The Big Drink

I have learned from Citigal Magazine some simple truths about historical women. In Citigal's first issue I learned that our beloved Susan B. Anthony suffered from misery and agony associated with alcoholism, and was moved to fight for a right to vote in order to curb the rampant misuse of alcohol, in the home, destroying the families, tearing them apart from within. She herself was dealing with alcoholics or was dealing with people dealing with alcoholics. Big Drinkers.


I was surprised that her cause behind the cause was this matter, and still it is an overlooked and neglected cause today. I could write a million stories about the pains of alcohol that I have suffered, but won't, not right now. I have toyed with the idea of exposing acts of cruelty that I have witnessed by varying people, single men in Milwaukee's limelight maybe even, who have unjustly harmed me or some other woman or friend, but then I realized-but of course- that the root is always the same....they were not just mean dirty bastards, they were drunk...as if that would explain the problem, and it could be washed away by another Leinenheiffer martooni.


....and so I thought, instead of writing what it is like to date the hottest, over 40, single men in town, and my experience with at least 5-10 of those drunks, all whom I could refer to as 'Bitter Nuts', based on the experiences, if you catch my drift, or instead of sending in my recipe for Squashed Potatoes, I thought that I would just try to capture the essence of some of these local alcoholics, usually called 'musician', as a tribute to Suzie B. Whether a friend or foe, they always are a Bigger Drink than I, the Tall Cool One.


Alcohol is a selfless drug, it lashes out at others, and never keeps to just itself....and hardly ever shuts it's fat face up.


But FIRST: I want to simply adjust your attention to this. I like the words 'Big Drink', as in Big Drink Entertainment, a branch of my own entertainment business fun. I like the words 'Tall Cool One' as I was dubbed that because of my height by an art partner in Benicia Ca., and 'BibitMagnus' in latin, pretty much means again- Big Drink. I like these words because they describe ME, and well, I like to sing in Latin. Whether these are all surnames for me or my efforts, as in my label, my company or entities, in the future, when you say I need a tall cup of this or that, please think of me....The Highest Soprano in the State! (how do you like my new slogan?)


Now onward with the barrage. With whom shall I start? Being of a gentle heart, I shall begin with LOVE, and The Departed, without any barrage at all, but fond and painful memories, here I go. I start with dear Marty, because I just was squashed by his brother, ol Bitter Nuts today, he again drunk and quite vicious, when I stopped in for my monthly kick in the patootie. I always feel sorry for my ex's for having lost me, that I like to keep in touch, especially if we could potentially continue to do music business together. I am working on changing that attitude and being more selective in my abuse du jour. In this case I was actually going to get him signed to a record label, but now I think better of it....as I remember he gave my repetoire to another....once.


I shall begin with a memorial of a kind soul whose mind was so fragile that he died at a very young age, and without humor, I say that his e-ddress said it all. Fragileggshellmind. If you Google Martin Grinwald you may even find someone referring to him as a junkie, which to the best of my knowledge, may be inaccurate. He was a wild child and may have tried elaborate substances, but, I just want to clarify his good name on that. I, personally did not know him to be any kind of addict besides cigarettes, coffee, and... alcohol, which took him away at the young age of 39.


Many say that he was THE finest banjo player that EVER lived. I agree because, while his abusive Brother, with whom I lived insulted and cajoled me about my personal love- singing- Marty always came to me, as a cup of kindness, and played that thing like he was bringing in light. He saw the light, he saw the light, no more darkness, he saw the light....He was the sliver of it unto a dark barn. There were no spider webs hanging about, as you felt your way through the darkness of the unfamiliar, reaching for a string or bulb to turn. He was, for many, the drawbridge....he would lay himself down and you could walk across him. His style of picking was forthright, and told you exactly the direction he was headed-a hollow log is where he was staying and you could stay there too. You were welcome....if you had sugar. He should not been allowed to touch the stuff.


Because of his early consumption of alcohol, he had diabetes. If someone saw him 'shooting up', it was to 'correct' this disorder. I once saw him get drunk off of Mountain Dew. When the Town of Waukesha had arrested him for drinking soda, there began an latent symptom of an early demise. He was ruined early, for in those days, in the country, kids were given a cup of this or that to hasten their rest, as Beanz, his brother told me...ol smelly himself.

In some ways, I could not see how they were related, him and his brother Beanz, the one whom with I lived, IN MY HOUSE, I might add. One brother of two would fight music wars, but Banjo Marty did not. He accepted music as a gift, and was kind....but died many deaths on the highway to the final death that took his life. After many roadside instances where they pump all the old blood outta ya and fill you up with a new cup of blood, he remained alive, to everyone's surprise, after drinking himself to death, more than a few times.

Prior to his final death, his family and friends were writing his epitath. It should have read: Does the label 'genius' give one a right to drink like a fool? God Bless Him.

Marty would play his own style of Bluegrass better than enyone ever heard, but he is only a memory.