Skeleton Woman, reprised

I was going over my recordings and I found this one from 2016. It was recorded during a show called Blood and Bones that I performed with Natasha Clery, but we also had several friends share the stage with us that night in Ottawa at the Origin Studio.

I originally posted the Skeleton woman story back in 2010, but I lost the recording somewhere along the way. It is such a great story; definitely worth repeating.

I make a slight mistake in this story, but recovered quickly. But this probably why I haven't shared it before. However, Jason Sonier's haunting melodies make this story totally worth listening to.

Have a listen. I hope you enjoy it.

The Night of Magic

Bowie: I don't like the looks of this place.

Nimoy: Relax... Embrace the spirit of exploration!

Bowie: Are you about to tell me to go boldly?

Nimoy: Uh... no.

Bowie: Because that would be terribly cliché of you Leonard.

Nimoy: I am not one for cliches. I don't know why you're so nervous. In your life, did you not frequent dives dingier than these?

Bowie: Oh certainly, in my early days. But at the end there, I had become a little too accustomed to tweed and warm sweaters. I'm just out of practice. So tell me, why did you bring me here?

Nimoy: I have felt for some time that you were losing touch with your roots. That creative spark that drove you to explore brave, new worlds, to seek out new ideas in your art.

Bowie: Oh Leonard... ever the slave to your own memes.

Nimoy: Hush. I'm doing you a favour.

Bowie: It's so dark, dimly lit. I was starting to think there was no place to hide from the deafening light up here. It's refreshing, calming. Wait... is that... is that Marlboro I smell?

Cohen: Hello friends. May I join you?

Nimoy: Of course Leonard. David, this is...

Bowie: Mr. Cohen. It’s a honour to meet you sir.

Cohen: Please, call me Leonard. No need to stand on ceremony here.

Nimoy: Wait, wait… If you call him Leonard, how will I know if you’re talking to me?

Bowie: Trust me. In this moment, I won’t be talking to you at all.

Nimoy: Why is it I am being constantly upstaged by hams from Montreal?

Cohen: If there is one thing this old Jewish gentleman has not been called, it’s being a ham.

Bowie: (aghast) I apologize for my friend. Surely, he meant no disrespect--

Cohen: Relax friends. We are quite literally above and beyond such concerns. (raising a glass) Hallelujah to that, I say.

Nimoy/Bowie: (laughing, raising glasses) Hallelujah!

Bowie: So Leonard…

Cohen/Nimoy: Yes?

Bowie: Still not talking to you Nimoy.

Nimoy: (grumbling) Fine. I’m getting another drink. Fidel’s already got my favorite rum poured out at the bar. Oh wait… *sigh* If I have to listen to Ron’s space cowboy stories one more time… 

Bowie: What’s happening here tonight? What is this place?

Cohen: I’m surprised that a man of your considerable musical history doesn’t recognize a Karaoke bar when he sees one.

Bowie: Pardon me... this is a what?

Cohen: It was René’s idea. He tapped me quite literally the second I arrived. That man has an eye for musical talent, there’s no denying it.

Bowie: So we’re having a show tonight?

Cohen: Indeed. There’s a spot for you too, if you’re interested. I’ve always wanted to sing some Starman with you, and now it seems strangely appropriate.

Bowie: Of course, the honor would be mine. But what are we waiting for?

Cohen: Our host, the MC of the evening. And ah… there he is, making a grand, yet modest entrance, as always.

Thicke: Good evening everyone. It's time to get into the Thicke of things. (crowd groans) Hey! As it turns out, a little silliness beyond the finite end still helps when facing it.

Cohen: We’ve entered the Tower of Song, friends. Let’s make some magic.

Copyright © John David Hickey, December 2016To mark the passing of Leonard Cohen, Ron Glass, and Alan Thicke.

The Colour of Reign

Lemmy: David?

Bowie: No, you can't borrow one of mine. I don't know why you bother with those things now. You cannot get any higher than we are this very minute.

Lemmy: No, no... That's not what I'm talking about, but fuck you anyways. With a spoon.

Rickman: I heard that! Fer Christ's sake... am I doomed to hear that infernal joke for all eternity?

Lemmy: *chuckling* Seriously, it's just too easy.

Bowie: What's on your mind?

Lemmy: Have you noticed there's not much color up here? You've got a cream colored suit with an off-white shirt, but I had to fight tooth and nine-inch nail to get this badassed black vest, but now I look like Han Solo with a white confederate cowboy hat. It looks fucking stupid.

Bowie: Hey, I'm not crazy about these creamy pastels either, but what can we do? We're dead until the next incarnation. I hope I come back as a woman.

Lemmy: No matter what I come back as, I still won't date ya. Stop changing the subject!

Bowie: Speak your mind, man.

Lemmy: I spotted this guy the other day. New guy, fresh off the boat.

Bowie: Oh? I hadn't checked the roster. Who is it?

Rickman: Guys? Have you seen this? I have never seen it rain here, much less in color!

Lemmy: *ignoring* Not sure, but I can tell he's going to be trouble.

Bowie: Trouble? Up here? Lemmy, my friend, if the gates opened for the likes of you, how much trouble could this new guy be? Who is he?

Lemmy: You'll know him when you see him. For all your star power, this guy somehow snuck in with a reddish beret and a purple-sequined jacket. How did he get away with that?

Bowie: Oh.

Lemmy: Oh? Oh what?

Bowie: Oh. My. *sigh* Unlike life, this will be a party that is meant to last. A strong spirit does indeed transcend the rules.

Original piece written by JD Hickey to mark the passing of Prince.
April 2016 (first piece written in January 2016)

The Week of Death in 2016

Rickman: Hey David
Bowie: Alan? You too? What took you down?
Rickman: Cancer. You?
Bowie: Me too. Fuck Cancer.
Rickman: Fuck Cancer. With a spoon.
Lemmy: Fuck Cancer!
Rickman: Who's that guy?
Lemmy: I thought this was the rock star section. They let just anyone in here?
Bowie: Apparently. I'm been searching for Crosby, but I haven't had much luck.
Lemmy: David Crosby's dead too?!?
Bowie: No, no... Bing Crosby. Before your time. Before my time, really, if truth be told.
Rickman: I can play the cello...
Lemmy: No you can't. You're an actor. You can act like you play the cello. I saw Truly, Madly, Deeply wise-ass.
Rickman: ... Asshole.
Bowie: So what do we do now?
Lemmy: We could jam. Maybe actor-boy could learn how to play the spoons.
Angelil: Salut les boys.
Rickman: Who the fuck are you?
Angelil: Calisse... I'm Rene. If there's one thing I knew how to do in the old life is spot talent early on, and I mean *early* on. Stick with me les gars and we will rock this place.

Original piece written by JD Hickey, January 2016To mark the passing of Alan Rickman, Ian Fraser Kilmister (Lemmy), Rene Angelil, and David Bowie.

A Story of Loss and Comfort

Today is Halloween, which for most people is a time to dress up, visit or be visited by the neighbors, and share tricks and treats. An odd consequence to this holiday is that this is one of the few times when you actually meet your neighbors!

There is also another side to Halloween or Samhain as the modern Neo-Pagans refer to it: this is a day when you take a moment to remember loved ones that have passed on,  either in the past year or longer.

When I lost my Dad back in the summer of 2007, it was unbelievably difficult to deal with, but it's something that we all need to face at some point: the loss of a parent. His death kickstarted something I called the Year of the Firsts: the first Christmas without Dad, the first New Year without Dad, Dad's first birthday without him, my first birthday without Dad, etc. The good news is that as the year progresses, it gets easier to accept the idea that he has passed on. Of course, I still miss my Dad and there are  days when I tear up at his memory (like right now, for instance).

After my Year of the Firsts, I told this story at festival and it felt right. Whenever I hear of a friend who has lost someone, I've been wanting to share this story because it brought me a great deal of comfort with  my own sense of loss. I wanted to wait until I had a live version of this telling, but I had to settle for a studio recording instead. I'm hoping to have some music composed to add to it soon.

On this Halloween, I wish you pleasant memories of your lost loved ones and remind you that you do not grieve alone.

The Hunter's Son (4:45) told by JD Hickey

Grieving the Loss of a Beloved Pet

Whenever I have a friend who loses a beloved pet, I copy/past this story to them. When I lost my cat Dinger a few years ago, this story brought me much comfort.

The Rainbow Bridge
- Author Unknown

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.

There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.

The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together...