I don’t have much time. This has to be quick. I’ve only got a few minutes before Linette gets back home and needs to get on the computer… She’s working on the Crimewave database this afternoon, while I’m writing out our Christmas cards… She just ran out to get address labels.

Linette encouraged me to go to see a friend of ours yesterday for a massage, which I did. It was my third massage. I think it helped lessen my anxiety a bit.

Isn’t that interesting? Aren’t you glad you decided to stop by MarkMaynard.com instead of flipping on the TV?

Linette and I went to a memorial service yesterday for our friend Steve’s mom. She just passed away after a long battle with cancer. It was a sad occasion, but it was good to see many old friends again. It was also nice to be at a ceremony where people were celebrating someone’s life and all of the great stuff she’d done, instead of just focusing on the death itself, as has been the case in the last few services I have attended.

As with any of these things, there was a lot of small talk. Following are a few things that stuck in my mind.

I learned that a guy that works for Steve, doing construction work, plays in a band called PEBLZ (pronounced “Pebbles,” like Fred Flintstone’s daughter). That stands for “Pink Floyd, ELO, Beatles, Led Zepplin.” They’re a cover band. They play songs by each of those groups, plus Jethro Tull and Pearl Jam. (I guess they couldn’t fit the J and the P into an acronym.) They apparently haven’t played out anywhere yet, but they practice every night in a trailor home somewhere outside of Detroit. If I understood correctly, he was at the memorial service earlier in the day handing out business cards for the band.

I may have not heard correctly. It was loud in the church. There were lots of people and they were all talking. Steve and I had a conversation earler in the afternoon about our friend Kari’s new boyfriend. I’d thought that Steve said he was a “scholar.” Later in the conversation, when I referred to him as a “scholar,” Steve cupped his hands over his mouth and slowly said “furnace installer.”

Anyway, I wish it had been under better circumstances, but it was nice to see Steve, his wife, Anne, and his brother, Greg, who, over a dozen years ago, I used to play in bands with. (We were never actually in the same band at the same time, but our bands (his: The Monarchs mine: Prehensile Monkey-tailed Skink) played together often.) I could go on and on about how great their family is and stuff, but if you know them you already know that. Steve and Greg are wonderful guys.

OK, I think I hear Linette pulling up outside, so I’ll go now. Hopefully, I’ll have a chance to get on later tonight.

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