A Letter To Cathy

Dear Cathy,

Moien, mein numm ass Paul. But you already knew that!

Wéi geet et? I hope well.

Lastly, wou ass de supermarché? I need to know!

I couldn’t think of any other way to start this letter than by showing off the generic Luxembourgish phrases that you taught me.

I appreciate you teaching me the essentials. I know how to introduce myself. I know how to ask how someone is. And I know how to find out where the grocery store is located.

Drop me in the middle of Luxembourg and I’ll be a-ok!

Heck, drop me in the middle of Italy and I’ll fare just as well. I know my Italian essentials, such as different foods, and how to tell someone to close a door and open a window.

Smart, I am.

That’s how a character talk in Star Wars, isn’t it? Backwards? That’s pretty much all I know about the movie. I’m just wondering why the stars can’t get along? War, what is it good for, ya know?

Let’s stop here because I mustn’t go any further without complimenting you on the wonderful poetry you write!

My favourite is when you write a poem by hand, take a picture of it, and post it. It looks authentic and adds another layer of meaning.

I remember when I first followed your blog, you were a bit shy to share your poetry. Since then, I’ve noticed a change. You’re proud to share your words, and I’m proud of you for that. Don’t ever stop.

Alrighty, you asked me to tell you about the time I went on tour with that “super famous rock band” from Canada. I would’ve brushed this off and said, “You have no proof that actually happened!” But then you said you saw the picture of me filling in for the drummer and I realized you caught me.

Here’s the story.

The band was called, The Door Stoppers. They were from northern Quebec, but they weren’t a french band. Their songs were in english.

Well, one time, a few years ago, they were touring in my neck of the woods. I’m out at a restaurant with my friends and we’re sitting there waiting for our food. We were waiting at least half an hour.

So I started getting fidgety. I grabbed my fork and knife and started “playing the drums” with the glasses and small plates in front of me. I had quite the beat going. I thought the restaurant was going to turn off the overhead music and just let me play the rest of the night. Alas, that didn’t happen.

However, these three guys walked by the table.

One of them said, “Righteous, dude!”

Another said, “Oui oui, mon ami.”

The third one just stood there nodding. 

Anyways, they introduced themselves and said they were in a pickle.

I replied, “A pickle, eh? That’s better than us. We’re in despair.”

Get it? Because we had no food and they at least were in a pickle? Yeah? I thought it was funny, okay.

So they tell me that their drummer was drunk and was back at the hotel because their manager wasn’t going to let him go on stage looking so “MC Hammered”. Their words, not mine.

Little did I know, they were performing right next door and had come in the restaurant to use the bathrooms. Something about them being “cleaner” and “clear from the fans who wait for us at the urinal.”

They then asked if I’d like to join the band for the evening. I wouldn’t have to actually play the drums, I just had to look like I was. They would use a tape to pipe in the instruments while the singer sang live.

I said I would love to! Why not, right? 

But I told them I needed to eat first. So what did they do? And I kid you not…they went into the kitchen, grabbed my order, and brought it right out. Celebrities can do anything, especially if you’re a member of The Door Stoppers.

So I get to the show and there are about 2500 people in attendance. I get on stage and I’m sweating more than a rain cloud. They gave me a bandana to wear to “fit in”, but it was more like a wet dish cloth on my forehead that night.

Fortunately, I knew their songs and just had to follow the sound. The drums were way at the back of the stage and the microphones around them weren’t on, so no one would hear me not playing.

I got through their set and got a group photo with them backstage and everything. Then they invited me to join them for the rest of the tour, as their VIP Guest. Of course I said yes! It’s The Door Stoppers! You don’t say no to them.

I could go on and on, but those are the main details. 

Oh, I asked them why they were really called, “The Door Stoppers”. Rumours had been floating around that it was because when people hear their music, they stop at the door, turn around, and run away. 

I never believed that.

Here’s the inside scoop: They are called The Door Stoppers because at one of their first gigs at a bar, more people than they were expecting showed up. Some of them weren’t allowed in because of fire regulations. Those people remained outside and the bar manager opened the front door and put down a door stop, so everyone outside could still hear the band.

Before then, they were known as “4ORT” – pronounced, “Fort”. After that night, they called themselves The Door Stoppers.

Yeah, so that’s that!

To end this off, you also asked me if I thought my idea to write letters to other bloggers would be a successful endeavour, or if I thought the idea would fall flat.

Honestly, I didn’t really know at first. And idea is never “good” unless other people think it is, too.

I put up a post telling people I wanted to write them letters, asked for some information, and then waited for the responses in the comments. I knew I’d get at least 10 requests from the bloggers I was close with. 

I didn’t know I’d get close to 30. That number has since grown to 38 because people have been hopping on the bandwagon as I’ve been writing these. 

My final letter will be #39 and it will be to myself. You’re letter #31, if you’re curious. 

I feel guilty that 17 months have passed and I’m still not done them, but this was much harder than I thought. I’ll explain why in my final letter, if I ever get to it.

So I guess to answer your question – no, I didn’t think this idea would fall flat. I knew I wouldn’t let it. 

Well, that’s my time. I must be off. To where? Nowhere, really. It’s just time to sign off.

Cathy, thank you for being so supportive of me and my blog. It means more than you know. I look forward to reading more of your poems and learning more Luxembourgish. 

With a door stopper,

Paul

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About Paul

I think of my blog as an all-you-can-read buffet. There's something for everyone and complimentary mints at the door as you leave.
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8 Responses to A Letter To Cathy

  1. micqu says:

    Moien Paul. Däi Bréif huet mech immens gefreet. Hätt ech gewosst datt s du giffs lëtzebuergesch schreiwen hätt ech der méi Saachen bäibruecht.
    (Hi Paul. Your letter brought me lots of joy. If I had known that you’d write in Luxembourgish, I would have taught you more)

    Thank you for your kind words about my poetry. It is true that I am a bit shy about sharing, which has to do with not wanting to be a bother for others. The handwritten “posts” are something I enjoy doing a lot. It is true that it gives the poem more depth. Like giving it a face?

    Thanks for sharing the story of your musical career. You never know what happens at any given time – be at your best all the time. Where did that come from?

    My mind is tired. I am tired. I will never ever ever move again. Too much crap that we kept and will never need again.

    Paul, I appreciate you a lot. Thank you and merci. You are awesome.

    Cathy

    And now for some Luxembourgish:
    Ech sinn frouh matt dengem Blog an och matt dengen Gedanken.
    Wells du Gromperenkichelcher matt mir um Chreschtmaart iessen goen?

    Liked by 2 people

    • Paul says:

      Your poems are never a bother! You’re spot on, a picture of your poetry does give it a face.

      Ahhh I was planning to do a blog post about collecting things/keeping things for too long. Do you like your new place though? Just a matter of there being too much stuff to move in?

      I’m so glad you liked the letter! I’m sorry it took so long. Thanks for the new Luxembourgish words. They look very intriguing lol

      Like

      • micqu says:

        Ha… I failed to translate these sentences… The first one:
        I like your blog and your thoughts.
        The second one was a bit more fun:
        Do you want to eat “Gromperenkichelcher” with me at the Christmas market?

        Gromperenkichelcher is a Luxembourgish dish, made of grated potatoes which are mixed with eggs and flour to make some kind of dough that is deep fried. It is a savoury dish often eaten with apple sauce. “Gromperen” = potatoes, “Kichelcher” = cookies (They look like cookies)

        Liked by 1 person

      • Paul says:

        Haha yes I would! That sounds pretty good actually!

        Like

      • micqu says:

        This time, next year. We will eat Gromperenkichelcher. (Maybe 😉 I don’t often plan that far ahead.)
        As for the move, it was quite chaotic. I love the new house, but it lacks some serious space. I haven’t moved my books (12 boxes) nor my CDs (+/- 1800 albums) yet, because I don’t have a place for them yet. Thankfully our old place is my father in law’s, that’s a plus, we can take our time; at the same time, he can be quite a handful and that’s not as exciting. I am taking this opportunity seriously though. I throw away a lot of stuff and I am thankful that I am not in a hoarding mindset at present. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Paul says:

        That’s a lot of books and albums! But once you have that many, it’s probably hard to go through all of them and decide which ones you don’t want/need anymore. And aren’t all in-laws a handful? haha.
        As for plans to eat, I don’t plan that far ahead either lol

        Like

  2. Jad says:

    Another great post, I eagerly anticipate my letter, I believe I maybe number 36!!
    Did you really pretend to play with the doorstoppers up did you pretend that you pretended to play? Maybe it was not the doorstoppers after all maybe it was the pretenders?!

    Liked by 2 people

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