I went to see Spirits in the Forest at the movies last night. The theater was packed, in other theaters. This one held about a dozen people, tops. I was sitting by myself when a guy asked if I wanted to sit with him and his friends. Usually I refuse but this time I said okay. I got to meet 6 people from various places who were also Depeche fans. Pictures were taken and so far not on social media. I did take these selfies. My skills still suck. The movie was great.
I went back for the second bag the next day. It was Sunday, colored tag day and the busiest day of the week. Tags of a certain color are 5 for $1, and it can get intense. It’s best to get there early if possible if only to get a shopping cart.
The second bag was there and I plucked it off the wall. Nobody in bags but me. I kept looking, my son wanted a tote bag for work and I can always use cloth grocery bags. I found a generic looking tote bag and a yoga mat bag for myself. Then I found a third DM messenger bag. According to the DM group the bag was exclusive swag for VIP ticket holders and not sold.
I took my stuff and got into the very long line. Blue tags were 5 for $1 and both DM bags had blue tags. So did the yoga mat bag. My total was $1.18.
I sent a bag to the woman who wanted one. She received it and was thrilled. I still have two, tucked in my closet like secret jewels.
I hit the jackpot today, thriftwise. I went into the store looking for sleep pants, didn’t find any I liked and then found This.
I am a Depeche Mode fan, have been since the Reagan administration last century. This is from the last tour, Spirit. I bought a $40 t-shirt, the most expensive garment I currently own. I also got a black tote bag and lanyard with my Tulsa VIP ticket. Haven’t used it yet. I went to 2 shows, in Dallas and Tulsa and they were both incredible and very intense. So I’m a fan, but don’t really have a lot of DM stuff.
I wasn’t sure this was for real but held it up and scrutinized it awhile. It did exist, and I decided I was getting it. This bag was sold on the tour, I don’t know how much it was originally, it probably cost more than my t-shirt. I looked at the tag, at this thrift the cost is half the price on the tag. This bag was fifty cents. Fifty cents! Then I saw there was another one just like it. I bought this one and reluctantly left the other.
After I got home I posted pictures online and a woman asked if I could get the other and she’d pay me for it. So tomorrow I go back and see if it’s still there. I am still stunned I found this but I’ve found extraordinary stuff at this store, like the Wings hockey bear and a Pendleton baby blanket.
About 24 hours ago I arrived back to my hotel in Tulsa, sweaty and exhilarated. Depeche Mode was at the BOK Center and I was there. I was on the floor, 9 rows back. Even the ushers told me I had a good seat when they looked at my ticket.
The whole experience was intense and I’m still trying to believe it really happened. My son came back last Thursday and came with me. That was wonderful and it’s been busy and surreal, another reason I’m still trying to believe it’s real. It’s a lot of good stuff I’ve looked forward to and at last it’s here almost at the same time. He didn’t go to the concert, and was okay with it, actually preferred it and I went on my own. People came from all over the US for this and I like to think they felt it was worth it. It was, to me. Security did take my sign, saying it was too big and I was very disappointed. At least I took a picture of the sign, it says Thank you Dave. I listened to a lot of Depeche and Dave’s other music after Jerry passed away, it was a place I felt safe and was a kind of therapy. They also kept us from standing in the aisles to take pictures and dance around. I can understand why, but this was a well behaved crowd, at least where I was. I screamed, danced and sang off key the whole night.
In the words of Martin L. Gore, words are unnecessary, they can only do harm. So here’s a bunch of pictures I took.
I went to see Depeche Mode in Dallas, first time in 3 years.
I wanted to hit some thrift stores but got lost and ended up near Love Field. Found a Sally Ann, huge store but overpriced but those could just be Dallas prices. Bought a black button up shirt for work, 6.99 and Boynton kids book .99. Perhaps another time
Doraemon came along for the ride
This dude was doing 25 mph on the highway. Even the cows on the side of the road looked disapproving.
The vest was uncomfortable and squished my boobs. My basic hotel room.
Wondered if Fletch has a side business.
Tells the story of it all. I got nachos instead.
I love this family. They were nice enough to pose for photos for squealing fans. Like me.
Crappy phone picture of Martin. I watched the show, will enjoy other people’s better concert photos. I was in the cheap seats, close to the lawn
After the show, waiting for the adrenaline to fade
Condensation on my sunglasses
My friend Gayle, still beautiful. We had lunch Saturday. She lives in Dallas
The last time I went thrifting was July, the memorial thrift trip I made for the 3rd anniversary of Jerry ‘s passing. I hit a different store and remembered why I hadn’t been here. They were playing country. I put in my earbuds.
I took pictures of my finds, they were not very good. I do not know how Instagram “models” do it, I admit I have more respect for their skills now.
This store has half price tags and nearly everything was marked down. Total was less than ten bucks.
Another long sleeve black top. I might wear this to the concert or just to work. Can’t have too many black tops.
Blue linen shirt. It’s after Labor Day and though those archaic rules may not still apply, I will wait til next Memorial day to bring this out. Loose, comfortable and I like the detail.
Black skirt, maybe my best score. Fabric is patterned, thought it was burned out velvet but more like embroidery. Like the silver belt buckle, will wear to Mass. Almost too ladylike for me but 1.49,why not?
I am getting a late start training for the Memorial race. I know I’ll be able to do the 5k but I want the half.
Jet lag, being sick and the weather have kept me from walking. I’m feeling better and have been out a total of 2 times. Both walks have been an effort; I felt my breath while walking and blew my nose along the way. I am determined to continue and slowly increase my distance until I can walk 14 miles and maybe run a little of it too. It’s not going to be anytime soon and I know it.
So tonight I went to a runner’s club meeting. A friend mentioned it on facebook and I was intrigued. She said she was probably going and that was all the incentive I needed. I have been curious about this especially since they train for the Memorial race and I need all the help I can get. I’m a little leery of joining a group since my walks are solitary and I prefer them that way. I hate feeling I’m slowing someone else down or having to adjust to a slower pace myself for another person. It’s easier to go at my own pace, whatever it might be on a given day. But I still wanted to see what they do.
I went and my friend bailed. I texted her and asked if she was coming. No, she was exhausted and needed to go home. Crap. I was sitting in a crowded room full of strangers, but fortunately they were all chatting with each other and I’m left alone. I’m not usually aware of race, the ethnic kind, but I noticed 4 black folks, 3 Asian and me, the rest looked like plain white folks. After my trip to Saigon I’ve noticed ethnic differences more, I’m not sure why.
The meeting starts and two people from the Memorial race are there. The first, an older man, tells us the course is a little different this year and that there’s going to be a 5th corral for walkers and slower runners. Personally I think putting people in corrals by race makes more sense, even with people ending up in the wrong corrals. But the criterion is speed, not my call but theirs. He shows us this year’s shirt, it’s blue. Previous years have been white. I like it. Then a woman tells us about the medals and passes them around. They are nice, and I notice the half marathon ribbon is yellow. I hold the medal a few seconds before passing it on. She passes around different shirts: the kids race, half and full finishers shirts. The marathon finisher shirt is green and gets a lot of oohs. The half shirt, the important one, is gray and yellow, with 13.1 in yellow letters on back. It’s a short sleeved tech shirt, v-neck and fitted. I want this shirt.
They had bragging rights, people who did a race or races since Oct 19 were asked to tell what they did. When they asked people what 5Ks they did I didn’t realize until the meeting started that I could have mentioned the Halloween race. Nobody else did that one. They went on to half, marathons and ultra races; each category got smaller until there were only 3 people who did an ultra race. There were door prizes and I won this.
With grilled cheese and diet cherry limeade. We need more cowbell.
I don’t know if I’ll join. I know my pace and distance is too slow and short for their marathon training runs. I rather get on with my slow but bad self and train on my terms. I am built for endurance not speed anyway. I like doing my walks with my earbuds on listening to DM. I read an interview with Dave and he admitted he was a runner. Even though he uses the evil that is the treadmill. I did a small shuffling happy dance with fist pumps when I read that. Olive danced around me too, she didn’t understand the reason why but just shared the joy.
The main thing is just getting out there. It’s freaking cold and even wearing layers it’s still freaking cold.
I was frustrated and went for a short walk tonight. I had to get out of the house, felt like I had to move because I’ve been eating too many protein bars and felt dull. Something that I’ve known for awhile made itself known again tonight, with force. I love Depeche Mode, I have since I was in high school and Dave’s voice, touched by God, has seared itself into me. Jerry wasn’t a big DM fan, the only song he knew was Just Can’t Get Enough, an early Vince Clarke pop number. I didn’t know this until after we were married and I won’t say it would have changed things but I’m not saying it wouldn’t but it’s a little late for that. I listened to my DM playlist while I walked, hit shuffle and shuffled myself.
First song up was Halo, the Goldfrapp version from the Sounds of the Universe tour. Something perfect happened; the combination of the music, the red leaves on the trees, the cool almost cold air and my fragile mood all blended. I was alone out there and let myself cry.
When our worlds they fall apart
When the walls come tumbling in
Though we may deserve it
It will be worth it
DM, rather Dave Gahan has an extraordinary effect on me. I understand the power of music to create or even force a mood, to provoke memories, to annoy and to give strength and comfort. That’s what Dave and his voice do for me. I listen to Dave sing and I become strong, I feel good, I feel acceptance, empathy, comfort. I feel energy and strength being poured into me. I feel like I am capable of doing anything, of achieving something worthwhile and being a person of consequence and power. Dave makes me feel like I’m a badass.
It doesn’t matter what era. I love Puppy Dave from the early 80’s, whose voice was still immature but beautiful, a hint of what was to come. Dave from the late 80’s, when DM hit it big and he was at his most gorgeous, after his unfortunate blond period. His voice still had softness at the edge, still open and innocent. Then the dark days, the 90’s and Dave during his heroin period, when he was skinny, sick and had long hair. He looked good with long hair. Ironically he was at his peak and his voice was like beautiful polished stones. Despite his body falling apart he sounded great and even sick and addicted he was still Dave. Dave was still in there, the addiction was terrible and strong but he was stronger. He was Dave Fuckin’ Gahan and no one could deny he lived through those words. After Dave got clean he was older, he was a grown-up but he still had the power and intensity inside, it came out rolling in waves of melody and a deeper sound. His voice was deeper, the puppy softness had long gone and there was some strain in his voice. What looked effortless now took some work. Twenty first century Dave, in his 40’s and now 50’s is amazing. He’s still performing, still can hold the notes and work an audience like nobody else 30 years later. He’s officially middle-aged, he wears suits and looks more like a movie star than a rock star. But he is still Dave and he never lets you forget it. He’s no nostalgia act even though he’s still singing songs Martin wrote over 20 years ago but they still sound fresh. It’s almost like a conversation, memories shared between friends, bittersweet and triumphant, over what was, what happened, what didn’t, and that we managed to live through it, to somehow survive only Lord knows how. Or why. It’s resilience and regret, pulled into a beautiful, delicate and sharp edged ornament.
Dave’s voice sunk into my heart, my ears and emotions a long time ago. I liked DM, like Martin, liked Vince and liked Alan, different as they were they were pure DM. I even like Fletch, I remember when he seemed to be important to the band, I like Christian and Peter, who are still technically hired hands but to most younger fans they are members of DM too. I can see them that way but DM is still Dave, Martin and Fletch far as I’m concerned. The band changed over 30 years, that’s putting it lightly. Dave changed, I changed and from a vantage point I can see that we both survived some hard painful times, our own tragedies, dealt with being parents and along the way we somehow became adults, real functioning adults. That Dave is a rock star and I’m obviously not, that we’re total strangers doesn’t make a difference. Dave understands, empathizes and he doesn’t judge. And I’m healed, at least for awhile. Behold the phases of Dave.
adorable puppy Dave, Vince Clarke era
Rock Star, late 80’s, perfection
Heroin addict, mid 90’s, listen to that voice
Rock God or Oh My Lord, early 2000’s
Soulsavers Dave, this week. Still in awe
Jerry’s favorite DM song as it was back in the day