, was the question of where my queen was. The simple, obvious answer being, “Back stage, getting ready for the show.” It was fun standing out in the crowd and seeing people out of the corner of my eye taking photos of me.

Chrissie Hynde

One of the first things to really hit me about the night, as the lights dimmed for the opening act, was how, in my anticipation to see Stevie in concert, I’d neglected to remember that the opening act was also one of my all-time favorites- The Pretenders. Chissie Hynde’s voice, after all these years, is still phenomenal! She hit the highs as if this were still 1986 and she seemed vibrant and lively. One could tell she was enjoying being on stage with James Wallbourne and the rest of the great band. She played a few songs I was not familiar with, then a bunch of the ones I knew well, so I stood and sang along and danced.

James Walbourne

I could have listened to The Pretenders for much longer than their allowed time on stage, but the real reason for the night was, after all, Stevie Nicks. During the transition on stage, I was able to visit a close friend to pass the time.

The Pretenders

Waddy Wachtel

The hall darkened. The crowd rose and cheered. Old, familiar faces came on stage; her lead guitarist, Waddy, her musical director, Carlos, her singers, Sharon and Marilyn. Then, from the darkness and into the spotlight...Miss Nicks, all smiles, clad in flowing black gowns and glowing blond hair.

She commanded the stage, singing like an angel, chatting the audience up a bit, commenting on the history of the songs she was singing. The band was great and while I went into this thinking I would not bother with any photos, I couldn’t resist taking a few.

 Chrissie joins Stevie for Stop Draggin' My Heart Around

As for being noticed, I could tell that I was. While singing “If Anyone Falls”, the second song in the set, she gave me the ‘I see you’ sign, moving her two fingers from her eyes to mine. I thought I’d drop to my seat, but I just smiled, gave her a wink, and kept singing along. My wild heart beating heavily.

Rhiannon was performed, and when singing, “Rulers make bad lovers, you better put your kingdom up for sale…” she looked right at me and placed her hand above her head to mimic a crown! I nearly died.

I’ve been on stages and I know the light can be blinding and the crowd difficult to see, and this is why it’s great to be so close to the stage when you want to be seen by the artist. She was only about 20 feet away from my seat. I am sure she didn’t, and it’s all in my head, but all evening, it was as if she was watching me as much as I was watching her. It seemed as if she was watching me sing along with her. I just hoped I wouldn’t mess her up, as she’s known for changing words or the cadence of live songs. For much of the show, I felt as if it was just she and I standing in a room singing along together. I focused on her, watching her eyes seemingly look straight back to me, caressing the ribbons on her mic stand and belting out classic after classic.

Between songs, I would cheer and shout things to her. She commented on her song Annabel Lee about taking great poems and putting them to music as a way to get around not being a good song poet. I shouted that she WAS a great poet. She looked back at me and gave me a smile before starting the next song. My heart be still!

As the show progressed, I kept thinking how the set list was one of the best I’ve ever heard her perform. She did so many of her greats and so many of the little gems she loves from her last album, 24 Karat Gold. When she twirled, the crowd went wild. When she sang, the crowd sang along. When the band rocked it, the crowd danced. And there was Penguin, in his crown and impressive jacket, cheering, singing and dancing all night long. It was over too soon!

My escape back home was quick, save for the fellow concert goers asking for photos and commenting on my regalia. I loved the attention. The night was all about Stevie, and my attire showed others the degree to which I had made my night about her. I got to my car quickly and encountered very little traffic, almost as if I had a ghost police escort and my pretend entourage was quickly on the freeway headed back to my home in north Houston. King Penguin’s audience with Stevie Nicks now just a memory pulsating in my head and veins.

“Did she make you cry? Make you break down? Shatter your illusions of love?
Is it over now? Do you know how to pick up the pieces and go home…” (From her song, Rhiannon.)

Yes. Nearly. Not exactly. It is. I am learning...but home is always changing and growing and I’m glad to have grown along with my favorite artist, Stevie Nicks. Please hurry back, Miss Nicks! The evening exceeded my expectations and I could use another dose of that kind of magic!

Stevie rocks it with Sharon and Marilyn

Set List:

Gold and Braid

If Anyone Falls

Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around (with Chrissie Hynde)

Belle Fleur

Outside the Rain

Dreams

Wild Heart

Bella Donna

Annabel Lee

Enchanted

New Orleans

Starshine

Moonlight (A Vampires’ Dream)

Stand Back

Crying in the Night

If You Were My Love

Gold Dust Woman

Edge of Seventeen

Encore:

Rhiannon

Leather and Lace

The Bell Rang

Well, that didn’t go quite as planned. It started out fantastic. I was 100% committed. I had planned...in fact, started doing so about 9 months ago, before I even purchased this home. But I could see it all quickly going downhill. My plans were not thorough enough. I'd miscalculated.

While not a complete failure, and how could it have been for all the planning, this was not how I wanted my first Halloween to go down in my new neighborhood. My reputation was on the line here. The house had been vacant for over a year before I moved and who knows what kind of people were living here before me? I had to do well!

Penguin on Halloween

The real work began about a month ago. I was the second house in the neighborhood to decorate for Halloween. I would have done so much sooner, but I didn’t want to be ‘that’ guy...the weird fellow who keeps to himself, hardly seen, yet puts out the jack-o’lanterns and orange lights just after the Forth of July. (I would have if I thought I could get away with it.) Once I saw that first house put their decorations out, it was on! Lights in the bushes, skulls, pumpkins, bats and a scary cat.

A week ago, after seeing some awesome party lights at a Halloween event I attended in Portland, OR, I added white dancing spiders and green floating witches that illuminated the front of my house. A few days ago I added a witch’s head, an arm reaching out from the bushes, and skulls on strings. I had a bat hanging from my porch light and 3 skulls on stakes, which lit up. And for the grand night, itself, I added a strobe light just behind the jack-o’lanterns that have kept watch over my yard from the living room windows the past month.

Just inside the hallway I set up a small table on which I put a creepy table cloth, 2 more jack-o’-lanterns, a candelabra covered in spiders and a few creepy grotesque faces with my bowl of treats. This year, I was giving out packages of Danish cookies! I had enough for 50 little ones; the little trick or treaters in their cute costumes, shyly (in only some cases, as it would turn out) pressing forth their plastic pumpkins, back packs or just plain old plastic grocery bags to gather their plunder of tootsie rolls, jolly rogers, dots, sour patch kids and fun-sized snickers to fill their lunch boxes until Christmas break, if they’re lucky! All that and the Danish cookie, I was giving out.

My table and treats

I’ve not done this in over 8 years. I’ve either lived in places inaccessible to kids (I lived in a back yard in-law apartment for six years in Pacifica, CA) or for 7 years I worked at a haunted house every October and was never home for Halloween. I’m out of practice. It’s a new neighborhood. I was not prepared for the amount of garbed little ones, and a few bigger ones in no costume at all. There were so many and they seemed to descend like starved locusts.

The first bell rang later than I was expecting; just after 7PM. It was a ninja and a little princess. Dressed in a black hooded robe, I answered the door, “You rang?” and acted like I had no idea that it was Halloween. Yeah, I always dress like this and I always have a dish of treats at the door! They loved it, though. And the next little dude, all of 7 years of age, dressed in regular clothes but wearing the mask of an old crotchety man (hello, mirror?) complimented my costume 5 times! He was my favorite!

A very young Penguin as Batman

Then came the Batmen and Supermen, an Incredible Hulk and an Elsa. There was a witch and several zombies. Each of the little ones wearing skeleton shirts I told, “You better eat your treats, you’re nothing but skin and bones!” The helicopter parents were there with many of them, keeping them safe, reminding them to say thank you, and in a few cases having to queue them, “Say trick or treat!” I must have been one of their first stops!

My cookies garnered many warm responses, but were dwindling fast. They came in groups. Each time the bell rang, there were 6, 9, or 12 kids. They traveled in packs. Or is it a murder? No, I’m pretty sure that’s only crows. It wasn’t 7:30 yet, and I was headed to the kitchen for the rest of the bag of cookies. Not enough. Soon, the bowl only had 3 cookies left! I began to panic.

What now? I looked through the pantry. I eyed tea sachets and packets of hot sauce. (Well, this IS Texas!) I began to sweat. I could hear more children coming down the street, see the SUVs and large pickup trucks slowly creeping down with them to keep an eye on things. The dark side of me began to think, the character that for so many years pulled the kind of screams from men and women that you normally only hear in horror movies, but this was no movie, it was me, a scary clown, looking at them and screaming back, “What are we screaming for? CLOWNS? I HATE clowns! Hehehehehe!” Being Whispers the Clown, making people scream and in some cases, wet their pants, was so therapeutic. It still is, when I get the chance...

Whispers the Clown, my alter ego

I remembered the kid, Charlie Brown. Everyone loves him. Everyone remembers how he went trick or treating and kept getting rocks. I could make the children’s day, I could send them away to actually say, “I got a rock. That weird guy that no one ever sees, who put out all the creepy things in his yard the day after Valentine’s Day, he gave me a rock.” But the sane part of me took over. I don’t take returns and I know that chances are good that giving a rock would only mean I’d be getting them back...and with shards of glass to have to clean up, as well.

Back to the pantry, the children, getting louder. I couldn’t turn my lights off just yet, it wasn’t even 8. Eureka! There were 3 bags of brownie brittle and 5 single sized bags of kettle corn. The bell rang. The bell rang. Then a knock. Eager little things. A pirate, a police officer, a parrot girl, 2 zombies, a princess and 2 skeletons...they took all I had. I saw more a few houses down. Those packets of hot sauce were starting to sound doable!

Back to the pantry. I had a box of pumpkin-shaped cookies; individually wrapped. I also had a box of chocolate chip granola bars. These were my little treats I travel with for those early morning flights when there isn’t much time for breakfast. Into the treat bowl they went. The pumpkin cookies went first. Then I started handing out the granola bars. I didn’t mention what I was putting in their treat bags. I didn’t want to be known as the guy who ran out of candy too early and started giving away odd items from all over the house (I actually eyed a cat toy for about 1/100th of a second). 

My house lit up at night

The bell rang, a couple of middle school aged boys with really no costume at all were standing before me. I silently threw the granola bars into their bags, hoping they wouldn’t notice until they got home. Damn the luck, as I closed the door, I heard the older boy exclaim, “He gave me a 90 calorie granola bar!” I’d never noticed they were only 90 calories! But there, in the dark, in my front yard, he could determine what I’d thrown into his bag, grabbed it, and the first thing he noticed was 90 calories. That guy’s going far in life, let me tell you!

I went back to the living room and took a seat. My neighbor across the street was entertaining a group I’d seen earlier. She closed the door and the kids, parents in tow, walked down the street. The lights in the house went off. First the porch lights, then the upstairs lights with the dragon in the window, then the inflatable pumpkin that had been puffed up for the past 3 weeks deflated and was now flat on the ground like a cow patty. They were done. I looked at my bowl and saw my last 4 granola bars. The clock chimed. It was 8 o’clock.

I went outside and looked up and down the street. Nothing. I was done. I had made it. I turned off my light show of spiders and witches. I unplugged the orange lights in the bushes and the 3 glowing skulls. I extinguished the jack-o’lanterns and stopped the strobe. Finally, the front porch light went off. 

Witches and spiders on my house

From outside, I could hear a groan and a small symphony of “Aww”s. I looked through the peep hole and saw a couple with a cute little girl in a ballerina outfit and her brother in a SWAT officer costume. I turned the porch light back on, opened my door and heard them exclaim, “Yay, he’s our hero, the best decorated house in all the land. His costume is the most awesome costume. All hail the great one who reveres Halloween and gives out the best treats. Behold the fall gourds carefully carved and still glowing, not from fire within, but from the sheer joy of celebrating the fall seasonal holiday of Halloween. Yay, oh yay!” 

OK, maybe some of that was just in my head, and I apologized that all I had left were a few more granola bars. But, hey, they’re only 90 calories each. I’ll do better next year! I promise.

Pumpkins, bats and the light show

Adventures in Life: The Apartment

Apartment #1 on bottom left, this was the front door.

I love going back in time. It's not so hard to do when you live in your home town. Every few years I enjoy driving back through my old neighborhood and seeing how things have changed. The U-Totem convenience store is gone, along with the old washateria next to it. It's now a bright, shiny new home store. The old GM dealership on the corner is a beauty supply mega-store. The old House of Pies is still there, and then there is the apartment.

The old House of Pies on Kirby Dr., a Houston institution

The apartment I have the most memories of- some of the first and most impressionable memories of my childhood- is on the borders of the artsy Montrose and the affluent River Oaks section of Houston. This is the apartment were I went to kindergarten; I still remember Mom taking pictures of me and my friend, Dallas, on the day I started first grade. Wow, I had a friend named Dallas! In the alley behind the apartment is where I learned to ride a bike...my first bike, a Christmas gift, as was my first Lego set.

 

This is where I learned to ride a bike and I played in that very puddle of water!

This was the apartment where I lost my first pet dog in a battle with a car on nearby Kirby Dr. This is the apartment of my first pet cats, who had kittens in the living room. This is the apartment where I first noticed airplanes in the sky, where I played with Yvette in the bushes under my window, where I admired all the Halloween candy from the mansions a few blocks away, where I played in puddles after a rain and where, one day, I got in trouble for throwing rocks at passing cars. I was four...I had no idea that was bad. But I learned!

Mom was young and struggling after her divorce to a man who turned out to be a selfish, egotistical piece of work. When her struggle became too much, she would walk me onto an airplane and send me to my grandparents. This is the reason I'm so close to my family, and Mom's independence and ability to overcome her struggles was passed on to me.

For years I've driven by this apartment and watched as it got new paint jobs, new flowers in the yard, new curtains in the windows. Eventually, some of the neighboring apartments were torn down and up went shopping strips of furniture and children's toy stores. Then today, some 44 years after I lived there, as I drove back in time, my old apartment itself has been turned into a store! It's now an annex of the very store that overtook the neighboring buildings.

These door used to the our covered parking space.

I had planned to park and take some photos, afraid that one day soon, I'd drive by and it would be gone. But I guess that apartment had good bones, for there it was, just as I remembered it, except that the front yard was now paved for cars to park and people shopped for home goods in the place where all my oldest memories were formed. If they only knew! I went inside; something I'd longed to do for oh, so many years.

I walked into what used to be my living room. I could still see the Christmas tree and remember asking Mom how Santa was going to enter without our having a chimney. She told me he had magic keys and would walk in the front door, which was now blocked by a table showing off fancy plates and glassware. This was the room where I discovered Batman on TV, would first watch The Wizard of Oz and laugh at the antics of The Three Stooges before leaving for school (the Montessori school I attended is still there). This was the room my father got into an argument with a man my mother was dating. It made me cry, as it was the first time I realized that my father was flawed.

It was in this corner Mom had our Christmas tree.

As I walked to where my bedroom used to be, I could see where the window was, now blocked by a shelf full of stemware. The space between our apartment and the building next to it has been connected, so instead of the large bushes just outside are now candles and fancy candle holders. That window was home to the air conditioner, that beautiful machine. I loved the sound it made, lulling me to sleep and the cold breeze it provided on sultry Texas nights.

The window of my bedroom used to have a large bush.

Suddenly, I realized that I was standing in the place where, each night, I would lie my head and fall into dream land. The glasses on the shelves blurred through the tears forming in my eyes. I could still see the walls that were now gone, and the posters I had hanging over my bed; see the hole in the ceiling of the bathroom that fell in after the upstairs flooded. (I was able see the upstairs neighbor's tub when that happened!)

You can see where the walls were. Upper right was the corner of my bedroom; left was the kitchen.

To my right was where my Mom's room was. I could still see her teasing her hair in front of the mirror in the corner. Beyond her room was the small 1-car covered parking space. And behind me was where our kitchen used to be, the same kitchen Mom worked so hard on to paint...yellow and orange, if I remember correctly. She was such an artistic rebel!

Standing in Mom's bedroom, the kitchen was on the left and my room was behind that column.

From the living room looking to the back of the apartment.

Now, it was all a huge showroom for Kuhl-Linscomb, a top-end design and lifestyle store. The hardwood floors were now stained concrete, but one can still see where the walls used to be. So many memories from 44 years ago came flooding back as I looked around. This is where I learned to tie my shoes. This is where I watched Carol Burnett. This is where Mom cut her wrist on broken glass and I remembered how badly I felt for her while she cried as we drove to the hospital. This is where I lived when I first went to Astroworld (gone), first went ice skating at the Galleria, first ate wonderful greasy burgers at the Purple Cow down the street from Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips (both gone). 

Where the bathroom used to be. You can see the hole in front of the column where the toilet was.

The thrill I had in riding my bike up the parking garage of the building around the block, the top from which I could see the Astrodome, was still with me. I loved that damned building with it's magical light-up scoreboard with fireworks displays, eventually removed for more seats; yet another sad change from my childhood. Some of the quirky apartment homes in the neighborhood that I loved remain, but many have been torn down and converted to townhomes. How times have changed...how many 4 and 5 year-olds ride their bikes without supervision in the busy streets of Houston today? 

Of the quirky apartment buildings still stands a block away.

So if you find yourself in building 3 of K-L looking at wine glasses, this is where a very young Penguin would attempt to make himself appear hot at night so Mom would turn on my air conditioner, allowing me to sleep better. (To this day, I still sleep with a fan at night.) Take care of my apartment Kuhl-Linscomb. I want to come back and visit again. The old apartment has changed. But so have I...and Mom, too. Just like that home to a single mother struggling to make ends meet and raise her son, now a quaint shop of high-end home décor, we've come a long way and are doing much better for ourselves. And don't worry about Santa, he's gotten in just fine before!

Where this pickup is parked used to be a large bush under which I would play with Yvette and Dallas.