Postcard Pretty _ A proud Annual Mother’s Day Posting via OBRIENSEDGE.COM since 2010
Note: What follows is a re-introduction to our annual posting of "Postcard Pretty" which is in a sixth year running. This year it is accompanied with a most sincere remembrance to our dearest author and special Mom. Mom always took special care and attention for any and all our needs, as we grew up, without hesitation in regards to my Sister Carole and her family, to me as her only Son, who at from a youthful age of 18 years old, decided to pursue personal dreams and adventurous goals that guided that kid to California, some 2,500 miles away. A decision that in retrospect, transplanting Mom's Son, a distance too far away her and our family.
As to my Dad, Brian O'Brien and his Wife "Bernie", they would share a loyal, loving union with one another, for over 57 years as Mr. & Mrs. Brian and Bernadette O'Brien from Windsor, Ontario, Canada. Together, our Mom and Dad were our life's roll models of which parenting can be defined by. We will always remember our times shared as a family together as one or by each of us individually with Mom, as well as for Dad, as his childhood sweetheart and lifelong wife for the better part of six decades. This year, our Annual Mother's Day dedication posting, is humbly and especially published to honor Bernadette Marie Lise O'Brien from all of us, whom she endearingly referred to as "The Windsor Bunch" when signing each of her letters and emails addressed to her Southern California Son... The Story Behind "Postcard Pretty" is presented as: A Celebration of Life about Mom: Mom had sent to me by mail from Windsor, Canada her only written poem back in some time back in Sept 1995. She had accompanied in the letter. a little Sickem' Note, asking her Son to get this published for her. After all, since I lived near Hollywood and she figured her kid to be a big time rock star in California, that that would be easy. "You know Shane, with all your friends in the music business, you must know somebody to get this little publishing request done for me", As it turns out, Mom wanted to have something to talk about to all her lady friends at her weekly Cribbage Club League on Friday Nights.
As I realized what I was reading her poem and the note with it, this seemed to me, impossible to fulfill. How in the world could I possibly Publish this Mom written poem, or get it in a book of poems. I didn't know any body in that world and I was a struggling artist back then anyway, Remember that was back in '95 which at that time I had about a dozen Songs written and recorded in studios by rented times I paid for dearly at every turn. I never did understand the Big Time Rock Star thing, but I wasn't about to question Mom, no way. She has always been the greatest Mom to me imaginable. So I just kept silent. No comment on her poem, although she was dying to know what I thought of her writing. No comment on possibilities of getting her poem published either. I figured I was at least 2,500 miles away and in another Country to boot. Heck this shouldn't be hard to let die on the vine... Well, as it turned out I had three 2 day visits back in Canada in the following 15 years. I went back for Christmas' a couple of times. Then all of a sudden in 2010 (15 years after the act) there's a knock at my San Pedro, California door. I heard the knock as I was listening to the nights before's recorded tracks. Looking like I was working all night to, I'd imagine... So I shouted out loud "common in, the doors open". Wow, low and behold, call the paramedics quick, it's Mom and Dad... My folks came from Windsor to San Pedro to surprize me on my birthday, which I forgot it was, and boy was I surprised. Considering that there was not a stick of furniture in my place, since the day I moved into my place, it was all about creating a recording studio environment and a place to study during my apprenticeship with the Ironworkers and a place to crash and get ready for work at Ironworker jobsites. Family visits never occurred since I moved in in 1999. So I grabbed a couple folding chairs I had kicking around and offered to make them coffee. She expressed she only drank Decaf and asked if I had any camomile tea on hand. Yeah right, I thought to myself. Dad was cool, he was on a mission and doing a great job too. Mom asked him to bring her to her Son a she felt worried because she hadn't heard from me nearly enough and prompted her husband to escort her from Windsor and guide her to me, no matter where I was, on the planet. He was all smiles as she asked me question after question about my eating habits, my health, was I getting enough rest and why hadn't I called her for the last couple of months. She was very worried, so Dad acme up to the plate for his wife and resolved her worries by finding me and there they both were, right in my front room in So Cal. Holly Smokes I kept thinking. Well one thing led to another and sure as shit I had them listening to the nights recorded rough mixes, which led up to another shocker to me. Mom noticed her 15 year old poem (the original letter to me) attached inside the framed Gold Record on a wall in my place. Then politely expressed forgiveness to me regarding not getting it published even tho she told all her Friday Night Cribbage Lady friends that I would get it published, that was back in '95. "It's Okay Son, don't worry about it now". Yikes!!! And then, a brainstorm came over me. I sent my buddy out to get some tea and decaf coffee at Von's nearby, and asked Mom to be part of a session right now. I said "let's do the poem right now with your own voice Mom?". She said "it's alright Son, I'm over it, it's all good, that way 15 years ago, I'm here to see if your Okay."
The tea and Decaf was delivered shortly and as I had my buddy prepare the refreshments I decided to set up microphones and headphones in another room I used for a soundbooth. Made sure the video cameras had film i them and the audio recording machine had new tape too. I had asked Dad to stand century at the front door so to not allow any interruption for the following half hour. Next thing you know I had Mom adorning big headphones on for listen to herself recite her poem, which In had placed on her lap. Still inside the framed Gold record. And the tape began rolling on the video cameras and the audio devices. That session wasno longer than a half hour after which they went to get something good to eat before their flight at LAX departing in three hours. I declined the invitation to join them but I told them to stop by for a quick minute after the restaurant on their way to the airport. I mixed mom's voice and added a section I would do while they were eating out. She had no idea I modified the session with a part I added. I didn't tip my mit about that either. I had mixed a ready to listen to mix version of her session, which I transferred to a CD for them. The disc had a painted label on it with a photo of her doing her recorded parts. Ithad a liner jacket as well with all the regular credits found on any record label manufactured CD you can buy in any store. The presentation looked cool. Then they were off to LAX to fly to Detroit, to get a rented car to crossed the International Border to Windsor, Ontario, Canada. "You got anything to declare?" asked the Customs Officer. Dad said just this new CD from California! I wasn't done with Mom there. The Brainstorm remember!!! At this point in my life I had become educated in Artist Media Representation and all the publicity this understanding generates. So I published her recording on every music website I could find. That amounted to about a dozen good web sites, with a lot of listeners who like to listed to unsigned Artist every day. Nexts thing you know, considering the "Analytic programs attached to these chosen web sites, I could actually tally her song plays from every vantage point. That was so cool, since I could also get a print out from every web sites reporting the analytics. I could actually justify total song plays coming in from all over the globe.I had changed the title to her poem to a catchy phrase she had repeated in the piece. That was good to because it was a friendly title to look at and in itself generated extra plays. within a year Mom had papers in her hand report her song published in Europe, the USA, Canada, Argentina, The UK, Australia, France and Germany and even Iceland. After a year she had something to talk about on her Friday Night Ladies Night Cribbage Games, 20,000 play's and counting. You can add up all the site's analytic reports and get this cool ass publishing report. Today the count is over 100,000 plays, mostly generated on Mother's day repostings I've done every year since 2010. That day and the immediate days before or after Mothers day are huge play days for "Post Card Pretty_For Mom" ©2010 Bernadette O’Brien, Shane O’Brien