Shinybass Journal Entry 03/25/26

What St. Patrick’s Day Means to Me

 

 

 

(also posted on Substack)

 

I spent this St. Patrick’s Day (2026) shooting a music video. I had a small idea of what we would do for the video, but beyond a few notes, I had no idea of the look, the feel, the vibe. I just carted all the camera gear and some lights to the studio and started in.

I don’t recommend shooting videos like this. There should be some run-up (to be fair, we DID have a meeting where I spit-balled some shot ideas, so we had that, but not much else), and in the grand scheme of things, you should probably have a good plan in place ahead of time.

If nothing else, don’t test gear day of the shoot. Test it before you arrive. That goes for camera gear, music gear, whatever. You can certainly use the new gear in your project, just don’t ramp up on someone else’s time.

So the artist, ironically enough, is Irish, so we talked about St. Patrick’s Day in the US vs Ireland. Apparently we’ve bastardized this holiday as well, as in Ireland they basically just drink, which means it could be June 1 and mean the same for the Irish. She said “Yeah, we don’t dye the rivers and all that…” Figures.

(if you have been to Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day, drop me a comment and set me straight)

St. Patrick’s Day took on a new meaning for me on March 17, 2012. That was our wedding day. We had a wonderful and quick ceremony, then jetted to Isla Mujeres for a week of tequila and sun. For the wedding, I wore some funky St. Patrick’s Day socks, and she wore green glittered shoes. Neither of us have Irish blood, I don’t think. Irish whiskey, yes.

We picked that day because, quite frankly we had no choice. It was that week or November, as my touring schedule was nuts. We wanted Phil (Vassar) to be there as well as the rest of the band, so simply subbing out the weekend and getting married wouldn’t work. This was the only hole in the schedule, so there we were.

We always joked we’d never forget our anniversary, and we never did. We certainly had a hell of a time getting into certain restaurants over the years. As we continued our journey, it turns out most Spring Breaks land around the same time, so some years we found ourselves in other places on our anniversary. Our last getaway was to Eureka Springs; some place you should see once, but once is enough. That happened to be a short drive from Grandma’s, so that was the reasoning there.

Not sure how to tie this in to this story, but the night before our last anniversary together, on March 16, both our boys walked out with the soccer team at Geodis park ahead of the NSC/ Charlotte match-up. We had so many amazing moments from that night – Henry cried as it was always his dream to play, and he was able to walk on to what he considered hallowed ground. It was also the last time we had a full family picture together.

I don’t remember all 12 of our anniversary celebrations. I remember the last one we had together, which was in 2024. I found a nice restaurant in Nashville and we had a decent meal. The reviews were mixed – it wasn’t as jaw dropping as advertised on Yelp – and at least it was set with a view of the new construction that has made Nashville famous.

We did like the quiet moments of that dinner. At this point, she had her cancer diagnosis and started her treatments, so in the middle of medical worry, we had a small break. She was as beautiful as ever, and we held hands across the table, laughed at silly things and both agreed the dinner was just…OK. She held my arm to and from the car. I liked when she did that. She’d snuggle in close for a second, then let me lead.

We had to leave dinner early because she got really nauseous from her treatments. She apologized, but there was no need for that. I hustled us out of there as quickly as I could to get her home and in her ‘stretchy pants’ (as she called them). That woman loved her some pajamas and her dogs with her on the couch.

In 2025, my first anniversary without her, I was numb. I was still in shock from her dying, so the pin on the calendar loomed, but I was sort of scrambled as to what to do. Everyone said ‘Do something special’ for yourself. I got a pedicure last year, which in hindsight wasn’t that great. Maybe I needed a different salon (not looking on Yelp). I may have tried a nice dinner or something as well. I don’t remember. I did find myself at my old house in Inglewood. I walked to the steps and stood there for a moment, remembering when i carried her up the stairs on our wedding night. I rang the bell as not to be ‘creepy guy’, but no one answered. I’m just glad a) I wasn’t shot and b) the house was still there for me to see.

This year, as I scanned our wedding album to find a fun picture to post, I was hit hard. I was happy, sad, sad again. I am so glad she did all the things she did for that wedding. It was perfect. Her Mom worked overtime to make the wedding happen as well. Seeing the pictures of my nieces and nephew as small kids (who now have eyes on colleges) was pretty fun as well.

This year I am not in shock but smack dab in reality. That reality is the hard part, right? The moments you realize this is all different and this is permanent. You lose someone, and now certain days that used to be happy are now bittersweet with daggers and tears.

I am so happy I looked through those pictures. I am happy we had those pictures. I see a lot of people that had a great evening at our wedding. Funny story – we had a lot of wine there, but somehow we forgot to put out several cases that night. A wedding present to ourselves? Maybe.

I realize grief is a bit of a ‘niche’ market. I knew sadness, but I didn’t know grief until I lost my wife. I write to selfishly write for me, give permanent records to my kids, and to somehow help them sift through their grief as well. My words are also here to give perspective; hopefully someone reads one line and feels something.

So back to the ‘day’ for me. I shot a music video. I was creative. I left all my gear at the shoot and booked it to a sushi restaurant and ordered lunch for Henry and myself so I could eat with him at school. He tried sushi for the first time. He’s 11. I tried sushi for the first time at 25.

I figure the best thing I can do to honor the day we were married is to honor our commitment to always (try ) to move forward; to be better. She loved when I worked and was excited when I was excited about a project. And of course she loves her boys. So instead of moping in some restaurant ‘Widowed Dad, party of 1!’ I had a great day.

My little brother tattooed his wedding date on his ring finger. I had a holiday as a cheat sheet reminder of my anniversary. People, don’t forget your anniversary. And although now I cannot trust Yelp, I can trust that no matter where you are with your person, it is the most important place in the world. Hopefully you remember that in the moment, and for years to come.

Enjoy the day.