Random Questions of a Musical Nature

January 9, 2008

If I shot the sheriff, why wouldn’t I shoot the deputy?  Was the deputy even shot?  If I didn’t shoot the deputy, who did?  And why not shoot the deputy if I already shot the sheriff and I’m willing to admit it? 

What on earth was Phil Collins talking about on “In The Air Tonight”?  I mean, that song is so full of ……insinuation, you know?  There are just all kinds of evil things running through my mind every time I get into an elevator now.  It’s just creepy.  Come on, Phil!  Spill it.  It’s time to finally give up the answer to the riddle.  I mean, “I was there and I saw what you did, I saw it with my own two eyes”?  Sheesh!  What did you see?  Who did you see do it?  And why are you so pissed off about it?  I need the dirt, man!  Give!

What the hell was Bob Dylan talking about on (insert any Bob Dylan album/song/ditty/poem here)?  Especially Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.  Now don’t get me wrong, I was all about the Bob when I was younger.  He was Myth personified.  If you don’t count the Rolling Thunder Review, anyway.  I’m not really sure what the hell that was.  He was all so angst ridden and shit, you know?  And mysterious.  And Joan Baez was running after him like a starving dog after a meat wagon.  But what did it all mean???

Steve Miller…….the WHAT of love?  pompetous?  prophetess?  wtf?  I’ll have what ever he was smoking when he was recording that one! 

Did Clay Aiken sing the stalker’s anthem, or what?  “If I was invisible    Then I could just watch you in your room.”  How the fuck creepy is THAT??????   That boy always made the hair on the back of my neck stand up anyway, but this goes too far!

Michael Jackson, did you really think that we would believe Billie Jean if she told us she was your lover???  No freakin way, dude!  And the child is only yours if you were a sperm donor.  We don’t believe for one single second that you are having sex with women. 

And speaking of MJ:  Lisa Marie, Honey, just between you and me, what were you thinking?  I mean seriously, what was that all about?  Or Nicholas Cage for that matter? 

Last but certainly, certainly, certainly not least, who in the name of GOD said that it was alright for David Hasselhoff to get up in front of people and sing?  That person should be imprisoned for the remainder of their natural life, frozen and stored until a future date when we can reverse the effects of aging, brought back to life and imprisoned for the rest of their natural life AGAIN for letting that miscarriage of justice happen!  I get embarrassed for him every time I see him do it.  No wonder the man drinks!  I would too.  Why didn’t Kit tell him to stop?  If I was his car and I could talk I would have told him!  Hell if I was his dog, I would have bit him!  And I know he’s a big hit in Germany.  However, being of German descent, I can tell you that we Germans are naturally so mean that if we can’t be mean to some one else, we will be mean to ourselves and listening to David Hasselhoff is how we are accomplishing that feat.  Hell I’m so mean that when I shave my legs I have to hold a gun on myself to keep me from cutting my own throat.  I know what I’m talking about.

I’ve said this before but it still holds true:  Nice girls don’t blog after their meds kick in.  I’m leaving now. 

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Posted by thought4food

Reunions

September 28, 2007

Our oldest daughter came home yesterday.  It’s been three years since I’ve laid eyes on her.  My heart has seen her twenty-four/seven but my eyes have hungered for her non-stop.  Going long periods of time between physically seeing her is normal.  She is a natural born gypsy.  She comes by that honestly. 

I never seem to be prepared for just how overwhelmingly happy I am to see her.  I kept poking her on the arm.  She kept looking at me.  Finally, the last time I did it she said, “Believe I’m really here yet?”  There seems to be a Birdie shaped hole in my being when she isn’t with me that immediately fills up when she comes home. 

It’s like that with all my family and to a lesser degree with my friends.  I’m like a puzzle.  I’m this huge picture.  I know what it is, I know what it looks like.  But I’m only really complete and the whole big picture when everyone is together.  I almost had it this Labor Day. 

Labor Day marked the one year anniversary since the house burned down.  All in all things have progressed fairly splendidly since then.  We moved into what seems to us to be the perfect house in which to finish raising the kids, finish growing old, hobble around awhile, become a burden to said kids, make them change our diapers just like we did theirs, and eventually be remanded to an old folks home, there to linger and molder away, forgotten and neglected while the aforementioned kids are happily enjoying the life of Riley back at the old homestead.  So we decided it was time to conduct a good ol fashioned throw-down. 

The icing on the cake was that my mom (you remember her, I am now the proud owner of her hands) and my brothers and my sister(in law) and my niece(my GOD I love that kid) all came up from good ol FLA to attend! AND My Dearest Husband’s Grandma came from 250 miles away along with his mom.  Most of our closest friends were able to attend.  The few that weren’t were in our thoughts.  Our new neighbors were here.  We had just the best time ever!  The best count we could get was approximately 47 people.  Not bad. 

The kids all played and didn’t fuss and fight.  The grownups all played and didn’t fuss and fight.  Even I was nice! (I think) It lasted from around noon until way, way late.  Actually it lasted until way early the next day.  We had two chefs that cooked on the grill for us.  OMG  They ruled!  My Dearest Husband’s Aunt and Cousin brought some kick ass goodies.  We cooked.  I say “we” as if I actually helped any!  LOL  I didn’t!  Don’t let me fool you.  I was absolutely NO help of any kind at all.  My help consisted of staying out of the way and trying not to talk too much.  Because by the day of the party I had been off my meds for a fair amount of days ( another story for another time) and I was having major difficulties even saying words.  Mostly I just wandered around aimlessly.  But at least I wasn’t destructive.  That in itself was helpful.

The bros and the hubbie knocked out a couple horse shoe pits and everyone threw some shoes.  Down here in Carolina you ain’t had a party if you haven’t threw the shoes.  After everyone left, my little brother, Pony, got out my guitar and he and my older brother, Pork Chop, and I sat out on the front porch and sang all the old songs while the dogs lay around under our feet.  Pork Chop said it was like being in Mayberry. 

The puzzle was mostly put together that day.  Only a few missing pieces.  It was good to have everyone here.  It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to do that. 

Big party, lots of people, food, beer, family, friends, no bloodshed = success. 

*sigh* (insert big sappy grin) I love reunions.

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Used To

May 18, 2007

I used to sing.  I was pretty good at it.  My ex played guitar with several bands and we were together for 10 years before he ever heard me sing.  I never sang in front of people in those days, so I really did sing like nobody was listening because …..nobody was.  I think it’s fair to say he was pretty much stunned when he heard it the first time. 

It was on a tape player. (Can you say “LONG TIME AGO?????)  I had been messing around with a new song I had heard and I forgot to erase it.  He heard it by accident.  He asked who in the hell that was.  I said it was me.  He didn’t believe me for one second because as far as he knew I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.  Eventually he got me drunk enough to sing in front of him and prove it was me. 

Back in the day we always had music.  Everything was accompanied by music.  People coming over to hang out always brought guitars, amps, harmonicas and whatever other instruments they had and we jammed.  We went to other people’s houses and played.  It was alright.  And, back in the day, we had beer.  I’ll be kind to my momma and leave it at that.  So, we started gettin me all drunked up and I started to sing with them. 

They came to the conclusion that I sounded like a cross between Stevie Nicks and Bonnie Raitt.  With a slight quiver.  That was pure terror.  There was not enough alcohol invented to take that away.  But they gave me songs and booze and I sang.  Then one evening out in someone’s barn a sneaky varmint turned on a hidden tape recorder and taped me singing.  A few weeks later we were at another guys house hanging out and playing.  When I started to sing a song he jumped up and hollered, “You’re the girl on the tape!”  I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. 

You have to remember that: 1. I was drunk. 2. I didn’t know about the tape.

So he played it and sure enough it was me.  Have you ever heard yourself on tape?  I really can’t stand it.  I don’t mind hearing myself through my own ears inside of my head, but I hate hearing it from outside in.  I almost spit up.  But they all seemed to love it.  So they hatch this plot.  The guy who managed the local newspaper at the time was having a Christmas party at his house and had asked the guy who’s house we were at to get together a band and play at it. 

Now I’m really thinking I shouldn’t have had those last couple of beers.  They want me to sing.  In front of people.  A bunch of people.  Maybe I’ll rethink that beer thing and just have a few more.  Cuz those guys are really excited and happy and wanting this to happen.  And deep inside of my alcohol induced haze I’m kinda thinkin this might be kinda cool, too.  If I can keep from spitting up, that is. 

So we practice.  We practice a lot.  We practice and we practice and I sing and I sing.  I’m well on my way to becoming a raging alcoholic.  Because there is no way on God’s green earth that I can sing in front of anyone without it.  I’ve only been singing in front of my ex for about 3 or 4 months at this time.  But it feels good to have people telling me that I can do something well.  And everytime we practice more and more people show up to watch us.  It’s all really new and exciting. 

So, the fateful evening comes.  Let me set the stage for you. 

This was about 25 years ago.  I was young and hot as a two dollar pistol.  Long wavy chestnut brown hair, slender, an ass that looked like two puppies fighting under a blanket when I walked.  They get me there and we’re in the back room.  It’s almost time to go out.  The plan is to keep me in the back of the group until it’s time for me to sing.  That way I can get used to the atmosphere and I won’t be so nervous.  They brought me a bottle of gin.  All the quicker to schnocker you with, my dear.  And I knocked that baby back as fast as I could.

Then we went out to the stage.  It gets a little hazy around here.  There were many people, pretty lights, music, clinking, talking, and then they brought me to the front and set me on a stool and started playing my music.  I think I had my eyes closed because I was ok at first.  I just started to sing and I was having fun for the first few lines.  Then I noticed that it was very quiet in that place.  I opened my eyes.  Everyone was standing there with their drinks in their hands and they were all looking at me!  I immediately stopped singing.  I thought I had messed up really bad.  I turned around and looked at the guys in the band.  They said, “Keep singing, they love it!!”

I turned around and looked at all those faces again and they were nodding their heads yes!  Holy Crap!  The band started playing again and so I started singing again.  They sang with me and they clapped and sometimes they just stood there and listened to me.  It was probably the most incredible thing ever.  I sang every song we practiced.  Somewhere along the line I forget the rest of what happened.  It all just sort of melts into one big good ol time. 

We played alot of other places and I got to sing alot of other times.  It was always a big surprise to me.  And it always felt really great.  But that first time will always be my favorite.  I don’t do that anymore.  But, once upon a time, long long ago………

I used to sing.

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