tag:brentallen.net,2005:/blogs/blogBrent Allen Blog2021-01-31T21:08:45-06:00Brent Allenfalsetag:brentallen.net,2005:Post/65359792021-01-31T21:08:45-06:002021-01-31T21:08:45-06:00Farewell, sir<p>I’ve always considered myself a regular guy - nothing special. Ask any one of my closer friends, and they’d agree with that statement. I don’t have an ego, and I’m pretty much one of the most humble guys you’d ever know. But after writing up that new bio the other day, I felt nearly every moment I’ve had during my career again, and it was hard to not want to put everything I was feeling into it that could easily have ended up being more than just the 6 pages it became. I had actually gotten a little over 5 that morning, and by the time I got back home from work to do some editing on it, it grew to over 6. I really wanted to add more to the 1995 CMA story, as well as the 1999 trip and the Stars Over Texas show - 2 things I’d forgotten to mention but added the context of just how lucky I was and how the odd things just kept happening, almost completely at random. Like the fatefulness of the things that shouldn’t have kept on happening to me, but did, for a while it just seemed like the universe just kept on intervening. </p>
<p>I had another several of those moments over this past weekend when I felt compelled, almost by instinct and intuition, that it was necessary. I’m certainly not making the same kind of money I was at this point last year, so spending money on new clothes wasn’t in the budget. But something inside me just told me that everything was going to be ok, and I just needed to be there. James White was an Austin icon, and although I can only count on a few times of performing at the Broken Spoke, the stories I can tell from just being there, being close to the people there or just absorbing the history of it couldn’t be dismissed in the hundreds of times I was there. There’s so many amazing stories that could literally fill up the entire venue to the point of it bursting at the seams, and I can only tell a few. No one who has ever been there can tell you of all of the times where Mr. White and just being there was nothing short of magical. </p>
<p>The job I had for the last few years had taken me away from so many of my musical extended family in Austin that I wasn’t even sure if anyone would remember me all that well. That and the fact that most people’s faces, including mine, were hidden under masks, sunglasses and cowboy hats. I was also attending by myself didn’t make things much easier when emotions were getting the better of me. </p>
<p>I don’t do well at wakes, and couldn’t make it over to the viewing last Thursday, so I thought I was able to get around not seeing him. The casket, however, was open when I got there, so the last image my mind’s eye will see is of him in that state. I went and gave Annetta a hug, and turned over to James to pay my final respects. My spiritual side has, admittedly, been taking a lot of blows over the years, but I was compelled to take off my hat, bow my head and say a silent prayer for the man who was now lying before me. No one was watching me, and everyone deals with death in their own way, even though less than 24 hours prior, I felt I needed to get a shirt I couldn’t afford, a haircut I could’ve waited on, and clean a hat I hadn’t worn in ages. I wiped away the tears that had welled up in my eyes, and walked around to find a recognizable face to share my sorrow, but that wouldn’t happen until after the service was over. </p>
<p>Today was another one of those times where I felt close to greatness, but still was in awe of how I came to be there. The energy of the environment was all around those of us who were in attendance at the White Family Ranch. A lot of the names that are easily recognizable were there, but I don’t think it’s necessary to drop them since the day wasn’t about them, but rather for the White family and the loss of their patriarch. There were plenty of anecdotes, stories, tears, laughter and songs throughout, even during a time where we’re all not entirely sure how to show grief, hugs and sympathy at 6 feet away while wearing a mask. Also, as a surprise to the family during the ceremony, the owners of several Nashville bars (including Ernest Tubb’s Record Shop) presented Annetta with a long-lost hat that ET, himself, had worn which was to be donated to the ‘Tourist Trap’ at the Spoke. I’ve, long, been a fan of Ernest Tubb and loved being present during that moment. </p>
<p>But somehow, even through it all, being around my friends, peers, fellow musicians, and people who were all there to honor a true Austin icon felt like home to me. I hadn’t seen many of these people in years, and it was like no time had passed at all. </p>
<p>Remember when I said a few weeks back where you can just feel the energy pouring through you? </p>
<p>Those times are rare these days, and I’m profoundly grateful to have had that opportunity again today. </p>
<p>As I close this entry, the resounding theme of the service was very simple. Many people have been concerned about the future of The Broken Spoke, now that Mr. White has passed on. He may be gone, but one of the last True Texas Honky Tonks will go on, so long as the rest of us show up and visit often. Austin, Texas may be changing, and the Spoke will endure if we all do our part to keep it that way. So, go and check it out soon, if you haven’t already. You’ll be glad you did. </p>
<p>RIP and Godspeed, sir. Thank you for so many memories. </p>Brent Allentag:brentallen.net,2005:Post/65115972021-01-01T08:23:59-06:002021-01-01T08:23:59-06:00Day Number One<p>Well, hello there and welcome to the first day of the year 2021! I know there are quite literally millions of us who were so ready to see 2020 finally come to an end, me being one of them. I had no interest in getting out and doing anything to celebrate it because I was already worn out from a long day at work Wednesday, watching some of the Florida/Oklahoma game and only getting a few hours sleep before having to wake up at 5:30 yesterday morning. And even though I was already in bed by midnight last night, I did technically ring in the New Year with my good friends in the UK last night at 6pm via Zoom. It was really great to see them all again. </p>
<p>I had also made a personal commitment to myself to not drink last night and, as of this entry, I haven’t had anything since last Saturday night. That is particularly significant since, for the most part, I’d gotten in the habit of drinking something nearly every day, and then eventually every day. After all, I had money, couldn’t get out much except to play golf, and couldn’t find the right fit for a job. What else is there to do during a lockdown, right? And there were plenty of others I hung out with last year who were doing the same thing, so I didn’t really give it much thought. </p>
<p>And just as 2020 has taught most of us, it was easy and even acceptable to drink every day because, hell, why not? But I have so many things I’m planning on doing during this new year, especially regarding my creative passions, that I decided last week that it’s time to close up the liquor cabinet, put the cork back in the bottle, and get back on the right track, both physically and mentally. It wasn’t going to be a resolution, either. After all, a new goal is a new goal and doesn’t really need a start date - just the willingness to shake off the cobwebs and do something that you know you need to be doing, but can’t seem to find the motivation to do it. Mine was finally having enough of tossing and turning during the night, and getting virtually no sleep on evenings when I didn’t have anything to sedate me into falling asleep and staying that way during the night. </p>
<p>It certainly has helped that I have a regular schedule now and expect to put my best effort into the job, but the feeling of clarity and lack of brain fog has motivated me to want to keep that trend going, perhaps even longer after the ‘Dry January’ that I volunteered to do with some of my friends I play golf with regularly. Back in 2019, I did the same thing while I was back in Colorado and ended up not having anything to drink for about 45 days, and I felt really good. During this past week already, even after a couple of days of sobriety, my creativity was starting to generate some new ideas, and 2 nights ago, despite wanting to watch my Longhorns play their final bowl game, I turned it off when it was a clear win, and slept through the night with no issues. And even funnier still, as I was putting some things together yesterday, I found myself bobbing my head, headphones in my ears and smiling as I was listening to KNBT playing a favorite Mavericks tune “Back In My Arms Again”, and then immediately followed by Asleep at The Wheel’s cover of “Take Me Back to Tulsa”. And if you know me, and how much I’ve never really considered myself as a dancer, then the image of me grooving should make you smile, too. :) </p>
<p>Having to move back to Austin with my folks, and also during a pandemic has obviously forced me to adapt to doing things differently again. Even as I’m writing this, from my perspective, it still doesn’t feel like it’s a new year, since 1 day of 2020 was equivalent to 34 days in dog years. But now that I’m more focused, motivated and driven to shake off the wounds and thoughts that took their toll on me in one of the worst years ever, I’m pretty optimistic about how this year is going to shape itself together for all of us. </p>
<p>Happy New Year to one and all, my friends! Let’s make this one to remember!<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/392445/ef65dedae3aeb3718c8fa800b317cbe9b535b03b/original/download.jpg/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsIm1lZGl1bSJdXQ==.jpg" class="size_m justify_center border_" /></p>Brent Allentag:brentallen.net,2005:Post/65059692020-12-23T13:01:58-06:002020-12-23T13:01:58-06:00Story Behind the Song - See You In My Dreams<p><span class="font_regular">“See You In My Dreams” was one of the first songs I wrote, and I got the idea after the death of my paternal grandfather, Gene. He was one of the coolest guys ever, and had a warmth to him that I only began to realize and understand after I grew older; I can still picture him in the back bedroom where he had his favorite couch, his TV and seemed to be reading the newspaper every time we walked in. My grandmother, LaFraye, was one of the most loving, caring and affectionate people ever, as most grandmothers tend to be. I still remember the feeling of her fingers brushing my hair back over my ears when I was little and sitting next to her whenever they would visit us. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">Gene’s death in 1997 was unexpected, and hit my family pretty hard, as it was also very sudden, since he was due to be discharged from the hospital in a few days. Instead, sadly and heartbreakingly enough, he ended up literally dying in my dad’s arms. They were close, and even though we don’t talk about him much, I know my dad still misses him a lot. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">The imagery of his memorial service was enough to stay with me and I can still recall, even today driving up to Mission Park on Military Drive in San Antonio, which was only a short drive from my grandparent’s house. I remember it being the first time that I had seen a small roadside florist stand on the way to the gravesite, and would serve as the inspiration for what is still one of the most personal songs I’ve ever written. I crafted it around the last verse with that imagery: </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">“I came to visit you today<br>And bought some flowers along the way <br>I told you how I missed you so, <br>And how I wish you didn’t go” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">I thought of her, especially now that he was gone, with the last two lines: </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">“And I’ll fall asleep in our old bed <br>And a tear will touch my face again” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">Over the years, she and I would grow closer, and she would often confide in me how much she missed him. Everyone in the family always knew that, for as long as she lived the rest of her years, she missed him every day until she sadly left our family on July 4th, 2013. Her passing was not as sudden and unexpected as Gene’s, but it still hurt. While I helped to write her obituary, that wasn’t nearly as hard as singing Garth Brooks’ “The Dance” at her service, for which I barely made it through without breaking down in tears. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">The following week, I was due to perform a gig at The Hangin Tree in Bracken, Texas which is one of the places I’ve played at for many years throughout my music career. I had considered cancelling, because I was still emotionally recovering from the loss. Nevertheless, I was convinced to play it in her memory. Throughout the night, I had my friends playing on stage behind me, most of my family in front of me and the show couldn’t have gone any better. My dear friends at the Tree have become my extended family over the years, all of them knowing how much my she meant to us all and showed my family the same love they’ve always given me over the years of playing there. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">For the final song of the night, I decided to dismiss the band and play the song for her as Kathy, the bartender, placed a Miller Lite and a cup of ice, (my grandmother’s favorite drink) on the empty table near the stage. When it came time to get to that last verse, with the imagery and memories still fresh in my mind I began to falter. My voice was breaking, tears were in my eyes and it was getting harder to finish the song. Then, my friends, family and everyone else in the audience began to cheer, clap and encourage me to get through it. It’s been over 7 years since we had that show, and I can still remember it all like it was yesterday. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">But you see even that, still, isn’t the end of the story that this song has meant to me and to others. After that night, I was unsure that I’d be able to perform it again without that or the memories reminding me of how hard it was, now that the last of both sets of grandparents were gone. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">Almost a full year later, 2 of my close friends from the Tree were getting married and of course I wasn’t going to miss it. Many other friends I knew from the bar were there, and it was a beautiful ceremony. The reception was just getting under way, and I enjoyed talking to many of them again, as we hadn’t seen each other much since the gig that night. We all sat down at our respective tables, and what happened next is another one of those moments I’ll remember forever. When it came time for James and Shelby to take their first dance as man and wife, I heard “See You In My Dreams'' come up and almost immediately began to weep at just how meaningful that was to me. I had never been the recipient of such a heartfelt gesture in that way before, and I was profoundly overtaken by the feeling. Overcome with emotion, I was already on my way to the dancefloor while James was making it a point to introduce me as the artist who sang the song after it had ended with the cheers and applause from the Hangin Tree crowd in attendance the same as it was only a year before. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">It was a well-planned surprise that I obviously wasn’t expecting, and changed my perspective of the song on that day, as it took on an entirely different meaning for me in those few short minutes while they were dancing. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">“See You In My Dreams” has a long history with me and my family, and for the whole year following the Hangin Tree gig, I didn’t think I’d be able to look at it again and not think of my grandparents. But that night at the reception, the song (while still written by me) had no longer belonged to me. It now belongs to them and they tell me they still dance to it often. I can think of no better way to honor my grandparents than to have that song live on forever, now, in the hearts of my friends. And mine.</span></p>Brent Allen