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Sunshine in the Shade

December 3, 2023 marks one year since I have been ordained as a deacon. Since that most important day of my life at the Philadelphia Episcopal Cathedral took place, my rookie year went very quickly and has been an interesting journey.

How I feel:

Blessed

Accomplished

Supported

Fluid. By this, I mean that I am never static. I am always learning, and always setting goals. The work never ends. It’s constant movement.

Just a handful of things I have learned in a year’s time:

There is a learning curve. From learning how to complete continuing education requirements, to learning everyone’s name in your new parish, to balancing work life, personal life and ministry life, there is a lot to learn. If you stumble, get up again. Keep calm and carry on!

Some ministry ideas will work, others will not. It may surprise you about what works and what doesn’t.

DAWN soap is very effective for getting things like Ash Wednesday ashes out of your vestments.

Preaching preparation gets easier with time. I never thought it would, but it does.

Speak louder. “Using your deacon voice” is a real thing, not a cliché or metaphor. Project when reading the Gospel and preaching.

Be extra, extra, and I mean EXTRA careful about what you say on social media. If you feel anger, annoyance, or anything negative towards someone, get offline and talk to God in a private conversation.

Diving deeper into your faith is essential. Meditate on God’s word and the message of Jesus. Pray a lot. It’s all about Him.

There are a lot of “Firsts”.  The first time I saw “The Reverend” before my name was surreal. I experienced my first Lent, Holy Week, Easter, Christmas, Diocesan convention, Holy Eucharist service alongside the Bishop, Chrism Mass, and Clergy Luncheon as a deacon. All these Firsts are very special, and I cherish these memories.

You will feel yourself growing closer with your new congregation as you get to know the different personalities and their passions. There also may be times when you miss your former parish, and that’s normal. Keep them in your heart, but remember you are here to serve the wider Church.

Keep an ear out for the needs in the community. Keep your antenna up (this is kind of a dated phrase) for information about what your parishioners love about ministry. Connect their love with the community’s needs.

You are a deacon 24/7. And beautiful things happen when this is recognized, and it happens even when you are not in your clerical shirt and collar, and when you are not even near a church.  People will gravitate to you- they will seek advice, or support, or will come to you with items to donate, and some will have a genuine curiosity about the diaconate and will want to know more. I call it “the Spirit at work.”

I am saying prayers of gratitude for my journey.  Thanking all of you, near and far.

Please pray for me as I move forward into my second year.

One afternoon in 2019, I heard a cat meowing from my neighbor’s yard. She was an adult black and white cat, round in the belly, laying in the grass. It’s not an unusual thing that stray or feral cats transgress through the yards of my street. I had never seen this cat before. I said in a hushed voice “Shoo, shoo…the neighbor doesn’t like cats!”  The cat went away, and I figured I’d never see her again.

I went on to feed the feral calico cat in my yard, a resident for quite a few years.

The next day, I went out into my yard, and the same black and white tuxedo cat I had seen the day before came seemingly out of nowhere. She started rubbing my legs and meowing loudly!  She was hungry. I fed her. I asked the neighbor across the street if she knew this cat, as she knew all the neighborhood cats and fed them as they came through. She did not know this cat. Thinking that she might be someone’s missing pet, I posted notices and photos on local social media. Nobody responded except for one person, who confirmed that this wasn’t her cat. The cat was friendly, she jumped in my lap and purred, and knew humans could feed her. She must have been around people at some point!

The cat jumped in my lap. I had an idea: scan the cat for a chip. I grabbed my carrier and put on gloves because I did not know what this cat had, or where she had been . I took her to the PetSmart store where I volunteer for the cat rescue. I borrowed their scanner, and nothing. No chip found.

I released the cat back into my yard. Maybe she’ll find her way home. She didn’t. She was still around.

It was October, and the days were getting colder. I felt guilty. This friendly cat deserved a home.

I already had 2 indoor cats in my house. They were older, into their teens. I didn’t know how many years, or even months, I still had with them. Maybe this cat was sent to me for a reason. I wasn’t actively looking for a cat. But she found me.

I took the cat in and isolated her in a bedroom until I could get a clinic visit booked. With a rounded belly, I was terrified that she was pregnant. I knew nothing about birthing kittens.

Finally, I got a clinic appointment. I had to put down a name. I put down “Francie” because I found her on October 4^th, the feast day of St. Francis.  They tested for feline leukemia and feline AIDS. Both came back negative- hooray! The proper vaccines were given, and a vet examined her. The exam went very well.

There was no pregnancy. Because SHE was a HE!

Turns out this cat was a neutered male who was a bit overweight. Someone already neutered him and let him go??  Why? His ears were not tipped- a tipped/clipped ear is a marking made by trappers who trap, neuter/spay and release feral cats to indicate that the cat is fixed.  Where he came from and why would remain a mystery.

He was renamed Frankie. I decided to keep him.  He became a part of my family.

He had a real penchant for eating. He’d actually open my cabinet doors and find his treats. He loved catnip toys. He loved to lay on my chest, and he got along with my other 2 cats. He purred and “made biscuits” with his big white toes.

Within 6 months of taking him in, both my older cats died of illness in a short time apart- one from heart failure, and one from a stroke. It was early 2020.

I adopted Abbey in April 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, the spunky, sweet young black and white female cat from the rescue – the same one at Petsmart. She adapted to my home almost instantly. She and Frankie were a good pair.

I called Frankie “my baby boy.” He slept on my bed every night. He was a big boy, and it was a challenge to get his weight down. He was more of a lie around cat than a run around cat. I never really knew his true age, but he was estimated to be around 6 to 8 years old.

It was all good- until late Spring of 2023. I noticed his coat was not shiny, he had hair loss, and he had been urinating a lot. My instincts told me to get him looked at. His bloodwork revealed diabetes.  He was started on insulin and took the shots like a trooper. He was an excellent patient and they all loved him at the vet clinic and called him “handsome boy.”  Within 2 months, his sugar was under control, and with a change in diet, I got him in remission. The victory celebration was short-lived though.

By June, I noticed another problem. He was drooling. I figured it was a dental issue and took him back to the vet clinic. The doctor said the teeth were fine, but she noticed a growth under the tongue. She said it was very concerning for cancer. I could tell by the way she said it, she was almost sure. She even said, “I’m sorry.” He was biopsied that day, and a week later the lab confirmed the worst. The doctor called me with the bad news, and we talked about making him comfortable. I hung up, looked at Frankie and fell apart.

Oral cancer is terribly aggressive in cats. It is rare that it is even treated because the prognosis is so poor, and even if it is treated, recurrence is very likely. It spreads to the mouth and jaw, leaving the cat in pain, drooling, bleeding and unable to eat. It is horrible. The life expectancy is only 2 to 3 months.

I spent the next weeks feeding him the best I could- trying liquid foods, using droppers and so forth. His eating diminished.  His weight dropped rapidly. I was constantly cleaning him and cleaning up after him because the drooling had gotten worse. I put towels on myself so he could continue to snuggle on me. I felt like a hospice nurse and it was emotionally draining.  One blessing came of this: he lost enough weight to comfortably jump into and fit in my front window- which he hadn’t gone in for a long time. At least he was able to enjoy something. I prayed a lot during this time- not for him to get better, because I knew that wouldn’t happen. I prayed for strength to get through this. My anxiety was eating at me. Every time I left the house, I feared I’d find him dead when I returned. I installed cameras to keep watch on my phone when I wasn’t home.

Finally, he changed to where I can see that his quality of life was getting worse. He was uncomfortable, and starving because he couldn’t eat despite my best efforts. He moved a lot less. His eyes and fur didn’t have the spark they once had. He wasn’t able to close his mouth, and the bleeding was more frequent. It was inhumane to keep him like this.

It was time to relieve him.

It was late August, and I decided to stay through the whole process. Dropping him off and leaving him- as if he was some kind of package- seemed wrong. I owed him dignity. Despite the offers, I chose not to have anyone come with me, as I wanted silence and alone time with him.  I spent my last hours with him in the “comfort room” of the clinic. The room had comfortable chairs, a tissue box, low lighting and the Rainbow Bridge poem on the wall.  The staff was extremely compassionate and explained everything.  He was given a sedative.  The doctor came in and injected the chemicals needed for him to leave this earth. He went peacefully and they gave me imprints of his paws to take home. I kissed his head and left.

Beforehand, the staff said I could leave quietly any time- no questions asked, if it became too much. I feared that I would. But I didn’t. Instead, I felt like I was giving pastoral care to him, and myself. I felt support and strength that I didn’t expect, and a feeling of peace. Though very sad, I felt closure and peace of mind knowing I was there- seeing and knowing exactly what was happening to him and for how long.

As a tribute, I donated his leftover insulin and syringes to the clinic.

I only had 3 and half years with him.  I felt cheated as I expected to have at least 10 years. It wasn’t fair. But he taught me a lot.  I learned that I was stronger than I thought. I learned that prayer helped me give me that strength. I learned to not take any moments with your pet for granted. I do not regret for one minute that I took him in. I know I made his last few years of life better than if I had left him out in the streets. He was sent to me for a reason- he needed to be saved, I needed him to get me through losing two cats. “Who rescued who?” as they say.

Frankie, you were such a good boy. You are missed.

The other night, I had a dream with spice in it. (No, not THAT kind of dream, get your mind out of the gutter!)

I rarely remember my dreams. So, to recall this one, with so much detail, is worth noting.

I had a dream that I sitting in the pews of a church, no church in particular, in the middle pews. I was there for an assignment, and it was to listen to the lessons, then get up and preach with NO preparation ahead of time. I think was in lay person’s clothes, not clerical wear.

All I remember is about the reading is that the reader mentioned spices. That’s when something clicked in my brain, I thought, “Okay, I’ll talk about spices.”

My mind started to race and I was thinking of things to say, like how we need spices and how use them, and that like spices, we- people- are all different and all have different purposes. Life be bland and boring without spices!  Can you imagine? People are like spices. All are needed. And make life interesting.

Then I thought “Maybe I should mention salt? Like, ‘It’s so hard to live on a salt free or low salt diet. Because it’s bland.’ ‘Should I mention the ‘pillar of salt’ story? Actually in real life, I did once preach on salt and “salt of the earth.”

I felt confident about the preaching I was about to do.

Then I woke up!

I was amused, and amazed because I usually don’t remember my dreams.

I was a little annoyed that it ended before I was due to preach.

I had to write it down before I forgot it.

I looked up readings for the day and the coming Sunday to see if spices were mentioned. They were not. I would have been a little freaked out if they did!

I had no idea why I dreamed this.

By the way spices and  spice are mentioned several times in the Bible. Especially on Old Testament but in the New Testament too.

It got me thinking about how people are like spices.

They can be:

Strong

Sweet

Some you’ll like, some you won’t like.

Rare

Unusual

Things change once they are added

A little amount from them can make a big difference

Too much can ruin a good thing.

Some are good for you

All are unique

They are good to keep around.

All have a purpose

Which spice are you? Imagine your church community as individual spices coming together to make something great and interesting.

Take away a spice, and it is not the same.

Now, I am going to scan the lectionary for any readings to mention spices, and I will volunteer to preach that day. I’m ready.

I was baptized into the Episcopal Church on Easter Sunday in 2006. How I arrived at that point is a long, involved story with many factors which I was explain another time. I will say that I was the last person I expected to join a church. If you told me at 15 or 16 that I’d later be a full blown, active church member, I would have laughed you out of the room.

Now I stand on the cusp of ordination as a deacon. I certainly never would have imagined that!

Not long after my baptism, the Episcopal Church elected its new Presiding Bishop. This is the highest position one can hold in the national Church. The term lasts 9 years, and the election takes place at the Church’s national convention.

The new Presiding Bishop’s name: Katherine Jefferts Schori. That’s right: a woman!

Her election made a splash on major news outlets. I still remember the crawl on CNN announcing that a major denomination has elected its first woman national leader. I was blissfully proud to be an Episcopalian and it reaffirmed that I made the right choice in becoming a member. It was being said that she broke the stained-glass ceiling. In November of 2006, she was formally installed at Washington National Cathedral with much fanfare. I have the DVD of the service and watch it for inspiration.

Oh, and before she was a priest and a bishop, she was a scientist– a marine biologist and oceanographer.

I then became more intrigued and wanted to know more about her, and her ability to make sense of the coexistence and harmony of science and religion. For too long, I thought of them as opposites.  But now I was gaining a new perspective.

It wasn’t long until she published a book. Issued in 2007, A Wing and a Prayer: A Message of Faith and Hope was her first book and contains essays and sermons on a variety of topics. I, of course bought it as soon as I could. Posed on the cover in front of her small plane, we are reminded that she is also a pilot. She uses flying expertise as metaphors for being closer to God and Christian growth- “taking flight”.

I began to follow her statements, sermons, appearances and took in all the information I could on her. She stood for inclusiveness, questioning, acceptance, and working together for the common good.

I was ecstatic when I learned she was coming to preside and preach at a church in my city. I would get to see her in person!

It was a beautiful day at Church of the Holy Trinity, a large parish in downtown Philadelphia. I remember the choir and congregation singing “Let Us Break Bread Together” as we lined up for communion. She was tall and wearing a vestment that looked like a painted sunrise. She looked right in my eyes and her gentle voice said, “The Body of Christ” as she handed me the Body.

I was blown away, shaken to the core, overcome with joy. She had a certain goodness a warm aura one could only feel in person and not through images.

After the service, I went up to her, and managed to get a “Hello” out before getting dumbstruck. I then managed to tell her I had recently been baptized, and she told me, “Welcome home.” I now say this to people who are received or baptized in church.  I had brought my copy of “A Wing and a Prayer” and asked her to sign it. She put down the presiding bishop’s staff she was holding, and said, “Hang on, let me get you a pen.”, she scurried to get one before I could tell her that I had a pen in my bag.  She took the time to grant my request. I was so flattered and honored.

At the time, becoming an ordained member in the church was nowhere near my thoughts or realm. That would come about 10 years later.

Since that first meeting, she wrote more books, and I met her at least 2 or 3 other times.  One was during the 40^th anniversary of women being ordained in the church. I am fortunate to live in Philadelphia, where the Episcopal Church was founded, and where the first 11 women priests of the Church became ordained in 1974. The event put the Church of the Advocate in North Philadelphia on the map as a historic site. Bishop Katharine led the service to honor the women who made her election possible. She gave a fiery sermon where she spoke of the importance of women’s shoes. After speaking of the condescending things men would say to female clergy, i.e. “Women priests shouldn’t wear heels.”, she slapped a pair of red shoes on the pulpit and said:

 “Women in all orders of ministry – baptized, deacons, priests, and bishops – can walk proudly today, in whatever kind of shoes they want to wear, because of what happened here 40 years ago.”

“We can walk proudly, even if not yet in full equality, knowing that the ranks of those who walk in solidarity are expanding,” she continued.

“Try to walk in the shoes of abused and trafficked women. Walk on to Zion carrying the children who are born and suffer in the midst of war,” the presiding bishop said. “Gather up the girls married before they are grown, gather up the schoolgirls still missing in Nigeria, and gather up all those lives wasted in war and prison. March boldly, proclaiming good news to all who have been pushed aside, and call them to the table of God, to Wisdom’s feast.”

It was a sermon I’d never forget, and still exists on YouTube.

Bishop Katharine has since finished her 9-year term as presiding bishop. I believe she is teaching at a seminary now. I would love to contact her and tell her about how my journey turned out, express my gratitude  and how she continues to be an inspiration.

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The Fixx were a driving force in my youth, and they still matter to me today. After nearly 40 years of being their fan, I thought it was about time I explained why.

By Stacey Carmody

On my little black and white TV in my bedroom, I watched a syndicated music video show every night. My neighborhood had not yet been wired for cable tv, so no MTV for me. It was 1983, and I remember a video playing for a song called Saved by Zero by a group called The Fixx. It was unlike anything I’ve seen or heard before. At 14 years old, I found it mesmerizing, even though at the time I had no idea what the song even meant. The video took you through a skylight into an artist’s studio, where the rest of the story, rich with symbolism, unfolded.  It was surreal. I later I learned the video’s style was inspired by Citizen Kane.  The images coupled with the repetitive, haunting yet dreamy song had me intrigued. The double X spelling alone was smart looking, it was imposed to differ from the word fix, often associated with drug use. Later that year, I heard this unique chop-chop-chop synth beat in a song called One Thing Leads to Another. It grabbed my ear immediately and I just loved the sound of it. The radio DJ said that was The Fixx, and I was blown away as I knew that was the same group who created Saved by Zero. The song shot up the charts and put The Fixx on the map. And why wouldn’t it? The sound stood out, it had a catchphrase, and you could even dance to it. With my saved money, I bought their LP Reach the Beach– the first record album I ever bought on my own. I played it, absorbed it, danced to it, learned all the lyrics printed on the back cover, and was just incredibly drawn to it like a moth to a flame. The more I played it, the more I loved it.  I don’t think I’d ever felt this strongly about anything before, words can’t even describe it. It was almost otherworldly. My next purchase was Shuttered Room, their debut album. Though it had a different and harder sound than Reach the Beach, I loved it too.

I don’t think I’d ever felt this strongly about anything before, words can’t even describe it. It was almost otherworldly.

The Fixx were part of the “second British invasion”, an era in the 1980’s when you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a British act: Duran Duran, Billy Idol, Thompson Twins, Pet Shop Boys and more permeated the airwaves, along with the characteristic synth keyboard New Wave sound. Howard Jones, The Cure and The Smiths all became part of my record collection. My fascination with anything English was born and would continue throughout my life. I entered high school, and the imported music would become my soundtrack for the whole duration, with The Fixx being the top favorite.

But why? Yes, those unique synth sounds. But…those lyrics. There are 2 anti-war songs, Red Skies and Stand or Fall– on their first album. Growing up during the Cold War era when a fear of a nuclear end was very real, these resonated with me in a big way. I had a keen awareness of current events and politics from a young age and so the songs spoke to me. There was another one on Reach the Beach called Liner– and I knew right away that it was a protest song about the Falkland Islands War -an English war being protested by an English band. I appreciated that the music served two of my interests: the New Wave sound and current events.

By the time their third album called Phantoms was released in 1984, I was all in: a passionate fan that had their faces on my wall; I had the buttons, the t-shirts and so forth. I ate up every interview and magazine article about them.  An obsession? Likely so, but I don’t like the word obsession. It conjures up visions of someone who is deranged and removed from reality. I wasn’t that. I was completely in the real world and had found something to be excited about and identify with. There was nothing dark or disturbing about it, in fact, I’d describe it as light that made my life fuller.  A staple of being an 80’s teen was to wear your favorite band’s merchandise proudly and obsessively; it was an expression of your personality.  In those days before uniforms in public schools, we could really go all out.  I didn’t fit into any of the usual cliques in high school: I wasn’t a popular kid, nor a jock, nor an egghead, nor a tough kid and not talented enough for the performing arts crowd.  I was different. I didn’t know where to place myself. So, I created my own identity as an artsy New Waver who dressed the part.  I loved it.

Adolescence comes with drama, hell- it is a damn minefield, especially if you are a teen who is different. It only made sense that I would gravitate towards a band that was different.

People around me, however, did not know what to make of my zeal for this particular group instead of favoring one that was “cooler” and more popular with the masses. To be fair, I never really explained the reasons for my passion. For some reason, I could not articulate it well. When I tried to explain, it just came out wrong, or not at all.  Even now, I cannot summarize it into a few sentences that sound understandable, hence this long elaborate piece I am writing now.   I tried to introduce my inner circle to The Fixx, but they just weren’t interested, or didn’t “get it.” They just didn’t dig the Fixx sound, and that’s ok. Everyone is entitled to their tastes. A friend nicknamed me “Fixxy” and that’s as far as her interest went. The nickname was also a way of her saying that I was starting to get on her nerves. My fandom kind of annoyed people.  I even got bullied for it a few times. I remember that one girl in my class who was into metal bands who would look at my Fixx buttons and then at me with disgust, saying “Eeeww, The Fixx- they suck!!” I blew her off and told her that I didn’t care what she thought. Then there was a day when someone broke into my locker and ripped the Fixx pictures I had taped up inside. That was their only goal, as nothing else was disturbed nor stolen. I was terribly hurt by this; my personal space was violated and someone who knew me felt they had the right to destroy something that was dear to me. I still shake my head and think, “Why??”

Adolescence comes with drama, hell- it is a damn minefield, especially if you are a teen who is different. It only made sense that I would gravitate towards a band that was different.  In doing so, I had further affirmation that it was okay to be different. They weren’t into the flashy, glitzy polished image; the big hair and makeup that was almost mandatory of the 1980’s. Rather, they were more about messages: the media dubbed them the “thinking man’s band.”

Singer/songwriter/lyricist Cy Curnin was educated by Jesuits- a Catholic order known for its emphasis on academics, philosophy, and progressive thinking. The influence can be heard in the songs. The product of an Irish Roman Catholic father and Jewish mother, he ended up not practicing either faith. It so happens that I have the same history.  He was later influenced by Buddhism, – again the influences are apparent in the songs. What other rock groups ask questions like Are We Ourselves? Or write songs about the Aboriginal ritual called Walkabout? They took on other topics like materialism and the environmental crisis, and crafted them into catchy, striking tracks. At least, I thought highly of the songs, but the mainstream wouldn’t take to them.

For a teenager developing my personality, finding my way, learning what about what I stood for and thinking about what I was going to do with my life, their music was an ideal backdrop and inspiration.  At such a crucial time for personal growth, it was also a source of solace and support- it got me through some difficult times: heartbreak, disappointment, and all the usual teen angst. Their songs are not all doom and gloom, many mention light and hope: Sunshine in the Shade is one, I Will another hopeful track, lyrics of which I’d use as a quote beneath my yearbook picture.  Their fourth album, Walkabout, was released in 1986 as I began to enter my senior year. It didn’t disappoint, as it gave me more food for thought.  It began with a song about reincarnation and ended with a dreamy composition about the natural high you feel when you are surrounded by nature and “the paints of the gods color codes.” The CD had a “bonus secret song” called Peace on Earth (Do What You Can), a call for us to take action, make peace and right all the wrongs. This song would become important to me 30 years later, as I discerned a call to serve my faith community as ordained clergy. Do What You Can became a mantra for me, I even included it in one of my sermons. The song ends with the lines as it fades out: It’s not what we are, it’s what we do, it’s by what we do that we shall be remembered.

 I was beginning to think about spirituality at this time- in my late teens, though I discussed it with no one. I wouldn’t dare admit it out loud. I was maintaining an exterior of snubbing my nose and an “I’m too cool and non-conformist for that!” attitude.  Being the stubborn teen that I was, I wouldn’t have listened if an adult sat me down and talked to me about such matters. Music was really the only way to reach me.

I wouldn’t get to see them until 1991, when they toured to support their Ink album. By then, 80’s New Wave was starting to take a backseat to grunge and other styles, and their fan base was growing up. Their teen idol phase was fading out, and it was probably for the best. There’s something disjointed about screaming girls tossing underwear onstage while they are singing about the deep issues of the world. Drummer Adam Woods once quipped in a tv interview, “We have a wardrobe trunk full of bras…but none of them fit.” That captures the silliness of it all right there!

Being the stubborn teen that I was, I wouldn’t have listened if an adult sat me down and talked to me about such matters. Music was really the only way to reach me.

They’d appear May 10, 1991, in a small nightclub in Philadelphia, the Chestnut Cabaret- now long gone. The club was directly across the street from Philadelphia Episcopal Cathedral- which, unbeknownst to me at the time, a place that would become very important in my life later. I was ecstatic to finally be in a room with them and like-minded people. The show was everything I’d imagined it would be, simply amazing. When it was over, part of the crowd moved outside to an area where they stood and waited. They seemed to know something that I didn’t. I waited too, and what transpired was a gathering by the tour bus- they came out to sign autographs and meet the fans. I immediately regretted not having a camera.

There were small posters around for us to take, I took one and they signed it and I still have it today. I was taken by how casual, and….well…normal it all was. By this, I mean that there was no entourage separating us and them, we were all there as if we were all friends getting together. I distinctly remember finding myself in front of guitarist Jamie West-Oram, and being in childlike awe, so much that I could barely get my words out. I knew from pictures that he was very tall and thin, with long hair past his shoulders, but of course, in person he was more striking. His demeanor seemed casual and relaxed.  I awkwardly got out a “Hello” and he said hello back, then unable to come up with anything clever, I said, “You look really cute in person.” (What a fangirl thing to say, jeez!) He deadpanned, “Thank you, you look cute in person too.” He signed my poster, and I shook his hand.  The whole encounter was probably only 10 seconds of my life, but it is a memory that would stay forever.

It would be 30 years until I saw them perform again.

Things happened in the next decades. Generation X was now out on their own, forging careers and doing things that are called “adulting” now. My body and my wardrobe underwent big changes. My concert t-shirts were replaced with “business casual” clothing as I became part of the workforce and started assuming various responsibilities. This New Waver was now grown up and looking more, well, dare I say, like a Yuppie.  My living quarters reflected the changes too.  Décor and framed art replaced my wall posters. Interests evolved, and while my musical tastes cycled through various phases, The Fixx never really fell off my radar completely. I bought their later albums, such as Elemental and 1011 Woodland. Their songs still hit a chord with me; Ocean Blue describes exactly how I feel about the ocean. As I went on, they were going through life changes too:  they had families to raise, solo projects to explore and there were wider spaces between albums and tours. They never formally broke up though, there was just a hiatus..or two.

Once in a while, when I’d go down memory lane with someone, they’d say, “I remember when you used to like The Fixx.” I’d usually nod and not bother to explain there was no “used to”. Just because I was no longer tacking their pictures to my walls and wearing pins didn’t mean I stopped being a fan.  “You were so into them.”, they’d say, as they dismissed it as a sort of teenage girl- rockstar idol- infatuation silly thing that faded out.  They couldn’t be more wrong. I was, and still am a fan- just in a more adult way, I suppose. I knew better than to idolize anyone. But they still didn’t get it, they did not understand just how deep and multifaceted my fandom was. And I still didn’t know any other fans.

Then along came the internet, and that changed everything.

I think it was in the end of the 1990’s when I joined the online message board community of Fixx fans. My posting name was R-We-R-Selves, a clever homage to their hit song from Phantoms. Fans from all over the world came to post messages, share memories and exchange merchandise. I was thrilled to engage in the conversation. “Why couldn’t this be a thing in the 80’s, when I was all alone?”, I thought! The Fixx resumed touring in the early 2000’s, and a select group of diehard fans were permitted into venues with their video cameras- usually banned otherwise, to film the shows. Remember, these were the days before smartphones. The result was a set of DVDs of concert footage entirely shot by fans, possibly a first of its kind. By today’s standards, it looks shaky and rough- remember the jerky camera work in the Blair Witch Project? It was that, but still had the charm of a home video, with the raw passion of the fans coming through.

By the end of the millennium’s first decade, message boards faded and gave way to social media giants Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. The band set up official accounts on all three, while fans created their own communities, well ahead of the long awaited 2012 album, Beautiful Friction.  I began following and posting.

The comments from people blew me away.

I felt validated. I knew I couldn’t be the only one. But it is one thing to believe you are not the only one, and another thing when you see it laid out in black and white.

I’d say the sentiment that I read over and over again is that they are underrated, overlooked and “should have been bigger.”

There were numerous comments from musicians describing how they were influenced by the Fixx’s sound and style.

Then there were deeper statements, a mention of how their music was part of their youth and how important it was to their teen years. Others would talk about how a certain song got them through rough periods:  through bouts with cancer, or depression, or the death of a loved one. Shaman from the Beautiful Friction album seems to be very inspirational to many, with the lines your soldier of light and your armor is love.

Comments about the earlier songs are frequent too:

 I thought that the song “Read Between the Lines” was written just for me, was speaking to me. And I did… I took heart realizing that someone else was feeling the same as me and was singing about it!!!! This song got me thru some hard times.”

Another quoted Treasure It: “Think positive, leave the negs behind. Move easily don’t stack what you find. Breathe deeply, always look ahead. Wide open there’s a space… I say, wide open there’s a space time won’t touch. When you’re feeling insecure do you treasure it? I treasure it…”

This was not mine, but I could have written it myself:

I loved The FIXX from the 1st time I heard them and shortly thereafter they became my ‘favorite’ band. A few years later, around ’85, I realized why their music struck such a special cord with me as I became aware of what my Human experience was a part of- a spiritual awakening, I suppose. Cy(Curnin) was singing about those feelings, observations, realizations, and manifestations. This was before the internet, so I had no idea if there were others that were connecting to their music the same way I was, but now I see there are many, many others and it is really awesome!

There were, and still are, hundreds of comments like this.

The Grateful Dead had Deadheads. Jimmy Buffett has Parrotheads. The Fixx have Fixxtures.

I felt validated. I knew I couldn’t be the only one. But it is one thing to believe you are not the only one, and another thing when you see it laid out in black and white.  How great a thing it was that those who “get it” could come together this way?! I am not sure if The Fixx themselves knew how many people they deeply touched until social media came along. But now they knew.

The Grateful Dead had Deadheads. Jimmy Buffett has Parrotheads. The Fixx have Fixxtures.

The official Fixx Facebook page boasts over 75,000 followers, and another page that is solely run by fans: “a group by and for Fixxtures”, has over 4,000 members. It was in this group that I learned of the most die-hard of the die-hards: fans that have dozens of collectable Fixx merchandise and autographs, who affectionately call the band “the boys”, who cross state lines to see numerous Fixx shows- some have chalked up the number into the double digits. A very active group, there are several posts every day. Friendships have been forged and many have met each other in person. I have “friended” several of the members, and since we all seem to be around the same age, we have various experiences in common besides our Fixx passion. A few of them shared their music files with me, while another sent me the hard-to-find Stage Two -one of the DVDs of Fixx footage shot by fans.

The mass media and commercial radio was not too kind to the Fixx. After the 1980’s, outlets lost interest in them. MTV, which once had them in heavy rotation, ceased to play videos altogether. Still, their fans never forgot them. Achieving somewhat of a cult-following status, they play to fans in clubs and theaters rather than large arenas. The intimacy of the small venues works well. Fans get to see them up close, and the band members are able to meet and greet them after the shows- both achievements would be impossible in a large complex with thousands of people.

The anecdotes from the fans that tell of meeting the band could fill a book. Here are some:

I got to meet Cy (Curnin) a couple months ago in person…. I turned into my 15-year-old self and burst into tears!! How embarrassing. He was nothing less than completely cool about it…he gave me a hug.

After the show having beers outside, Dan (K. Brown), Adam(Woods), and Rupert(Greenall) joined us at our table and chatted with us for 20-30 minutes. This is a band that values their fans.

Back in 1998 I saw them at a bar in San Antonio Texas. After the show I was standing at the bar and turned to my right to see Jamie (West-Oram) standing next to me. I said hello and he asked me if I’d like to come backstage and “meet the blokes”. It was awesome. Such great guys.

Class guys all around! They make the time to meet their fans! I have seen them over 30x and have chatted with them the last 20x or so. They aren’t just great musicians but are friends!

He (Cy Curnin) is so nice. He once did myself and my future wife a huge favor! She was turned away in Reno (Reach the Beach tour) because she was two months short of her 21st birthday. We were behind the venue and he walks up to us.., we told him what happened. He told us to go back around front and try again. Ten minutes later we were led in like VIPs. It was a killer show. At one point late in the show he said “I would like to dedicate this next song to “Robin.” Then they proceeded to play the song “Outside!”

Dan (K. Brown) is so humble. When I asked for a photo, he said “I’m just the bass player”. We were dining at a table right next to him and didn’t even know it until Adam (Woods) walked by and waved to the people at the table. My gf leaned over and asked “Was that the Fixx drummer?” and the guy says “Yes, and the bass player is sitting next to me. ” And then offered to introduce him to us. Dan was and IS soooo cool!

Additionally, there are photos all over the internet of the guys signing merchandise and posing with arms around their cherished Fixxtures- all smiling.

Nothing would stop them from meeting their fans…. except for a pandemic.

With the whole world on lockdown, they were kept away from their audience as well as each other. Efforts were made to keep the communication going: Cy Curnin created music and streamed a solo concert from his home, and a series of videos called Ask the Fixx was created where they individually answered questions submitted by fans. They disclosed interesting tidbits in this series. Dan K. Brown was reading up on Mozart. Jamie West-Oram said his new pandemic hobby was going out with his wife to pick up rubbish off the street, because it made them feel good. Honestly, given his dry sense of humor, I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. But it was true.

Yeah…I always knew this group with something special.

2021 was a year when we were all still reeling from the aftermath of a global pandemic while trying to regain our footing into some kind of “new normal” way of living. Social and entertaining activities resumed with some precautions in place. A tour commenced, at a perfect time when people were craving the fun that they have been deprived of, coupled with the longing by Generation X to hear their music again live and relive their childhood memories. The Fixx toured the US in the latter part of 2021. My first concert since the pandemic hit, I attended their show in Glenside, PA and was lucky to score second row seats. There was a celebratory feeling in the air- you can sense that people were happy to finally clap and cheer together: simple things we took for granted before COVID. Before the show, I looked around at the room. I came to the conclusion that we all look alike! 50somethings just have a certain look, and a great deal of us were using reading glasses (myself included). Some brought their children and it made me happy to see a new generation (or two) being exposed to Fixx music. The Fixx themselves who range in age from 64 to 73 seem to have aged like a fine wine- looking and sounding better than ever. When I watch their videos and concert footage from the 1980’s, they look so boyish to me now. It’s funny how age changes your perception. They played a set of their hits and other songs from their 10 studio albums, triggering memory after memory for me. It was almost like being reunited with old friends. It was exhilarating, they have said that they love playing live, and it comes through. They closed with the song Secret Separation, finishing with ad-libbed lyrics about making it through the darkness into the light. After the hell that was 2020, it certainly seemed that way. It was the most hopeful I felt after a year and a half. Shortly afterwards, I made it a point to get back to listening to music more often. I had developed a habit of streaming news instead of tunes and hadn’t even noticed the negative effect it was having on me. I did not like what I had become, and I changed my ways.

It was awesome to meet up with Fixxtures in person that I met on the Facebook group, also it was great fun to virtually follow the tour as fans posted photos and videos from each show around the country- an impossible feat years ago. With all the negativity that is said about social media, I prefer to celebrate how it can bring nice people and experiences together.

2022 brought an anticipated new album after a 10 year wait: Every Five Seconds, and new tour. The album has a track, Lonely As A Lighthouse, which has a deep history with the fans. Despite being performed live as long as 25 years ago but never officially recorded in the studio or anywhere else, its driving beat and nautical metaphors for love stuck with Fixxtures: they shared bootleg recordings and named an internet message board Lighthouse in homage to it and The Fixx. There was hope that it would someday appear on an album. In 2022, that hope was finally realized, issued as a way to thank the fans for their steadfast enthusiasm. The CD inner sleeve gives thanks to the fans as well.

The album is characteristic of The Fixx: it is filled with familar themes that speak to the troubling times, especially in Wake Up and Closer, other tracks speak to love (Woman of Flesh and Blood) and pain (Cold), but ends with a positive message of togetherness in Neverending: through thick and thin/we don’t give in/the life we weave/it’s neverending. The new tour has started, once again “the boys” are greeting their Fixxtures after shows (this practice was suspended in 2021 due to COVID precautions), new images of smiling faces are showing up online and all seems right with the world again. •

(Written July 4, 2022)

Post Script to the above : On August 26, 2022, I got to see the Fixx play at Keswick Theater, from the front row. It was amazing. They came out after show and I got to meet each one of them. This night was made of the stuff I would dream of when I was 15.

I got some great shots, like this one.

This is my friend Lisa and I with Jamie West-Oram. I went up to him, and he said, “Stacey!” Taken aback, I said, “Yeah! You know my name? Wow!” I was shocked and surprised that he knew my name. He said he recognized me from social media, as I’ve discussed the Fixx many times on Facebook and YouTube, but so do many other people. I was floored. This moment is right up there with the time Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori of the Episcopal Church took the time to put down her crosier to get a pen to sign my book. (I’ll elaborate more on that in a separate entry). His wife of 35plus years, Bibi, is an artist and posts her art on Instagram as do I. She has “liked” some of my work and that flatters me. She was present this night, but didn’t mingle with the fans. From a distance, I saw her and Jamie showing affection towards each other, a loving couple in a rock’n roll world.

Just a fun fact: we are all February babies: Jamie is Feb 19, Lisa is Feb 18, and I am Feb 11!

This is me, Lisa and Rupert Greenall