Hi Rickie. Enjoyed listening to Podcasts. Thank you. Really interesting and I love Be My Baby & Company.
I got "scammed" today by a Rickie Lee Imposter on Substack! First they Followed me on Substack. Then they sent a Direct Message and asked me if we could Text somewhere else for Security reasons. I probably shouldn't have answered them but I asked "Where?". They suggested Telegram. Unreal. Years ago, when Twitter was new, we had a brief exchange about a Yard Sale you were having. I was thrilled and told everyone about it. But the Internet has changed a lot since then. Hope to see you perform live again sometime. All the best. Sincerely, Mary K.
Thank you for this beautiful memory and writing. I'm teary now! The photo of your mother is wonderful ( not sure how to describe it, but it takes me to that time and place...). The final lines about the watch make me think of "hold onto your special friend, here, you'll need something to keep her in" - hope I got the lyrics right. I think of that line often and it helps me deal with all the nutty adult mind games people play. Now I will be inspired to share some special memories of my childhood.
Rickie Lee....një kujtim tjetër i ngjashëm për mua. Nëna ime punonte në turnin e drekës 6 ditë në javë në një tavernë lokale. Ajo bëri dhe shërbeu sanduiçët dhe burgerët. Të gjithë e njihnin “Gert”, apo “Gertie”. Ajo vinte në shtëpi çdo ditë, ngrohte kafenë e mbetur nga mëngjesi në një tenxhere, hiqte uniformën, pinte cigare në tavolinën e kuzhinës dhe numëronte bakshishe. Ne do të ndihmonim në vendosjen e lagjeve në grumbuj. Ajo do të ishte në shtëpi në orën 3:00, dhe pas këtij rituali, erdhi rituali i darkës. Ajo do të ishte nokautuar tashmë nga puna e saj. I lodhur, dhe këmbët me dhimbje. Por babai im kthehej në shtëpi nga ora 4:30-5:00 çdo ditë dhe priste që darka të ishte në tavolinë, siç ishte. Unë dhe vëllai im menduam se të gjitha familjet vepronin në këtë mënyrë. Por në vitet '60, shumica e grave qëndronin në shtëpi. Ne ishim fëmijë kyç me shul. Rickie.....Dëgjoj një këngë këtu diku.
always had dinner at my grandma's. she never ate or even sat down. instead, fretted and worried that something might not be good enough. everything always was. the women in our lives made those lives better every day.
So true! While others took holidays for granted, those of us had to find the joy when and where we could appreciated them more. And a book about the children of waitresses would be amazing. Better yet, a song would be sublime. Enjoy the rest of the holiday season.
After Thanksgiving was all put away last night, I lit some scented candles and turned the low lights on in the living room and stretched, pilatied, yogaed, danced and sang to my Rickie Lee Jones playlist. Divine.
I love your story all the more because when I was a child (1960s), my mother was also a waitress. She waited tables at a restaurant next door to the Plugged Nickel jazz club in Old Town, Chicago. She got to be friends with the jazz Hammond organ player, Jimmy Smith. I remember going to see him play with my mom and sister in these smokey jazz clubs. It was all such an adult world for me. Mom said Jimmy used to pick me up and sway me around (I must’ve been around 4 or 5). I think those early memories are what influenced me to become a musician .
Happy Thanksgiving Rickie. Your beautiful writing makes me miss and appreciate my mother even more. Vivid wisps of childhood memories. Please write another book.
Some of my special memories are of listening to your albums when I was living in Santa Barbara in the early 1980's. You taught me to listen in new ways and feel more deeply. I'm so glad your still with us and sharing your thoughts and memories on Substack. Happy Thanksgiving to you and to everyone in this community.
What a wonderful, sensory-filled memory! Thank you for sharing this. There are so many ways to look at things - whether we see things in a positive light, or let darkness creep in. This is a wonderful, full picture of the experience - keeping the light on.
yes indeed, and writing is the obvious way to make something constructive out of those dark shadows. so they dont just linger in there and we dont know what to do with them. thank you for your very sensory filled note! just that word filled my body with awareness,
What a lovely story. For some reason Ray Bradbury's "Dandelion Wine" came to my mind.
Lovely…🎈
Hi Rickie. Enjoyed listening to Podcasts. Thank you. Really interesting and I love Be My Baby & Company.
I got "scammed" today by a Rickie Lee Imposter on Substack! First they Followed me on Substack. Then they sent a Direct Message and asked me if we could Text somewhere else for Security reasons. I probably shouldn't have answered them but I asked "Where?". They suggested Telegram. Unreal. Years ago, when Twitter was new, we had a brief exchange about a Yard Sale you were having. I was thrilled and told everyone about it. But the Internet has changed a lot since then. Hope to see you perform live again sometime. All the best. Sincerely, Mary K.
Thank you for this beautiful memory and writing. I'm teary now! The photo of your mother is wonderful ( not sure how to describe it, but it takes me to that time and place...). The final lines about the watch make me think of "hold onto your special friend, here, you'll need something to keep her in" - hope I got the lyrics right. I think of that line often and it helps me deal with all the nutty adult mind games people play. Now I will be inspired to share some special memories of my childhood.
Rickie Lee....një kujtim tjetër i ngjashëm për mua. Nëna ime punonte në turnin e drekës 6 ditë në javë në një tavernë lokale. Ajo bëri dhe shërbeu sanduiçët dhe burgerët. Të gjithë e njihnin “Gert”, apo “Gertie”. Ajo vinte në shtëpi çdo ditë, ngrohte kafenë e mbetur nga mëngjesi në një tenxhere, hiqte uniformën, pinte cigare në tavolinën e kuzhinës dhe numëronte bakshishe. Ne do të ndihmonim në vendosjen e lagjeve në grumbuj. Ajo do të ishte në shtëpi në orën 3:00, dhe pas këtij rituali, erdhi rituali i darkës. Ajo do të ishte nokautuar tashmë nga puna e saj. I lodhur, dhe këmbët me dhimbje. Por babai im kthehej në shtëpi nga ora 4:30-5:00 çdo ditë dhe priste që darka të ishte në tavolinë, siç ishte. Unë dhe vëllai im menduam se të gjitha familjet vepronin në këtë mënyrë. Por në vitet '60, shumica e grave qëndronin në shtëpi. Ne ishim fëmijë kyç me shul. Rickie.....Dëgjoj një këngë këtu diku.
Shumë dashuri
Bonnie
I don't know what my fingers hit to change the language. ???? I hope you can change it back to English.
I’ll see you in Santa Fe.
always had dinner at my grandma's. she never ate or even sat down. instead, fretted and worried that something might not be good enough. everything always was. the women in our lives made those lives better every day.
Thank you. 🧡
Wow. So filling.
Thank you for you.
Have loved your rhythms and songs.
“chicken in the pot…chicken in the pot.”
Still love your voice.
So filling.
So true! While others took holidays for granted, those of us had to find the joy when and where we could appreciated them more. And a book about the children of waitresses would be amazing. Better yet, a song would be sublime. Enjoy the rest of the holiday season.
Sweet story
After Thanksgiving was all put away last night, I lit some scented candles and turned the low lights on in the living room and stretched, pilatied, yogaed, danced and sang to my Rickie Lee Jones playlist. Divine.
I love your story all the more because when I was a child (1960s), my mother was also a waitress. She waited tables at a restaurant next door to the Plugged Nickel jazz club in Old Town, Chicago. She got to be friends with the jazz Hammond organ player, Jimmy Smith. I remember going to see him play with my mom and sister in these smokey jazz clubs. It was all such an adult world for me. Mom said Jimmy used to pick me up and sway me around (I must’ve been around 4 or 5). I think those early memories are what influenced me to become a musician .
Happy Thanksgiving Rickie. Your beautiful writing makes me miss and appreciate my mother even more. Vivid wisps of childhood memories. Please write another book.
oh yes, I wish I would write that book. thank you ...
Some of my special memories are of listening to your albums when I was living in Santa Barbara in the early 1980's. You taught me to listen in new ways and feel more deeply. I'm so glad your still with us and sharing your thoughts and memories on Substack. Happy Thanksgiving to you and to everyone in this community.
Charlie, thank you.
What a wonderful, sensory-filled memory! Thank you for sharing this. There are so many ways to look at things - whether we see things in a positive light, or let darkness creep in. This is a wonderful, full picture of the experience - keeping the light on.
yes indeed, and writing is the obvious way to make something constructive out of those dark shadows. so they dont just linger in there and we dont know what to do with them. thank you for your very sensory filled note! just that word filled my body with awareness,
odd that.