Archive for January, 2008

Michael Griffen 1936-2008

January 19, 2008

 

119-1914_crop.jpg  gathering thoughts:

Troy Date- including MP3s of Quisp, in which Michael played drums.

Eric Ostrowski’s myspace blog

Corey’s myspace blog

Jordan Rain’s myspace blog

Kreamy ‘Lectric Santa’s myspace blog

behead the prophet nlsl myspace blog by jordan

karlosthejackal

Six Organs of Admittance

To Live And Shave In LA blog entry by Robert and Priya

Dead Air Fresheners myspace blog

Tina’s myspace blog

The Stranger’s Music Blog

10 Things Zine

George Chen on MOG

The Corner Pocket message board

Inventories of Limbo

your heart breaks myspace blog

the touring vegan chef

stereogum: The Outsiders by Brandon

TRONIKS / CHONDRITIC SOUND

Eat the Oatmeal by Skye

Aerick Duckhugger

Bellingham Herald obituary by Aral 

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Some rambling about my daddy…

January 18, 2008

Hi everybody. I’m the long-lost older daughter, Shaun…There are so many different versions of each of us, aren’t there?  Right now I’m missing a very long ago Michael Griffen, because strangely the more recent version of him seems like he’s still right here… So, in a rambly manner: He was my daddy. He was very big in many ways – but not in others! He was actually quite skinny and I have always been able to reach all the way around him with my arms. He sang alot and often whooped.  In fact, he worked on his whoop off and on for many years. He said I could make it across slippery logs over streams, and he was right. Every time! With an impish grin, but while still trying to look serious and philosophical, he asked me alot of questions that did not have answers but appeared for a moment as though they did. He often said, “Work it out between yourselves,” “Wait ’til I finish my coffee,” and “Go look it up in the dictionary.”  He was one big idea after another. He was very good at rooster-crowing, banjo-playing, and grinning.  He didn’t want to talk about his parents. They didn’t want to talk about him either. He loved just about everybody, but sometimes he loved just me. Which was good. Both.  When I was a medium-sized girl, he had a way of holding me as he was tucking me in while sitting on the edge of my bed, letting me lay my torso in his arms so I could feel cradled, like a baby.  I was especially happy when he let me hold the match over the bowl of his pipe while he was lighting it. He made delicious pancakes. Oh, he loved peanut butter! And coffee! Oh. He melted several old aluminum coffee pots completely into electric burners because he would go off and paint and forget them on the stove.  We wondered about a lot of things together, and I am a very good wonderer now.

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