Archive for the rock music Category

Post #141 – About James Thompson, author of Snow Angels, my ex-husband, who died last weekend

Posted in Family, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, rock music, true stories with tags , , , , , , , , on August 4, 2014 by tenaciousbitch

From our wedding album – James Thompson and his father James Thompson, Sr., on March 23, 1986.

Yesterday I received the sad news that my ex-husband, Jim Thompson, died in some sort of accident a couple of days ago. I don’t know all the details. I haven’t spoken to anyone in his family yet. He was the author of Snow Angels and five other novels.

Jim moved to Helsinki, Finland, in 1997 or ’98, and we’ve had no contact since a heated argument via email in 2003. However, he and our son, who is in college, have kept in touch, and Jim visited him here in the states last summer.

It was difficult to break the news to our son. And, naturally, he was rather shocked. I assume they will have some kind of memorial in Kentucky where Jim grew up, where many of his relatives still live.

Despite our differences, he was a very talented writer, and there will be a literary void without his future books.  But what many people don’t know is that he was also a very talented musician. He moved to Boston after our divorce and became the lead guitarist in a rock band, whose name I don’t recall.

Eight years later, he and his third wife, Many (pronounced money), moved back to Kentucky for a short time. They lived on some farmland Jim’s family owns, which was about an hour from my hometown of Huntington, West Virginia, where I was still living at the time.

I’ll never forget one particular incident when I went down to Kentucky to pick up our son when he was around 10. It was in the middle of the summer, and they didn’t have air conditioning. Though there were numerous fans whirring, it still seemed swampy inside their small but orderly house.  After I walked in, Jim stood by the front door smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke rings into the screen door behind him.

I glanced about the room at the modest but artsy furnishings and noticed a dead squirrel on the Formica-topped kitchen table. And it was all bloody! Jim burst into a fit of laughter seeing my look of revulsion at their recently murdered entree, so to speak.

He grew up hunting and fishing and the like, and my childhood was marked by ballet and gymnastics classes, playing tennis and lounging by the pool at a middle class country club. My parents weren’t wealthy, but we lived comfortably, and the country club cost less than a family membership to the YMCA these days.

“You’re welcome to help me skin that squirrel if you’d like,” he said, grinning. “I know how you love that sort of thing.”

Our son giggled, and I smiled.

His tiny wife rolled her eyes and gave him a smiling smirk. In her thick, Finnish accent, she said, “Pay no attention to him. He does not seem to understand that not everyone is accustomed to eating the critters from the yard.”

“He knows he’d have to be a lot harsher than that to offend me,” I replied amiably.  However, I thought her attempt to alleviate the awkwardness was very kind, but I honestly didn’t care that Jim was making fun of me. He and I always attempted to get along – especially when our son was around.

Aside from killing creatures of the forest and playing guitar, Jim was also an excellent photographer. He was working in the photography department at Ashland Oil when we met, but that was never his first love. I always thought music was his true mistress, but he found a new passion when he moved to Helsinki. And I’m glad for him that he found success writing novels.

He and Many divorced when our son was in high school, and Jim got married again 3-4 years later to a lovely lady named Annika, whom I’ve never met. But my son has shown me photos.

It’s my understanding that Jim developed some serious health problems, probably a decade ago. He had headaches so severe that he often couldn’t work or do much of anything. The doctors in Finland had run dozens of tests but never determined the exact cause from what I was told. At least now, though his life was truncated way too soon, his family and friends can take solace in the fact that he’s no longer in pain.

Many prayers to my son, Jim’s widow, and all of Jim’s family and friends.

Rest in peace, JT. Rest in peace and may there be lots of biscuits and sausage gravy, pie and pastry, White Castle hamburgers, Kim Chee, and dark beer wherever you’ve landed in the next life.  And I hope you and your friends, family and your fans will enjoy the photos below from our days of yore…:)




Jim and our son, Chris, in front of our apartment the day we brought him home from the hospital in Athens, Ohio, where we both attended Ohio University for a year.


Post #106 – Trippin’ with the tribe – AGAIN!

Posted in Family, friends, memoir, music, nonfiction, relationships, rock music, Travel, true stories, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on July 29, 2013 by tenaciousbitch

So, apparently, I shouldn’t get gas as I leave town. The last time I took off to see my husband’s band, Murnane Tribe, play at the Rock House in Indy, I drove off with the gas cap clanking loudly against the side of my Escalade (as mentioned in this post: THIS time, I pulled in too close to a white metal barrier next to the gas pumps, and I heard this metallic CRUNCH as I pulled away, only to find that I had scraped the side of my car on the white metal barrier, leaving a lovely set of skid marks on my SUV (sigh) – pictured below.

SIDE OF MY CARI hope we can buy some touch-up paint or something to cover up those streaks. If not, OOPS…and double oops…

Otherwise, all went well, and it was a great show. However, I had dinner with my cousin Juliana and her husband before the show, and she kept adding more Merlot to my glass when it was half empty. So, I lost track of time, and in a blink, it was 11:30. I hurriedly changed clothes and drove to the club, which was about 15 minutes away, and I missed the first 2 songs. But that’s okay, I saw the remainder of their set (i.e. the photos below). My husband’s the front man on the left playing bass and singing.

MIKE TONY 23JUST TONYUnfortunately, the batteries were dead in my camera, and some of my cell photos are blurry. Yes, I know, next time – CHECK one’s equipment before leaving… JUST SEAN 4  Sean, the drummer for Murnane Tribe.

I stayed for a little while after the Tribe quit playing to see the last band, Misunderstood, who were really good. They’re from Dayton, I think, and they were rather reminiscent of the Runaways. A couple photos of them below…

LEAD SINGER - MISUNDERSTOOD   Lead singer for Misunderstood.

MISUNDERSTOOD 2 Misunderstood at the Rock House Cafe – Indianapolis, July 27, 2013

Murnane Tribe, however, didn’t start playing until midnight, and by the time I got back to Juliana’s house on the South end of Indianapolis and got ready for bed, it was almost 3 AM when I crashed for the night. So…I’m a rather worn out today.

Then, in the morning, much to my surprise, Juliana’s cat, Mocha, decided I’m now her BFF (photo below).

MOCHA MY NEW BFFShe’s always either ignored me or hissed at me whenever I dared to walk near her.  However, this time, she climbed up on my lap, mewed demurely, then curled up and went to sleep. Of course, she did this just as I was about to get up and get dressed and head out the door.

I checked my email on my phone and let her sleep a few minutes, and when I started to sit up and displace her, she hissed at me again. So, I guess I can’t win. Finally, I just sat up and gingerly set her back down on the couch, which is when I snapped the photo above. She was glaring at me, so I don’t know if that just made it appear as though she’s cross-eyed, or she is actually cross-eyed. She’s never cozied up to me before to where I could actually SEE her eyes before this past weekend. I emailed Juliana for clarification, but I haven’t heard back from her yet.

Anywho…after getting stuck in construction traffic and behind a wreck on 70 East, I made it home around 6:30 last night.  Back to the not-so-glamorous life of a rock star’s wife with 14 pounds of dirty laundry waiting for me and a scratched up SUV (triple oops).

And as a follow-up to my previous posts about my trip back home to WV for high school reunion – mentioned in these posts:

Brenda (a friend from HEHS) emailed me this link about the pink elephant:

So, I guess that iconically weird statue remains a mystery…

Oh, and as a side note:  the Tribe got to do a promo for an Internet radio station in London, so stay tuned…I’ll post the link to the radio station whenever the promo is finished. Kind of exciting, yeah?

Over and out from CRAZYTOWN’S annex…

TenaciousBITCH and her band of truth-spouting hippies…

© Tenacious Bitch 2013