Musings from an American independent-thinking woman about current events, life, travel, self-discovery, and my adventures in trying to learn new things. A few rants and diatribes along the way, but hopefully I'm always asking questions.
I try to mix in a healthy dose of local events as well, as I believe that what happens in our neighbourhoods now is ultimately mirrored on the world scale later. We don't live in a vacuum...our ideas shouldn't, either.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Supping On the Lawn: "The Duchess"
Just a quick note here, as I'm off to a long day of work and errands...
I'm going over to see "The Duchess" tonight over at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh. The show starts at 8pm, and it's a very good outdoor venue (that sells decent wine, too!), so I'm hoping for no rain today or tonight. Admission is only $3.
While generally I am not known for liking 'chick-flicks', I do have a fondness for films of some historical merit...although Lord knows some take 'history' and stretch it to unrecognizable limits. "The Duchess" stars Kiera Knightley, who portrays the headstrong Georgiana Spencer Cavendish, the Duchess of Devonshire, in 18th century England. Headstrong may not even begin to come close to an accurate description of Georgie: The Duchess was known to be quite outspoken at a time when women (even rich, politically powerful and titled ones) were not expected/tolerated to be; known to be quite a rebel (of sorts) within English nobility for her popularity with the common people and her leading fashion sense; known to be a quite the (unsuccessful) gambler; and then there was that whole known love affair not with her husband, the stuffy and boring Duke...but instead with the future Whig Prime Minister Earl Grey (yes, the real-life man attached to the popular kind of tea). The affair with Grey eventually produced a female child, which Georgiana was forced to give up to Grey's family to raise.
If parts of the above (save the out-of-wedlock child) all sound a bit all-too-familiar with another deeply loved member of English nobility, the late Princess Diana of Wales, you're visiting the same neighbourhood: the late Princess was a direct descendant of the Duchess. Sarah Ferguson, the recent former Duchess of York and Diana's good friend for a number of years, is also a descendant of Georgiana's (by way of the illegitimate daughter she had with Grey). (Talk about history repeating itself...drama seems to be a part of the family tree.) If you're really into the history of all things Duchess Georgie, try reading this witty, well-researched, and informative blog about all the characters (and many side acquaintances) of Georgiana's world: The Duchess of Devonshire's Gossip Guide to the 18th Century.
I'm hoping that at least some of "The Duchess" stays true to the facts, as it's a fascinating tale to read about in history books, let alone see on film. (With the exception of Lizzy Bennett from Jane Austen's "Pride & Prejudice"...and Lizzy is a fiction...the Duchess of Devonshire represents my favourite thoroughly modern woman in a not-so-modern world of proper society.) Since this is a British production, and since the dear Brits take their film making deadly serious, I'm confident Knightley won't be slaying her rivals with a gamma ray gun or doing inhuman-like acrobatics on the backside of a horse en route to meet her lover.
I was sorry I missed this movie when it first came out last year, but am glad I'm able to see it again on a large screen...albeit a large, outdoor one. A glass of wine, a small picnic basket of goodies, on the nice lawn at the NC M of A: it seems an excellent choice to take in the public and private affairs of a star-crossed English aristocrat. Hell, I might even bring along some Earl Grey tea and biscuits and do it all proper-like.
This is a short post and video clip from this past Independence Day celebration, being published here for the first time. Slowly I'll bring these out, and maybe...someday...I'll get caught up.
Happy Fourth of July today, people!!
It's been a really great day and night tonight, remarkably pleasant after being so hot and humid these last few weeks. I just did some bumming around the house today (read: moving one bit of junk/mail/clothing to another), and listened to some really bad television while doing so. You know, just general indecisiveness/laziness that takes up your time, but doesn't really get anything done...which is a shame, really, as I have not one but two trips coming up (Grandfather Mountain Highland Games in western North Carolina next weekend, and then up to Chicago the week after that). Oh well, I'm not called Princess Procrastination without good reason. It will all get done, sometime.
No one except me is really around at the house this weekend, all of my neighbours having gone to the beach or out of town to be with relatives, or some combination of both. Under the assumption I had things to do (and I'd actually do them), I had declined all offers from friends to go someplace else for the day. That said, I hadn't really planned on doing much in celebration tonight, either, but at about sunset I was feeling stir-crazy enough to go venture out and see if I could catch something aflame in the night sky. I'm still a kid at heart with this day, I guess.
With a rare bit of good timing, I made it over to the UNC campus before anything really got started. In fact, apparently I was one of many, many others feeling the same way: late arrivals all to the show kept pouring through the entrances. (I think the numbers were such that the officials held back that start time, honestly.) In years past, I've went to Kenan Memorial (UNC-Chapel Hill's prized football stadium) to watch the show and not seen even half of tonight's crowd in attendance. I don't know if it's the economy or what, but a lot more people 'stayed home' it appeared. Added plus: it's free to attend (even for the parking, very rare indeed for a TarHeel-hosted event).
It was a good, almost joyous crowd, with a good warm-up band who did rather excellent renditions of most of KC & The Sunshine Band's greatest hits. Before ignition, I closed my eyes and took it all in: babies crying and wailing loudly, kids running around playing tag in the stands, Moms and Dads smelling faintly of freshly-cut lawns, fried food and maybe even the odd glass of cheap wine. And it was a mostly clear night, with just a slight southerly breeze coming in. In short, it was the perfect night in which to celebrate all the blessings we Americans all take so much for granted.
And luckily for us, the fireworks were nothing short of spectacular.
Enjoying the yearly fireworks show, 2009. Kenan Memorial Stadium, UNC at Chapel Hill campus, Chapel Hill, NC.
Night Out at The Colony: "Frank Zappa's 200 Motels"
Taking a small break tonight from updating/blogging as I'm headed out to The Colony Theatre over in Raleigh to see Frank Zappa's 200 Motels", as part of their Cool Classics at The Colony movie series. (More information on that diverse series can be found here.)
Promotional poster for Frank Zappa's 200 Motels", 1971. Copyright acknowledgment extended to its respective owners.
I've always wanted to see "200 Motels" for a variety of reasons, ever since I first heard about while studying film in college. Supposedly featuring the story of a band on tour going from town to town (although there is a lot more to it, Zappa was known for 'layering' all of his projects with a variety of messages), the film was cheaply made in just about a week, features some guest cameos from Ringo Starr to Keith Moon to Motorhead, and then somehow thrown together after several people involved in its production hastily quit. (The ever-smooth and nostalgic "Almost Famous" it ain't, people.) Combine that with an equally-rushed soundtrack, and it's a surprise that the film ever got released...but it did, and by United Artists no less. And, from what I have been told/read before, it's also full of surprises (some of which really worked...and some of which did not). I get the impression "200 Motels" will either work in some weird sort of way or else be an epic fail for me. But honestly, those are always the best films to watch.
It should be an interesting show, and perhaps a pretty interesting crowd in attendance as well. While I'm not a fan of Zappa's music per se (sacrilege!), I do appreciate all that he was trying to do, as confusing as that sometimes came across. If you put any time into reading about Zappa, you'll discover very quickly what an unappreciated, unconventional genius he was. Like his music, I don't suspect this movie will ever be confused with being 'mainstream'...but then again, 'mainstream' has always been highly overrated.
I'm all for giving new films, or old films that featured some 'new' ideas, a look...creativity in cinema seems to be a bit of a dying art these days, so best enjoy it when you can. Tonight's showing is scheduled to start at about 8pm, although The Colony always throws in a number of era-appropriate trailers beforehand, many of which are some of the funniest (intentionally and otherwise) ever made. (Truly, they have trailers that should be in the Trailer Hall of Shame, and they are simply not to be missed.) Admission is $5 (cash only), and the fresh popcorn is really good. UPDATE August 20..."200 Motels" review from last night: like Syd Barrett (the mentally ill frontman and founder of Pink Floyd) & Spinal Tap took a bad acid hit and then decided to make a musical, starring the The (adult) Teletubbies and Newman's (from the TV comedy "Seinfeld") hippie older brother. Pros: Keith Moon (from The Who) in drag as a nun. The "Ode to the Penis" part (actually it's called "The Penis Dimension") was pretty damn funny, too. Cons: the people up front should have shared what they had and passed it back, as it was needed by the rest of us. Even for Zappa, this was a bit much for me to completely appreciate. Recommendations: only watch if under the influence, perhaps heavily even.
This is another 'skipped' entry I'm bringing over, modified only slightly, and written on Christmas Eve last year.
A week ago, I was driving along on a lonely, dark rural road covered with fog. Wipers thrashing this way and that, I could still barely see in front of my hood...the rain showers were intermittent, but all the water and humidity surrounding me clouded my view still the same. Headed to the beach I was, hopeful that the weather would eventually clear and I'd get some much-needed relaxation and fun, if even for a day. I had made the mistake of starting this drive...a little more than four hours...right after my workday had concluded, and also during the 'drive home' rush hour (just for that extra little bit of stress). Traveling by myself, I had been lucky to that point, not too hot and not too cold, singing along with song after song until eventually one station and then another soon faded away into the ether. Eventually static took over everything that wasn't a religious sermon, talk radio, or Spanish programming and I just switched the radio off. Now, with an hour still to go before my cozy hotel room by the sand would come into view, I found myself driving over a lengthy bridge that crosses the Alligator River. With only the 'twhup, twhup, twhup' sound of rubber tires rolling over concrete engineering to keep me company.
There was not another car in sight, in either direction. And my shoulders were stiff and sore from concentrating on the road, on the rain, on the bridge with the water running alongside.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I crossed the Alligator and found a place wide enough for me to pull over my truck. I took several deep breaths and then eventually got out, doing neck stretches and arm pulls...anything to keep me more alert and loosen my aching, tense neck and shoulder muscles. For a couple of minutes I did this, looking around for another set of lights in the distance or maybe the rogue deer, but found nothing. I climbed back in for the last bit of the trek, not exactly renewed but far from dispirited now. Several more neck rolls and arm stretches happened as I started up, pulled away, and gradually built up speed again. Channels of water ran alongside both sides of the road now, as the highway crawled further and further into the welcoming shores of the Outer Banks. The rain let up, but the fog was thickening.
I tried the radio again, and was pleasantly surprised that a reception from a Virginia station came in loud and clear. The voice, familiar in some ways but not immediately identifiable to me (and on commercial break was discovered to be none other than rock n' roll showman Alice Cooper on his syndicated show), was talking about favourite Christmas songs...songs that have been huge hits, songs that have survived all sorts of social change since their initial release, songs that always pull on the heartstrings year after year. The usuals ("White Christmas" by Bing Crosby, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" best known from Burl Ives, "Blue Christmas" from Elvis Presley, etc) of course made the cut. As one rainy mile rolled into the next, Alice got me thinking about my favourite Christmas songs...or, rather, why I don't have one especially.
Indulge me a moment while I give you my Christmas back story...
I am the only child of parents who never really had time or energy to properly celebrate the holiday. My beloved father coped with a terminal illness for most of my life and worked full-time while doing so; my overwhelmed mother took care of him and me while (eventually) working two full-time jobs herself. He first became ill when I was just six years old and he was initially given just a handful of months to live...a diagnosis that both of my parents flatly refused to accept from the onset. That illness, though, would rule our lives forevermore. For months on end, we would all pack up the old Mercury Marquis at 3 in the morning and head two hours south for his training and treatment. Mom and Dad would train in an area I was not allowed for 4-5 hours, whereas I would stay in the hospital lobby alone downstairs with my books and crayons. (As reckless as that last bit sounds now, I caution to say it was 1976 and things were much different then, and also that a security guard stopped by to check on me every half hour. I never once felt scared or had anything bad happen to me, although I did get lonely a good deal.) After treatments were completed, we'd all pack up again and head home once more: me to watch TV and call my teacher for missed lessons, Mom and Dad off to work with me tagging alongside Dad or off to a babysitter. Even after the travel subsided a bit, this schedule was our norm.
That first year of his illness and training was especially tough on us. He became very sick over Thanksgiving, with doctors concerned that he would not see Christmas at all. Things so readily alleviated now were major obstacles back then...an infection that would not lessen, the building up of toxins within his system, a fever that would come and go without warning. My father was scared but resolved, my mother was helpless but strong...and I was clueless and wanting to talk about my Christmas list. With painful clarity, I remember serenading him and my mother and the nurses with "Silent Night" on a very rare visit to see him in the his room, located almost in the ICU. Even then, I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but I was proud of myself when I saw him and Mama tear up. For years afterward, I thought I had provided a happy moment.
During that same hospitalization, nurses and others tried to keep my spirits up while also trying to help me understand the severity of Dad's situation. But I was a Daddy's girl and I was in denial...Dad and I had made plans, you see, and nothing like a little kidney failure could stop that. He and I had a routine: country walks on Saturday, new car visits on Sunday, reading the newspaper and watching TV together the rest of the week around studies and work. He and I were inseparable, as I was the apple of his eye whereas I thought he hung the stars in heaven just for me. (Dear Mama was the long-forgotten third wheel, I hate to admit.) But someone, and I still can't really remember who as I've blocked much of it out, finally communicated how close I was to losing him. And somehow that Christmas wish list held no significance anymore, even though it had dominated our conversations for weeks.
So the next time I saw him in his room I held his hand like I always did and sat there until he woke up. When he did, he asked what changes had happened to the list...what did I want now from Santa, he asked from a tired and bloated face. For you to make it through Christmas and be with me, I answered. Fully awake now, his eyes met mine and, at that moment, he knew that I knew. And we smiled at each other, through tears.
From that day forward, we became a unified team once more...not only that day, not only that Christmas, but for twenty more Christmases to come. He never hid any future illness from me, nor did my Mama on his specific request. And I never really pursued gifts for the holiday after that, as the whole 'list' lost its appeal in light of the bigger wish for him to completely recover...a wish that would never be granted in this world. Dearest Mama, a woman who was created specifically to shop for and enjoy the Christmas holiday, would try her best to fit in all the traditional 'other family' routines: an overly-decorated tree, an Elvis Christmas album she played constantly, visits to relatives I didn't know for dinner. Dad and I, peas in a pod that we were, would tolerate it all as best we could, but never got into the spirit much. For he and I, surviving through Christmas was the goal, and once another season had passed by uneventfully, then did we feel joyous. In some respects, I see now we probably got that all wrong.
I lost my best friend ever eleven years ago, soon to be twelve, but not a day goes by that I don't think of Dad. Or about holding his hand, walking with him, talking with him, laughing with him. There are so many things I want to ask his opinion on, or ask for his advice on...and the silence of his lost voice is deafening. I have worn a ring of his every day since that horrible horrible day in March, but it's the only thing I still have of his. That ring and the memories.
Christmases, unfortunately, have carried on for me since his death just as they did when he was still here: very little fanfare with a few gifts for Mama, the occasional card mailed, the odd decoration put up. Christmas has been something to be overcome, not something to be relished. Mama still loves it as much as she ever did, but she's given up trying to convert me to her enthusiastic approach.
And I'm thinking about all of this, and like now having a bit of a cry, as I'm barreling down NC Highway 64. Wishing I had Dad with me to see the Atlantic...did he ever see an ocean, I wonder, as I don't know...but also remembering with a chuckle how much he hated the cold and rain in his later years. Wondering, as I sometimes do, if he would be happy with me now, supportive of my decisions, curious as to what he would criticize. Meanwhile, Alice has played some traditional Christmas tunes (well, rock-modified ones, anyway, this is Alice Cooper, after all) and he's now talking about how some of the best holiday songs are the least known here...and how it takes people some time to find their 'perfect' song.
"Yes, Alice," I said as I pulled into the outskirts of Manteo, wiping my eyes. "Yes, we all need a 'perfect' Christmas song." Mockingly, I said this aloud in the dark but warm cabin of the Nissan. I was thinking I needed to change the channel, and pull myself out of this momentary depression.
Then Alice played this song, something I had never heard in its entirety before, although apparently it's been like the Most Popular Christmas Song in the UK since its release back in the early 1970s. It's from Slade (yes, that Slade), and it's called "Merry Christmas, Everybody". (Video from YouTube.)
Slade performing "Merry Christmas, Everybody". Circa 1973.
And so I listened, singing off-tune as usual a bit, wiping back the occasional tear as I slowly passed garlands and wreaths displayed on car washes, churches, and the random fast food sign. The rain had subsided to a light mist now, although the fog still shadowed the lampposts and traffic lights. At the end, as I turned left going into Manns Harbour, I fully admit I was belting away at a loud volume...and I did not want the song to finish. Play it again, Alice, play it again. It's tough to cry and smile and sing all at the same time, but I swear I did all three. I have virtually nothing in common with any of the lyrics, but no matter, it was what I needed to hear right then. Is it the 'perfect' song for me, or even for the mighty Christmas season? Probably not, but perfection is only judged so in relation to the moments it appears. And for that moment at least, it was a perfect Christmas song for me, and it helped clear my emotional deck...helping me enjoy my very limited time away from work.
So, Merry Christmas, everybody, and I mean that genuinely and deeply from my heart. I may not be infused with the Christmas spirit per se, but I am wise enough to appreciate the good friends and family I am so deeply blessed to have. May tomorrow be a great and peaceful day spent with your families.
This is the first of my 'catch-up' posts...items I've written about in my journal since the spring, but am just now bringing over to the blog. Have some patience with me, folks, as I get them all moved over...
Every so often, I get to see God, live and in person. Now when some people say that, it generally entails some further explanation about a religious epiphany that has occurred to them. In my case, it's a tad bit more humble and a far bit more accessible to the modern man and gal: it just means I've seen an Elvis Costello show.
I had such a pleasure this past Sunday (June 14), out at the Koka Booth Amphitheatre in Cary. Ideally, Koka is not a great venue for 'big draw' concerts, but given this was God's tour with The Sugarcanes (promoting his latest album, "Secret, Profane & Sugarcane"), a smaller venue such as this worked really, really well. The material on this album, as well as some of his more recent releases, suits a 'quieter' venue much better than the mammoth Walnut Creek would in comparison, or even in comparison to the new (and dare I say it?) and sterile-feeling Durham Performing Arts Center (DPAC). This album mines from a more bluegrass, traditional, Americana-like stream, but still features God's poignant and brilliant lyrics. (I occasionally read an interview with some new 'up and coming' talent who says he/she just also wants to be a great songwriter. Until someone actually says they've studied under the tutelage of God and His pen, I really can't take them too seriously. He's that damn good.) Add to this that Koka probably has the best acoustics of any largish-size venue in the area, so having a good show was almost a given before arrival.
A bit to my amazement, the show did not seem like a complete sell-out. I always buy lawn seats there, as you can bring your own chair (and, depending on the event, can often bring in your own food and drink), and there were more than a few 'empty' spots near the back. 'Tis a shame, really, for those that missed it, but was a full-fare show for those that did make it out...and many of us are/were die-hard fans. God, who over the years has been both relaxed and uptight talking in the shows of which I've been in attendance, seemed in particularly good spirits Sunday. Not such a hard place to be, really, as The Sugarcanes (featuring Jim Lauderdale) were in fine form and his audience more than receptive to any number of small errors. It was not a perfect show to be certain...but I've rarely been to a live show that was...but its few imperfections made it all the more human and great.
All told, age and newly rediscovered fatherhood has served Him, and His musical ventures, very well. Whereas other contemporaries have long since come and gone (and perhaps even tried to come back again in the form of a reunion tour or something), or perhaps have seen their lyrical impact fall on deaf years, Mr Costello He keeps cranking out gems here or there that still have relevance, still creating a devoted following. Considering that some of that following (myself included) have been fans for 30+ years now is quite a testament. Further, the fact that He and His audience would/could still consider themselves 'young' and 'still questioning' is quite a revelation: either as a sign of greatness still to come or as a sign of our mutual utopian hope for the world to improve itself.
Elvis Costello and The Sugarcanes do a cover of the Grateful Dead's "Friend of Mine" at Koka Booth Amphitheatre, Cary, NC, June 14, 2009.
God's voice sounded strained mid-song a bit at times...I don't know if it was a cold or allergies or age taking a toss at him...but he gave a very full, diverse set. The few 'classics' he whipped out from his many previous incarnations..."Allison", "Indoor Fireworks", and "King of America"...had been slightly modified to fit more easily within The Sugarcanes 'sound'. I've seen him on three continents so far over the years...and should I win the lottery, I will go see him on any other applicable ones...but his steadiness remains throughout. As I enthusiastically told a friend of mine tonight (a friend who plays regularly with a local bluegrass band), it wasn't so much as a band playing God's songs, backing God, as much as it was God sitting in on a really great bluegrass jam session, desperately wanting to contribute in any way he could. The success of shows such as Sunday's reaffirms that His disciples, like the leader Himself, refuse to be genre-typed or boxed in musically. And we're all damn well better off because of it.
The tour continues through the summer months, so go see them when it rolls through your neck of the woods: like fine-aged whisky, the blend of age with Elvis only tastes sweeter as it spreads out through your brain, your heart, and even your soul. Check out the tour schedule here.
Okay, enough of this damn slacking. It's time to get back to this blog, at long last...even if I'm the only reader. I'm much happier person when I write, and I have a right to be as happy as the next person (maybe even more so). I want to, so I shall.
And I have lots to write about...it's been a very busy summer so far.
Let's get this baby started up again and pulled back out on the road.
So, maybe the treadmill at the gym is working after all...
For the third year (at least), I signed up and participated in the UNC 5K Kidney Kare Run/Walk, held this year over in Carrboro on March 21. And, no, let us not be confused: I did the walk, and not the run. (Never have quite gotten the appeal of running, really, as I've known some runners with hellishly painful joints, especially knees.)
In the past two years, I have taken two different approaches to this Walk, both with mixed results:
In the first year, I strolled and strolled, enjoying the budding trees and even rescued a fallen birds' nest from one of the residential streets the Walk route goes down. It was a bit of a 'zen' thing then, getting in touch with the world around me and also not overdoing it because I really wasn't into it for any 'exercise' potential. I finished right at the end, but I felt like I had toured Walden Pond.
Last year, at the beginning of my 'serious' attempts to lose weight (40+ pounds ago), I took to it with the enthusiasm of a new recruit off on her first march in the Army. No time for the trees, the birds, not even a thank you wave to the volunteers passing out water at the halfway point. Nope, I am serious this year became the mantra going through my head. In the end, about a mile to go from the finish line, my energy bottomed out and I dragged myself across the line (well, not literally, but to my psyche, I might as well have). On the other side waiting...a superior level colleague and a group of his friends, none of whom had even broken a sweat, kidding me about being so out of shape that had it been a kilometer longer I would have required oxygen.
I love you, too, Sir. Really, I do.
For me, this might as well have been the victory trophy for this year's race. Yes, it's a keeper for the 'motivation' files.
This year, I had done some preparation. In addition to joining the gym as a way to finally do something about my weight and overall appearance for the long haul, I had a goal in mind: a 15 minute walking mile. As I would quickly discover, that was a bit much to hope for (especially for someone who has been pretty lifelong adverse to exercise in the first place), but I was doing a 17:08 mile on the treadmill, even with mild inclines. I'm still a long work in progress, but at least I'm progressing now.
This year, I was there early. This year, I had water. This year, I had stretched and prepped and could even pass a lot of folks while making my way to...the middle of the pack. All told: 5K walk in 53:54. Horrible, I know, but it's a start and I will improve upon it. Horrible, I know, as I didn't keep the 17:08/mile pace (the race inclines were more than I had prepped for so I slowed down in those sections). Wonderful, though, because I beat same said superior level colleague (and all other members of his group) this year by a full 10:04. The look on their faces as I was waiting for them this year at the finish line was absolutely priceless.
Don't let anybody tell you anything different: Life is good.
Recently, as even I have become too weary of news/talk radio and even more weary of our overdone 'buy it now' commercials (the latter an affliction I've had for a good number of years), I've been trying to find some new music. Unfortunately, my local radio market is still heavily dominated by Clear Channel's ever-repeating loops of the same crap, or syndicated shows with the same hosts playing the same crap. (Sorry, "Delilah" listeners: listening to that every night, no matter how well-intended the purpose of the show, would send me over the edge in a week.)
It's gotten so bad, that I'm actually starting to hate the bands Coldplay and Nickelback because of this endless repetition...bands I once really liked. (Note to bands/PR companies/record execs who pay the Clear Channel & Co 'piper': too much airplay can be a very bad thing over the long haul.) Contrary to the now infamous song of the 1980s, video does not kill the radio star: greed and over-exposure do.
So, once again, I've been looking to find new tunes via online outlets.
At work, listening online for me is particularly troublesome as we now have a variety of 'filters' that are designed and in place for us to not do anything that might make the daily 'to do' bit more enjoyable. I perhaps miss music the most, as I work in a windowless former closet and generally in excess of 9 hours a day, sometimes more. Music is a passion of mine, even though my direct participation is limited to non-existent these days. Distractions, even those in the background and on a low volume, remind me there is an outside world beckoning...and that gets me through even my tough days.
However, in a particular act of kindness, the powers that be relented on the 'no music' rule and eased up a bit more recently and will now let us satisfy our audio needs: for no more than 60 minutes a day, done in 15 minute blocks of our choosing. (Hey, it's a start back...I'll take it.) Some sites, though, still are blocked: Last.FM, for instance, and even Live 365 (of which I still have a station there...click here for the link). However, I can sneak in the occasional moment of Mozart through our classical radio station (WCPE, Wake Forest, NC), or drift over to any number of stations worldwide through my fave portal, Surfmusic. I'm practically happy again...and it beats the hell out of the copier hum.
From that last site, I re-found Clyde FM from Glasgow. Now I know I have a rather strong connection to my Scottish heritage, and even though I've been on a 'Rule Britannia' bit recently, I listen to Clyde a bit more than some others not only because of their general 'upbeat' approach (even when discussing their boggled traffic and dismal forecasts), but because they play some stuff I have never heard before...and, sadly, even months after, still does not get airplay here. And, generally, I tire pretty damn quick of what constitutes 'pop' music. (That's another rant for another day, believe me.) Clyde may be the 'Clear Channel' prototype for Scotland, who knows, but I'm for whoever can bring some variety and fun back to whatever passes for radio these days. And music...actual music instead of what passes for rap and/or 'instrumental' solos and/or 'sampling mixes' (and I'm using those last terms very loosely) would be good for a change. (MTV/VH1 should maybe re-consider that 'music' thing, too, but I'm not holding my breath.)
Two of the voices that have I have discovered from Clyde are now, amazingly...finally...getting some attention (albeit minor) with airplay over here. Keep in mind our announcers know next to nothing about them, if they even do acknowledge the songs, but I'm hopeful this might indicate an ever so small shift from the constant dreck on US 'pop' airwaves...somebody somewhere, is paying attention. Our luck would be that person got laid off yesterday.
The first is Duffy, who reminds me some of a long-time fave of mine, Dusty Springfield. I've always been a fan of 'throaty' singers with range, especially female ones who can go from a purr to a growl in less than a heartbeat, and Duffy gives me all indications she is up for that and more. Simplicity, even to the point of being borderline retro, is not a detriment if the singer knows how to, and does, carry the emotion over to listeners. I'm actually slightly more fond of Duffy's "Mercy" song, but could not find a video of such that I liked, so we'll go with my second-fave, the heart-broken "Warwick Avenue" instead here:
Duffy's "Warwick Avenue". Video embed from MTV's video collection...yes, believe it, from MTV. Someone remembers.
The second is a powerhouse of a singer, Jazmine Sullivan, who (in typical American mass radio practices) has been marketed to an 'urban' (read: black/African-American) audience, even though I think her appeal is far, far larger than that. (Fingers crossed somebody wises up: music has never been color-blind, its marketing should never be, either.) I'm not sure if I like Sullivan's voice or the 'sound' of her songs more...I guess I'll figure that out for certain with her next album. The first time I heard Ms Sullivan I thought she was maybe Mary J. Blige...and I love the voice and performances of Ms. Mary J. I was first hooked with Ms Sullivan's "Bust Your Windows", but it's her latest, "Lions, Tigers, and Bears", that I find absolutely memorable.
Jazmine Sullivan making it look easy: "Lions, Tigers, and Bears". Now we must keep the non-singers from attempting it at the next karaoke party...
Please, Clyde and others helping your online listeners survive these grey-filled days, bring on some more of this... and thank you.
It was an absolutely glorious weekend this past Saturday and Sunday, and groundhog or no, I'm hopeful that this warming burst somehow triggers an early return of Spring. I'm so over Winter, and its snow, cold wind, and long, grey days...and I live in the Mid-Atlantic, for Pete's sake, where really we have nothing to endure weather-wise. (People back home, especially the dear Mama, who have suffered through endless snow, ice, sleet and the ever-so-fun occasional power outage have something to really complain about.)
So, with the warm weather, I'm returning to a passion of mine: DIY. But not my DIY (as I'm now at a point with the apartment where I can only do so much more as a renter) specifically, but back to volunteering with Habitat for Humanity on a more regular basis. There is something really quite wonderful about helping someone build, and then live in, a new home: a home you helped to construct with your own hands, your own sweat, your own labour. And if you learn, or maybe re-learn, a new skill or two along the way...you're better off still. Few opportunities exist that are this immediately rewarding.
To those that want to learn, Habitat for Humanity build sites are really quite educational and wonderful. (I've always believed that if all the 'flippers' of recent years had been required to do a year volunteering with Habitat prior to getting their loans, a good number of homes nationwide would not have been as botched, or unsold. You want reality about home construction/refurbishing? Come follow and film Habitat for awhile.) Sure, some volunteers are more skilled than others (and I'm certainly on the lower end of even the less skilled, as several builders and professional tradespeople often donate their time), but the spirit of helping out others...and actually carrying that spirit through from inception to completion...is contagious. Except for lunchtime when everyone is ravenous, no one's going around checking the time as everyone is just plowing along, from one task to the next (and lunch gets donated sometimes from people saying 'thanks', too). With very few restrictions, you can learn any number of skills and help out on any number of projects. You work alongside the future homeowners (who are required to put in a substantial amount of 'sweat equity'), church groups, friends of the intended family, construction professionals, and people just like me...people who walk in off the street with a pair of work gloves and are willing to help. And the demand for affordable housing, especially in these troubled economic times, is great indeed.
So, this past Saturday, I joined up with Habitat again...this time with a very lively and productive group from Pittsboro, NC. This group presently has three homes under construction at the Pittsboro site I worked at, plus another closer to completion in nearby Siler City, NC. And while I am very rusty, I got handed a job that I actually wasn't too bad at (albeit a bit slow): exterior painting. Below is some of my painting handiwork (I think we've got about 65-70% of the house painted now), of which I'm pretty proud. Not bad for a first day back in a long time...
This is one of the three homes currently under construction in Pittsboro. This one, and the one to its right, are single story construction, while the third one across the street is a two story. First time I've been to a Habitat site with these many volunteer build homes (a cul de sac at the end of a wooded lane, if you will) being constructed simultaneously.
Perhaps not much to brag about unless you're me: did the whole side of this until the high portions above the window, as I'm bad with ladders)...the window is well above my height and I'm close to six feet tall. I was pleased actually, been ages since I worked with a roller.
It's 73 degrees outside, the sun is shining, and there's not a cloud in the sky. (Although if history says anything, there will be.) I'm off today from work, and tomorrow, and the day after. Also the weekend that follows. And, in a true testament that I'm living the good life these days, my friends have not forgotten me...sending cards, gifts, emails. From a world close and to lands afar, I've been contacted by many. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.
Let me share some of which I've received today by email (both videos from YouTube)...
From Lisa (who thankfully sent me something else as a gift, but this is pretty damn cute in its own right):
The Birthday Hamster
From J, who sent this off in a moment while getting some overpriced coffee in SoCal (and this is so wrong on so many levels, but brings back some great memories of working with her...smooches, kiddo!):
Weird Al Yankovic singing "Happy Birthday". Lyrics can be found here.
("Come on boys and girls, sing along...okay?")
These friends alone make my day even more special, even more memorable.
I'm horribly sorry about the lack of recent posts, as I'm been busy doing some work and offsite projects which have really been taking up my free time. In addition to starting some new things that will improve my health and stress levels (or so I think, anyway), I'm also trying to get some work-related items done pronto, too, to meet a fast-approaching deadline. Again, my apologies.
Down South, we who live here are always aware that we're all a bit schizophrenic in what we hold dear...we respect our distinctive and historical Southern culture, yet have spent billions of late to make ourselves into some of the most modern cities in America. We appreciate (and want) a slow-cooked, old-fashioned meal, but yet we also race around all day long on interstates and complain about the speed limits still being too low. Some here still speak with a pronounced slower drawl, all the while helping you solve problems with your latest tech gizmo. Confederate flag and Obama bumper stickered-cars park side by side without incident, and hell, the owners most likely are friends. There are many, many things that make us the South, and that make us a direct contradiction to those not lucky enough to live here.
Recently, even our dear Mother Nature has been playing along. To put it bluntly, 'winter' as I have known it here and elsewhere as a child, has taken a leave this season. Instead, we're getting something more akin to Forecast Roulette. And, with Mother's recent involvement, I'm actually starting to believe more in the whole global warming movement. I've been to many places throughout the world and survived more than a few weather events...but never have I consistently seen the weekly temperature swings I have this winter.
The week of the Inauguration, we had snow that Tuesday, which gradually wore away over the next two days ('wore away' being the operative words as we really do not have the hard-core snow removal equipment like many states do). By that weekend, though, we were sunny, almost early Spring-like, pushing 65. This week, some areas got snow last night...but, once again, we're predicted to be in the 70s by the weekend (see below). And, while we may not have had snow each time we've dipped down low this season, the dips and subsequent swings back upwards have been frequent.
It's nothing of a small wonder how more of us are not sick from all the temperature changes up and down. Dressing in layers...something that is generally left to those who have moved here from up North or those lucky enough to live on the coast...has taken on a new art form. You leave the house in the morning dressed for one season, but come prepared to strip a layer off as you'll drive home in another. This whole flux has got more than a few...self included...wondering if this year, (not totally dissimilar to what is going on with our economy and nation), is bringing forth some new future none of us are really prepared for.
Last week, as the world watched as a new President be inaugurated on an historic day, I sat at home and watched the snow fall outside. We don't get a lot of snow here, so when we do, most things sort of shut down...schools are closed, roads unsalted for hours on end, mass runs on milk and bread occur at local grocery stores. Normally, I would be considered part of the 'essential personnel', but this time we took advance action on Monday night...so I got to stay home. And I enjoyed quite the glorious sight, even if it was all melted away by early Friday morning.
The now very iconic "Hope" poster of Barack Obama, courtesy of a contributor pool from Flickr.
Words from The Man himself, who (thankfully) became President today...
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. All this we will do.
~ President Barack Obama, 44th President of the United States of America, January 20, 2009
A complete copy of his Inaugural Speech can be found here.
The speech, while well-written and focused, was also not as electric as it had been hyped up to be. It was not like one given by the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., nor Abraham Lincoln, nor John F. Kennedy...all of whom Obama has been compared to, for various reasons, for many months now. Nor was today's speech too akin to the one he gave after securing the Democratic nomination. However, it was concise, direct, and full of confidence...and what a change that was to see, even from the confines from my living room. But then again, I'm not sure I want an 'electric' President in office; instead, I want one not afraid to do things and see that they are done...and does them fairly, openly, and without breaking umpteen Constitutional laws to do so. (Let's face it, that would be a nice damn change, too, from the last decade, truly, when you consider the whole Dubya administration and the last two years of the Clinton presidency...the latter which was politically immobilized after the Monica Lewinsky debacle.)
I liked what I saw and heard from our new President, although I am anxious for the details to come forth and the plans to be implemented. But one day at a time, people, one day at a time. However, for the first time in a very, very long time, I felt I could truly support my leader once again.
Funny how that whole thing with 'faith' and 'trust' works in politics, isn't it?
Additionally, I found the following links that I feel are worth a look:
As we wind down this most ugliest tenures in American history tonight, I wanted to touch upon and include just the briefest summary of some of the injustices we have endured. It is a litany of problems, large and small, for certain. But it also represents one of the greatest opportunities for us going forward: to finally start to fix all these problems, and be a respected leader on the world stage once again. God knows, it's long, long overdue.
Dubya, I don't even know where to begin when describing your crimes and your ignorance. Luckily for us all, Keith Olbermann from MSNBC's "Countdown" does.
Keith Olbermann on CNBC's "Countdown", reporting his editorial peace of The Bush Presidency in Eight Minutes.
And what an absolutely frightening eight minutes that is, truth be told. Watch this and weep first...then watch it again and take notes of the many problems still thriving. Those notes are now our challenges as a country, and they represent what will be needed to solve those problems.
May you have one of happiness, and not of tears. May you have one of ambition, and not of fears. May the star you wish upon come finally within your reach, May the lessons you learn equal those that you teach. May the dreams that you dream be happy and true, May the failures you suffer be minor and few. May you always recall the taste and tenderness of your lover's mouth, May you follow passions as they lead...east, west, north and south. May your endurance be long, your strength at the ready, May your confidence not fail you, may your conscience hold steady. May you follow the winds to the sails of your heart, And may you treasure the end of your day as much as its start.
I've wanted to do this for ages, but for the past two years that inspiration would come and go by the wayside...or at least would not get 'recalled' until the proper time for such posts had long since past. This year, I'll maybe get some of this down at last. It's still unknown how many parts this will be.
Best shows from this year (in no particular order, and I've thrown in pictures where I could...and please forgive if they are repeats from the slide shows):
AC/DC at the Time Warner Cable Arena in Charlotte, December 18. I've expounded on this at length to anyone within earshot, so I'll spare you non-heavy-metalheads another plug for these legends' Black Ice world tour. Still amazed they're as good as they were (esp as they've been doing this for 35+ years), and still do not regret a cent spent for my rather highly-priced (for me, $100+) ticket. Would enthusiastically still do it again, although not on the backside of a 24-hr-long beach vacation.
AC/DC performing "You Shook Me All Night Long", Time Warner Cable Arena, Charlotte, NC, December 18, 2008.
St. Patrick's Day celebration featuring Hercules Mulligan and My Three Kilts, and a host of other acts before and after, at Tir Na Nog, Raleigh, March 15 weekend. Not only music and beer, but quite easily the most agreeably drunk lot of Irish, Irish-descendant, and Irish-wannabes I've ever encountered in this neck of the woods. I will not put up pictures of such event on here to protect the innocent, however let me just say I'm frankly not sure who was the more 'memorable': Chris King (lead singer of the Hercs), the combined talent of My Three Kilts (who had the difficult job of directly following the Hercs), or my beloved Wise Ricky, who reduced himself to banging in rhythm on the table with the silverware, scaring all of the neighbouring table guests, and then somehow remembering his Virginia upbringing by calling his Irish mother to wish her a happy holiday...all the while banging away on said wooden tables.
Great Big Sea at Fletcher Opera Theater in The Progress Energy Performing Arts Center in Raleigh, October 29. A strong runner-up to Best Show (Period) this year...Alan Doyle and Company had the audience eating out of their hands from the outset and kept it going all night long. My first Great Big Sea concert down here and I did not leave disappointed. I've seen Mr. Doyle before...but with another band and on mostly on another continent...and was more than pleasantly surprised with his easy demeanor and friendly style (the other arrangement did not let him speak much). The show wasn't so much a concert per se, but more a singalong party atmosphere among an earnestly devoted group of fans --- fans who knew every word, and to every song, for the most part. Standing room only from the first chord to the end, too (at least in my section).
And dispute the complaints of the reviewer linked here (calling it 'a ridiculous distraction'), I thought the 'fan jumping on stage to declare her love for her now husband and children' bit was more than a bit welcome, and actually very well received, by most in attendance. (C'mon, people, have a heart.) I found out post-concert that the 'she' (and her husband) in question are Friends of this Blogger (and great friends and supporters of the Hercs as well), aka Mr. and Mrs. Pat Young. Well done, everybody.
Great Big Sea performing in the Fletcher Opera Theater at The Progress Energy Performing Arts Center, Raleigh, NC, October 29, 2008.
Barleyjuice at The Grandfather Mountain Highland Games in Linville, July 12. While I've been on the fence about who the Kings of the Mountain are, so to speak, in the past, I do think that Barleyjuice slightly nudged out the Scottish lads of Albannach this go-around (at the Highland Games, anyway...it's a friendly competition). I love their energy, I love their instrumental work, I love the happy-go-lucky rumble of their characters. Given the especially difficult task of getting this year's Saturday Night Concert going (previous acts had lulled some of the audience into a bit of a nap), the Barleyjuice lads more than took on the challenge and won. Additional shows at the Williamsburg Scottish Festival later in October only cemented my appreciation of them.
Barleyjuice performing in one of the morning grove stages at the Grandfather Mountain Highland Games, Linville, NC, July 12, 2008.
Reckless Kelly, Nashville Pussy and The Reverend Horton Heat at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh, November 6. I hate to say this, but I all but missed Reckless Kelly this show (and, yes, I know I shall burn for this, as RK is a damn fine band). I've seen RK do several other shows over the years, and I guess I saw it as a reasonable sacrifice in terms of things to come. The last time I saw the Rev at the Lincoln...last year in a memorable trifecta that had Nashville Pussy opening (something seems so wrong when typing that), Hank Williams III/Assjack in the mid-show, and the Reverend closing...I had the misfortune of (a) being a bit body slammed into the side walls (courtesy of the 'hillbilly mosh pit' that occurred during the Assjack set), and (b) losing out on getting an additional beer later on, and (c) seriously wondered if I was getting too old for this fan base.
So armed with that knowledge this year, I deliberately set out to get the beer rations in advance and also a handy T-shirt work shirt. Reckless Kelly almost-miss aside, the Nashville Pussy show was absolutely top-notch and the RHH (especially my favourite bassist ever, Jimbo) showed, once again, why they deserve to be headliners anywhere they go. (And while we're speaking of headliners, I fully expect Pussy to be doing just that next year...they consistently get, and keep, a show going.) And I didn't once miss the body slamming into the outside wall.
The Reverend Horton Heat at The Lincoln Theatre, Raleigh, NC, November 6, 2008. All-time crowd pleaser Jimbo is on the stand-up bass to the right.
More wonderful mentions as time allows tomorrow night...
Merry Christmas, friends and others just stopping by. I hope it's a great one for everybody, no matter where you are in life or wherever you find yourself situated.
I, myself, have already slept in some, but will partake in some homemade pizza, homemade beer, and homemade pumpkin pie later in the day with some friends. (Who says the holidays require 'traditional' food fare?) And I'll finish it with either a chaser of football on the telly or some overly-romantic British period piece...I have not decided yet. Thank heavens we're one of the (very few, it seems) places in the States not half-buried under snow or ice this year...instead, the lawn here on the farm is gleaming still from the morning dew and the warmth of a sun breaking through. It's a damn good day to be alive and I am thankful for that.
As per my usual (although I'm tardy this year, I know), I give you some of my favourite songs/videos of the holiday season. This time, it's a repeat classic which I shall never tire of: Robert Earl Keen's "Merry Christmas From the Family". While it has been covered now by any number of artists, this is the one I consider the original, and therefore, the best version. I'm never sure why it appeals to me the way it does...maybe it's because I actually knew some families like this way back in the day while still living in the Midwest??...but it's always cranked up when played on the radio.
Enjoy the Family, folks.
Robert Earl Keen singing the infamous 'Southern' theme song of Christmas: "Merry Christmas From the Family". Video clip from YouTube.
I have 'wrapper's wrist' as I have been doing too much gift-wrapping at work, (77 yesterday alone, but who's counting?), so the actual written descriptions for the last few days may not make it on here. However, there is one snippet of video from last Thursday's AC/DC concert in Charlotte that must make the cut...here and now.
Forget about separating the men from the boys, for we are about to separate the gods from the mere mortals. Gods with guitars anyway, and those are always the best kind.
The following, ladies and gentlemen, is how a guitar solo is supposed to be if it's done within a serious rock n' roll band. God bless AC/DC: still rockin' after all of these years, and they've been performing all over the world almost as long as I've been alive. Frankly, no further build-up is even necessary. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. Angus Young.
Angus Young doing part of his full-length tour de force solo, at the end of the "Let There Be Rock" at the Time Warner Cable Arena, Charlotte, NC, December 18, 2008. (The first link here will take you to a vintage 1977 video on YouTube, featuring the late, great former lead singer Bon Scott. Rest in peace, Bon, rest in peace.) And, yes, like many others taking pictures or doing short snippets such as this one, I did get permission from the security personnel before doing so. Sorry about the 'bounce' with the camera, it really could not be avoided from where I was standing. Also apologies about the short length here, too...I have a longer, better solo I tried repeatedly to upload...but Blogger has video size limits unfortunately.
I don't think I impress that easily and I've seen dozens and dozens of shows, of all rank and file and in varied location. The good ones sometimes escape your memory, but you remember the really bad ones and you 'chisel in stone' the totally fantastic ones. This AC/DC show is not only 'chisel'-worthy, but I'm honestly trying to determine if this is the all-time best show I've seen. (Its only strong competitor is Bruce Springsteen at the Dean Dome in Chapel Hill back in 1992, I think...a marathon show even by Bruce standards...that went well on into the night, and had us long-suffering-in-the-bleed-seats undergrads make it down to dance during the three or four encores.) When you consider the youngest of the lads in this band is an eternally-youthful 53 years (Angus) and the band's reputation speaks for itself, it is a bit mind-blowing that they can still take on...and still take down...all comers.
Though I grumbled when I first bought the ticket, arguably this turned out to be one of the best 'arena' shows I've been to in ages. The 'lads' (as it were, for rockers are never to get old), still have it in spades.
At the very minimum, an absolute 'must see' if you're a classic rock fan at all.
I will do a post of all the recent activities sometime this weekend, promise.
Just made it back from a day trip to Kill Devil Hills, NC, to the Orville and Wilbur Wright Memorial (in honour of the 105th anniversary of the First documented Flight), and also to Manteo, NC. Photos, details, and observations on that to come this weekend as well. Tons of pictures, actually...might end up as another slideshow you'll click through to see them all. Fabulous weather for all sorts of sightseeing yesterday, too.
Today, I am heading off to Charlotte to watch AC/DC's concert tonight at the Time Warner Arena there. Don't think they allow cameras for the show, but I'm sure I'll have some comments about it after I recover.
Nothing like crossing the state for events on two separate days...
Music, Beer, and Laughter: The Markings of the Weekend
Yes, folks, I still am alive. And, yes, folks, I still blog here...but admittedly it's become a struggle time-wise as of late with extra struggles at work, some out-of-town social events, and a few other projects going on. I am trying, although it may look otherwise at the moment.
This weekend, in my desperate attempt to let off some steam and maybe even actually escape from work-related things seven days a week, it's a trifecta of entertainment. I need the escape, I need to spend time with good friends and share a few chuckles. And I desperately need a vacation, but the chances of that happening is very dim indeed. So, I'll take what I can get...and (to quote Meatloaf, which is a first even for me I think) 'two out of three ain't bad'.
Friday: Long-time blog favourites Hercules Mulligan will be playing at the Tir Na Nog in downtown Raleigh from 7-9 pm. The newly-improved lineup, which features long-time members Dave Cauthorn on guitar and Chris King on vocals, whistle and drum, have been recently joined by Julie Ross on fiddle and concertina and Mike Baranski on banjo. It's a slightly different sound than the 'original' group that I adored at first sight a couple of years ago now...but I like where this newer creation is now going, too. And as I have said many times to friends and complete strangers in public (and think I have here, too), Chris King is quite arguably one of the best vocalists in the area and he has an easy rapport with his audiences. It will be good to see the gang again tonight.
Saturday: This is a bad day for me, as once again, I am double-booked for two things I really love and, unless an "Star Trek"-like transporter suddenly becomes safe and available to me, I'm going to have to choose between the two. Over in Raleigh, again at the Tir Na Nog, Elroy, North Carolina's finest, My Three Kilts, takes the stage from 7-9pm. Like the Mulligans, they also do a Celtic-inspired set, but with a rowdier/rockier tone and approach (the one liners can come at you fast and furious, and their 'R' rated sets are not to be missed). The Kilts were the wonderful hosts of Oktoberfest, which a slideshow is available for viewing in a previous post.
Over in Carrboro at around the time MTK are finishing up, (you see where the transporter would be so great with this, don't you?), cult favourite and banana puddin' eatin' and chicken throwin' icons, Southern Culture on the Skids, will be taking to the stage at the Cat's Cradle. (If you are not familiar with their sound or with the heavy audience participation at their shows, check out their "TV Room" for full-song clips. That and the recipes...and the recipes are real, some are damn tasty even...are great little features from their site.) The SCOTS are always a blast no matter where they play, but especially so in and around town here as they truly are local people. (As our the great Squirrel Nut Zippers, who had a show/art exhibition at the ArtsCenter on December 3 that regrettably I was unable to make. Another (part-time) local resident, comedian Lewis Black, got my attention in Durham that night instead.)
(Inserting small plea here: I know I say this practically every time and, yes, I also acknowledge that the economy has a lot of us hurting right now (self included), but if, at all possible, please come out and support live music shows and your local musicians. Countless hours of rehearsals and travel for some of these folks make any 'pay' they do get from venues practically non-existent. Local bands play for the love of playing and the hope of connecting with an audience...and, in good times as well as bad, they need audiences to come out and support them. If they've got merchandise and you can skip a fast food meal in the week to come, make the sacrifice...those few bucks are someone's new guitar strings or gas to/from the shows. As much as you can, I urge everyone to take up the challenge and go see a live music show somewhere that's convenient.)
Sunday: the Wise Ricky and I make beer. Now that he's gotten the 'I want to make cider' stage out of his system (and apparently it needs a few tweaks), we're back to what we know how to do best: beer, glorious beer. Our best batches, still, have been the Australian-like blends, although I'm hankering to try up a replicated batch of the English-brewed Fuller's London Pride (which is, thankfully, still made the correct way and its great taste shows it). I have an English patient from work who I have to thank for this great recommendation, and now that I know I can somewhat readily get it through an importer here, I have developed a deeper (and new) appreciation for this exceedingly pleasant and mellow gem. I still prefer my Carlton Crown Lager from Oz, mind you, but hell it's been two years+ since I've been able to indulge in any of that as it's sadly not sold over here...and a girl has needs, ya know?
And finally on Sunday, we get to pop Ricky's cherry a bit movie-wise. After the next great batch of homebrew is done and happily in creation, we're whipping out the popcorn and other necessities for what I hope will become a monthly tradition: Movie Night. (Or maybe Movie Day, as Ricky needs and enjoys his sleep far more than I do.) We're starting with a couple of comedy classics that, inexplicably, Ricky has somehow avoided in his 40+ years so far in being the smartest man I've ever met: "This Is Spinal Tap", and "Best in Show" (the latter especially as Ricky's job and love for dogs is well-known). Dear Ricky is not the world's biggest movie fan by any means...and it is one of my deepest passions, so it's an area where little discussion between us takes place...but amazingly he has finally relented to this exercise. I'm just hoping he likes the "Stonehenge" and "Big Bottom" sequences from "Spinal Tap" as much as I, and many many others, always have. And the ventriloquist hunter from North Carolina, and Parker Posey really in need for some Prozac from "Best in Show"...
I'm completely away from the home base this weekend, traveling up and down what seems like endless interstate miles, but actually it's just through the states of North and South Carolina, and Virginia. Some of the travels have been to catch up with friends, some of it has been to enjoy the holidays with the incredibly welcoming family members of friends. No matter the destination, though, it has not been without laughs nor in the lacking of good food: giving thanks for all that has been given me so far, and making me remember what is all too important to forget.
I leave you temporarily here with one of my favourite holiday show clips, and with one of my favourite holiday moments from my long-ago youth. Have a laugh with me...and then go get that additional 'small' slice of pumpkin pie we both know you've been craving. (Video from YouTube.)
The infamous "Turkeys Away" episode from the highly underrated and fantastic sitcom "WKRP in Cincinnati". Arguably one of the best shows on-air during its heyday, and this is arguably one of the funniest episodes they ever filmed. If you get a chance to see the whole episode...or, lucky you, the series...DO NOT pass up the opportunity. An unequalled show even now, and ace reporter 'Les Nessman' (portrayed by Richard Sanders) still has not been surpassed.
And a special note of love for 'Dr. Johnny Fever' (the blond, sunglass-wearing DJ trying to handle things from the booth in the above clip), played by Mr. Howard Hesseman himself: those of us you grew up listening to Don McCord on the radio thank him...and thank him very much...for his wonderful portrayal on "WKRP". Even though he did it in a very funny way, Hesseman honoured a great man now lost. And thanks for helping Janis, too.
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do... Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
1 Dec 2008 Honouring the lives of those who have passed in these past 27 years because of this horrible disease. The global population depends on us finding a cure.
