Bad Penny and Jax/Courtesy Chris Fertita-Miklasz |
In the end, there is no way you can accurately predict when someone who
allegedly lives life to the edge or pushes the envelope, etc., will die, and
when someone who is so well known and is actually irreplaceable to a certain
community dies, no, we didn’t really expect it and no, we are definite not
ready for it.
Thelma Lee Ballard, known to many more people as Bad Penny, was found
last weekend in the West Side home where she was house sitting. While she lived
hard and turned some people off with her boisterous honesty, she appreciated
what life had to offer, grabbed it with two hands and whatever else she could
use, and didn’t waste a moment on this realm.
She was best known for her living in and breathing life into Buffalo’s
original music community, love of conspicuous consumption (food, alcohol,
dancing, etc.) and for being herself, even when she herself was known by two
names. You never had to wonder where you stood with Penny (usually a bit back
when you first met her). Strong willed, strong opinions, strong action; people
often recall a slug to the chest, arm, shoulder or balls a part of their
initiation to Penny, but she was truly a caring person. Caring wasn’t a passive
emotion with Penny.
I
remember her basic whirling Dervish/Tasmanian Devil self, as many people first
did, through the community of musicians, DJs, promoters, writers, fans and
other ne’er-do-wells from clubs such as the Continental, Nietzsche’s, Club
Utica, Essex Street Pub, Mohawk Place and a few others. She was at the major
shows, tons of the shows we’ve all forgotten and just as many house, yard and
street concerts, loudly showing her approval and appreciation to the bands. It
is hard to recall a Jack Lords or Steam Donkeys show at which Penny was not
present. I was officially introduced to Penny in the early 1990s at a birthday
party on Connecticut Street with her apartment mate, the late artist Jack
Drummer. My lovely wife Val and I drove by that apartment/studio earlier today,
at Connecticut and Plymouth, and it still looks incredibly like we remember it
from almost 25 years ago.
But a couple of memories of what
some people might consider a softer Penny, which was really just another
part/side of the actual Bad Penny/Thelma Lee Ballad life force. One morning,
about 15 years ago, at one of her Allentown apartments, she hosted a crepe
breakfast during what might have been one of the days of the Allentown Arts
Festival. A large crowd spilled from her apartment to the balcony, the driveway
and lawn below, having a great, rather mellow time and eating what were some
amazing crepes. Penny was often
happiest when she as busy and able to channel her energy, and she got the
biggest kick that day when she was repeatedly told how good the food was. I
realize she had help that day, but the brain cells have taken a bit of a
beating over the years, even with the lack of intoxicants for years.
Penny also had a couple of interests that kept her calm, busy and happy,
animals/pets and flowers/gardens.
While she was a cat lover and shared space and feelings with them, she
also liked dogs, and she was always asking about Harold and our previous dog,
the late Walker. She also did gardening as a job and worked on some nearby
gardens, including one at the end of our block at Norwood and Bryant. She was
obviously enjoying herself, but took the garden quite seriously and
concentrated as if she realized that every act to beautify by working with
Nature was important and creative, which of course they were. She would ask for
my opinion on her work as I walked Harold or Walker by, but you could see she
was continually processing the work and results and figuring out her next move,
Not that everything was peaches and cream; you noted I referred to
drinking and other use and abuse, and they did crop up, as even her best
friends readily acknowledge. I won’t repeat in depth the story I’ve written
about before on how Val, Penny, Mikel Doktor, Marty Boratin and I drove from
Buffalo to Austin to attend the South by Southwest 2001 conference. She was a
true road warrior and drove her segment without mishap, but after basically
being told by one of us that if she didn’t shut up after hours of drunken
yelling in our shared room at the Austin Motel the first night, because some
people did not want her to accompany them in the state she was in, that they
would, well, enforce that sentiment. She took her stuff and stayed with friends
after the first night, but she joined us for the drive home and again did her
share, as if the first night’s incident had never occurred,
Interesting but not too surprising, for every story we in the Buffalo
music/Penny community could tell, there was at least one that members of the
Austin communities could tell, as we found out that conference, as well as
stories from when she lived in Los Angeles, which we also heard there.
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