Thank the heavens it's the weekend. And thank the heavens, too...for (finally!) Spring is coming. (And, in comparison to most, I have absolutely no reason at all to complain about our winter. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure I've earned my PhD in Complaining now. So why let great life experience go to waste??)
That said, I'm taking a quick moment to update several things of interest on the 'to do' calendar (in general for right now):
Today, April 6th:
For the NCAA basketball fans out there (go Wichita State! my underdog love goes unchecked still), Southern Rail in Carrboro is having a viewing party (both for the semis today and the actual final game on Monday). Free admission, but I recommend dining/beers there any time.
And, for something completely new to my experience: The Vaudevillain Revue - U.S.Oh!is on over at Motorco tonight. Promises to have "...live music, burlesque, comedy, circus arts, and general shenanigans...". (Seriously, now, who doesn't like 'general shenanigans'? Not love them, even?) Doors open at 9pm, $10 tix now (plus Eventbrite charges, I think, unless bought in advance or at Motorco proper). Facebook page updates here.
Tomorrow, April 7th:
For the college baseball fans out there, UNC, the No. 1 ranked college mens' baseball team, has a home stand weekend (Friday-Sunday) battle versus Maryland. Tickets are very affordable ($7-$10), and Sunday's game has a 1pm start time. Home games are at Boshamer Stadium, and save $5 back for approved parking (nearby parking decks).
And the aforementioned Motorco is hosting a "Mad Men" premiere party tomorrow night. Free admission, on the jumbo megatron. Starts at 8pm, but arrive early enough to drink and fix your hair.
Monday, April 8th:
In what could be a problematic attention-divided night for me should Wichita State (hopefully) advance to the NCAA Championship Game, Monday is the Season Home Opener for the Durham Bulls. Tickets are still available as I write this, but generally this frequently sells out...so act quickly. (Not to mention, it's predicted to be in the low to mid 70s at first pitch. Ahh, spring.) **First pitch is at 605pm this year**, but allow some time (and a few bucks) for traffic parking in advance.
As mentioned above, Southern Rail will also be showing the NCAA Mens' Final game. (Complete with, I'm sure, the irritating send-off that CBS always does yearly with their "One Shining Moment" segment. Even though I'll be watching the Bulls start, I always hate to see college basketball end.)
And the wonderful folks with Band Together have a *huge* event booked for May 4th and are seeking volunteers to help out. Volunteer meeting is Monday, April 8th, 6pm, at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh...details found here. Their May 4th fundraiser will be at Cary’s Booth Amphitheater and has Lyle Lovett, Delta Rae, Chatham County Line, and the Mac and Juice Quartet on the bill. Proceeds will aid the Tammy Lynn Center for Developmental Disabilities, with a goal of $850,000. Tix start at $34.50 (plus fees, advance) for the lawn and are on sale now. If you can't volunteer to help on the 4th, come out to the show!
Days in between:
Several things that involve me working, or exercising, or daydreaming, or all of the above, in here and that's not very exciting stuff, so I'll spare you. Unless I win the lottery and then I'll update y'all before I leave from the international terminal.
Friday, April 12th:
Unfortunately, these two cannot be combined, and both are scheduled at the wonderful Carolina Theatre in Durham: In one area, starting at 8pm, it's the Classic Albums Live series, this time with Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" in its entirety, plus some other Floyd gems afterwards. Tix are $29-$39, and they do serve some tasty brews from their concession stand (which is not totally appropriate for this album, I agree, but proper stuffs are not legal in this state). Up in the movie house at the Carolina, their Retroclassics Film Series has a doubleheader of "The Mummy" & "The Invisible Man" (yes, the originals...with Boris Karloff and Claude Rains!). This monster tour-de-fierce starts at 7pm, and I think tix hold strong at $8 for both...and I cannot stress this enough...**get your tickets in advance if possible and get there early for both a good seat and tasty concessions**. Several of these Retro series' movies have sold out/almost sold out this season. (Kudos to Jim and his great staff for bringing all their different Series to us, by the way.) I still hold out hope for the classic "Wizard of Oz" film and this Floyd audio pairing someday in a proper theatre, though.
And while I adore Floyd and Boris and Claude (and Jim & his people!), I'm heading over to Raleigh instead for something even rarer: to watch a restored print of Mary Pickford's "Dorothy Verndon of Haddon Hall" from 1924. And thankfully, it will feature live piano accompaniment (amazingly, I've been to some silents that didn't...and it's damn trying in that format). Starting at 8pm, this is an one-time only show at the North Carolina Museum of Art. Tickets are $5-$7 (plus fees), and can be purchased online. I do so have a weakness for the silent movies, and many are lost gems. Hopefully, the original "America's Sweetheart" won't disappoint.
And hopefully, unlike my sad display here, your photos will also get better once the coffee is actually consumed. Kickstart my brain functions, please. @ Caribou Coffee, 4/2013.
Contrary to popular reports otherwise, Spring is indeed on its way. And I saw signs of it today while driving west on I-40, returning from a visit to Carolina Beach, NC. @ about Wallace, NC.
For those of us who have been waiting for a long time now for something featuring the greatness of Queen in an advert, consider your prayers answered (or at least acknowledged). Well done, Cosmopolitan.
However, I keep hoping for something with kids and "Bicycle Race", or a plus size clothing models paired with (a personal fave) "Fat Bottomed Girls". Thankfully for us all, though, I'm not in advertising.
Locals: in case you haven't heard the news, the uber-fabulous comedian Lewis Black will be performing this Friday, March 23, at Memorial Hall on the University of North Carolina's campus in Chapel Hill. "Lewis Black & Friends" is scheduled to start at 7pm. Also featuring Kathleen Madigan and Jon Friedman. Tickets for the general public are $20.00 each, and for UNC students with proper id $10.00 each. Even though this show is scheduled to take place while the UNC Mens' basketball team is playing against Ohio in the NCAA Sweet Sixteen brackets, it's also pretty certain that this show will be a sellout...get your tickets early. Click through on the link to purchase tickets: http://memorialhall.unc.edu/
Also, a head's up: due to several construction projects going on in downtown Chapel Hill, choose your parking early and wisely. If planning to also have dinner in the downtown area before the show, make sure you have reservations (if applicable) and/or can get out of your restaurant easily. With all the basketball-loving and TV-watching sports fans in town, The Game will trump all others in priority. Plan accordingly to arrive early, as traffic in and around Chapel Hill may be very heavy prior to game time.
It's been a bit of a day, truth be told. What started out as a usual Tuesday ended up with a bit of worry about an approaching hurricane including thoughts about renters' flood insurance and worries about exploding beer in my brew room. That and I experienced my first earthquake (which apparently was an experience shared with most of the East coast).
The earthquake, I admit, was surprising as hell, because we aren't supposed to get those kinds of phenomenon here. Earthquakes, raging wildfires, mudslides, El Nino sandstorms...those are the kinds of things we have gladly surrendered to our cousins out West. In exchange, they get that expansive Pacific Ocean to gaze at, their news programming on a delay, and some spectacular scenery along the Pacific Coast Highway. We get snow and wicked nor'easters up in the North, and mosquitoes the size of small toddlers down here in the South. Trust me, we always knew the Western cousins weren't really getting the better end of the deal.
This afternoon, though, I was at work, explaining an online computer project when what I thought was a strong breeze pulled at the edge of our roof line soffitt, or so I thought...so much so, that I actually ventured outdoors to check out the roof. Simultaneously, another co-worker three doors down from me experienced the same sensation and began to think her walls suddenly shifted inward. And yet another co-worker four doors from me thought the building had been hit by a runaway dump truck. Weird, very weird...same earthquake, but three completely different theories to its sensation. And we were all trying to find proof to support our hypotheses.
Upon reading these thoughts now, though, clearly they were all pretty damn implausible to happen in broad daylight. However, if you had told us that it was an earthquake that hit our company instead, to a person we would have laughed you out of our roof damaged, wall enclosing, dump truck damaged home away from home. Some things you can't really believe happened unless you experience it yourself; and sometimes you still don't readily believe the truth when revealed. The rest of this afternoon's conversations was spent on validating and reassuring each others' reactions...and damn it, the tremor itself only lasted 10 seconds.
That drama subsided for now, the focus for the next few days turns to the 'impending' landfall of Hurricane Irene onto the Eastern seaboard shores. It's Tuesday as I write this; landfall is expected sometime over the weekend...if it happens at all. Apparently, as every weather forecaster from here to DC and back down to Georgia reminds us, determining the actual landfall strike zone area is a far less accurate science than predicting where a spinning top will come to rest. However, some islands in NC are starting evacuation tomorrow morning...not so much because everyone is sure of Irene's path, but because it takes 2 days' time to get these folks off those islands (have to use ferries, one lane roads, etc). These remote island getaways in NC are 'remote' for a reason...and nothing about them, under the current conditions anyway, screams 'quick evacuation'.
The North Carolina Governor, Beverly Purdue, has made the traditional flip-sided appealof both being prepared, but also not getting too worked up about this early forecast, either. And in a telling nod to our tourism economy, she used her famous 'school librarian with chocolate chip cookie'-like tones to also not discourage potential visitors to come into the state these last few days of the official summer travel season. I honestly cannot remember her ever doing so in any potential weather event in the past, but then again tourism is one of our main industries...and we need to keep everybody employed in it as long as we can. So actually we're now (1) getting prepared (and in some places, evacuating), (2) not worrying about getting prepared, but (3) still inviting folks on in to come join in the fun. Bad news is we take Southern hospitality seriously here all the time, and that tradition is always the high card, and so it effectively cancels out (2) and (3) above. After all, somebody has to worry about the barbecue, biscuits, and greens, damn it. I just hope that the Gov and all the weather geek forecaster types are correct in predicting that Irene's gonna continue to head out east, and maybe not even come ashore at all...otherwise, we may have a lot of hurricane newbies sweatin' it out. And that, except for the alcohol consumed at the hurricane parties, does not make for a good vacay.
With all respect to Gov Chocolate Chip and her advisers, though, I've decided to follow the slightly more universal emergency prep method: I'm going with the guidelines set forth by the CDC earlier this year...in case of a zombie apocalypse. (And, yes, this is from the real CDC. Humour while educating, what a freakin' concept that's so rarely deployed. Kudos to the authors for making it an internet sensation that many of us, like me, remember to reference in a time of need.) I figure if my beloved Federal government is already this forward thinking, most everything I would need to do for a simple hurricane should be covered in this cheat sheet. (Except a chainsaw, which got omitted from their list somehow...one really does need a chainsaw in both hurricane clean-up and zombie survival. And gloves, really thick and sturdy and bite-proof gloves.)
With that said, I'm off now to the Kroger/Piggly Wiggly/Food Lion/Lowes (I don't shop Harris Teeter, sorry) to stock up on recently marked up hurricane 'foodstuffs'. I'm going to fight off other tourism-defenders who are willing to take a chance their milk won't sour after we lose electricity in Irene's aftermath. Maybe I should get the gloves first??
Some days, I consider myself the luckiest person I know. I have a dependable job, great friends, positive things I'm working toward, and a devoted group of family (some related by blood, some otherwise, but family to me still the same). But, as we can do from time to time, I get in so much of a rush doing my daily 'to do' list that I miss the important stuff...the stuff that makes me re-think all of those 'must do priorities' lists.
This morning, a profound example: got up late after hitting the snooze button on the alarm no less than three times, hurriedly got prepped and dressed for the day ahead. Couldn't immediately find something I needed for the 'to do' list, so five minutes semi-frantically looking for a paper which ended up by my keys (put there last night, I remembered, so I wouldn't be looking for it today...oi vey). Grabbed my lunch, fixed my lipstick, flung open the door to my covered porch entrance...
and had to stop and just watch as my vegetarian neighbours, complete with their ever-growing brood of offspring, decided to come over for an impromptu brekkie. Some of the kids pranced around and played tag with one another, whereas Mum and Dad just munched selectively on some of our wild strawberries. And time just stood still, as if the only thing that mattered to each was just being around the others. A moment of Nature's Zen, and delivered at just the right time.
And honestly, not only did I completely forget for a few minutes about what all my priorities were, but I also came away wondering if I really wanted to go into work today at all. These ten minutes of peace were the absolute best moments of my day.
For almost two years now, I have been posting on a private blog instead of this one. And while that has worked okay for me, it has essentially become an glorified diary and not a very fulfilling writing and/or blogging experience. And this unfortunate blog just languished during that time, as it was out of sight and out of mind.
After an accidental reminder this week, I came back and looked at this one again and realized that (a) it needs a lot of work, but which I'm enthused about tackling, and (b) I really missed blogging to this one. And I've decided: it's time to come back home.
So as I close the other one down, do some much-needed editing, and then move some older posts from the private blog to over here, please forgive me in the days (or more probably, weeks) to come.
Today, fittingly enough as I turned into the drive coming home, my old girl turned 250,000 miles.
And, like anyone who has de-stressed in, cursed in, shivered in, sweated in, ate in, drank in, seat-danced and sang in their vehicle...and, on more than one occasion, prayed *over* same...I am so ever the happy owner. Even if I do take rentals now instead for my out-of-state trips (the newer cars make better gas mileage), I still would not trade my girl in for anything. Sitting by the row of mailboxes that flank our entrance, I actually turned off the engine and petted Her steering wheel with deep affection, whispering sweet words of praise into the really-needs-to-be-vacuumed upholstery. I even got out and took pictures, I was so proud (honestly, you parents of rising first graders have nothing on me).
To the unwitting passerby, I'm sure I appeared as either somebody documenting some sort of accident (at best), or (at worst) someone saying my last heartfelt goodbye to a very dusty Nissan truck. But to those of you fellow owners of older vehicles who have been everywhere in them practically (and in my case, also served as my abode for a brief period of time), you'd recognize me instantly: I no longer see any flaws, but instead the character of every hard-earned dent, scrape, and ding the way. My mighty girl is missing a chunk of Her grill, has rust advancing steadily around Her seams, and makes an abnormally loud clatter when sitting idle with the A/C in use. But to me, though...the me that has known and drove Her since mile 18...right now, she's the prettiest girl on the road.
For that distinction alone, and also in recognition of this milestone, we have a goal in the next few days: a bumper to bumper detailing, complete with wash and wax. And I will not complain once about the cost nor the time needed for service.
There's a wonderful project that I've recently (like, this weekend recently) joined up with...something that seems like a perfect fit for me as I'm coming back into the blogging world and want to chronicle the changes I've been through recently. This campaign of self-discovery is called Reverb 10, and additional details can be found here. You can still participate, and it's free to join! (Hat tip to writer Patti Digh and her wonderful blog, 37 Days, for the suggestion.)
And despite the obvious benefits for me and my writing goals, this process also encourages me (and hopefully my wonderful readers and friends, by extension) to do some real personal cataloging and think about where I am in life now, where I've been, and where I'm hoping to be in the new year to come.
The Reverb 10 process is a series of daily prompts of questions to think and write about, a different one for each day in the month of December. And while I'm unfortunately late to the party in joining up, I plan to do all the days I've missed...two or three at a time...until I've finally caught up. I'm really looking forward to completing this, as well as reading others' contributions.
December 1 - One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
2010 word: Stuck. 2011 word: Decluttered.
I choose the word 'stuck' for 2010 because, frankly, that's exactly where I think I am/was most of this year (which is really rather quite humbling to admit, let alone write). I always pride myself on having new adventures and trying to advance my horizons, but the 'new' things have been very temporarily adored this year and the 'old' things just aren't getting it done any more. I'm restless, unsatisfied, and lacking focus...not anxious, not depressed, just suffering a rather long-lingering case of clinical 'whatever'.
To compound this problem a bit, I'm also having a bit of a problem letting go of the 'old', non-working things from my life. For example: I'm not happy with my book selection any more, yet I find it difficult to part with same because I really liked that book once, or I remember buying that book with a friend on a really good day...ad nauseum. The rational side to me knows this 'debate' absolutely makes no sense, but the emotional side to me (also known recently as 'the bored side') is not quite yet ready to surrender.
I could have used the word 'quicksand', I suppose, but that's far too extreme to describe most days and it's not like I feel any rapidly increasing sinking feeling. And, on the flip side, I could have taken the easy way out and just used the word 'bored', but that is far too light of what's gone on for months now. Quicksand implies an emergency state...something that requires immediate outside assistance from a heroic third party to come save my day. Boredom to me, though, is something fleeting...something I should be able to relieve with a good book or movie. 'Should be able to' being the most important words in that last sentence.
That being said, 'stuck' is the most appropriate word for my current year: I increasingly feel the weight of it all holding me in place, with far too many useless items still surrounding me.
Howdy folks!! After a very, very, very long time away from writing and contributing here, I've come back to the blog.
Since I've been away, I've been writing a lot privately in journals and such offline, but am now finding myself in a more 'open' mindset so that I don't mind sharing my personal journey/daily mishaps once more in this format. As I've experienced firsthand, sometimes when one seeks clarity one has to declutter a lot of their mental 'baggage' in the process... so much baggage, in fact, that should have been dealt with ages ago. In this past year, I've shed a lot of that extra mental weight and worry through private journaling...and that has made a great, and very, positive change to my outlook and goals.
I'll be honest: I've missed the whole blogging experience, and I appreciate my friends and others who have kept in touch with me while I've stepped back. In time, I hope to bring over and include some of the journal entries I've done for the past (well, really, two) years.
Many, many thanks to my dear friends and fellow writers/bloggers who have been so supportive of me, and especially for their kind, and rather persistent, words of encouragement.
Like so many people, I've been reading (at least as much as my stomach can take anyway as my capacity for 'bad news' is easily overwhelmed these days) about what it might take to get us out of this economic mudslide...and specifically what the 'new world' after this will look like. Luckily, I am (and hopefully will continue to be) employed; however, it's beyond stupid from a consumer view, as well as a forward-thinking employee view, to not try and prepare for the path ahead. So these are the kinds of questions I've been asking:
What industries do we know for certain are gone (or at least on life support)?
What careers and employees will still be around looking for jobs, but the jobs have been permanently downsized, sent overseas, etc?
What fields and/or jobs will be in demand once this recovery really takes hold?
What can towns and cities start doing now to attract those new careers and technologies of the future?
These are the kind of questions I've asked at some recent professional development/networking meetings as of late...and sadly, no one seems to know the answers. Not in my professional online forums, not in meeting with some local university career counselors, not even at my local Chamber of Commerce networking functions. I'm not exaggerating to say that the majority of what I've read/heard has a good deal of 'mental panic' associated with it...i.e., that no one is looking forward to what the future holds because the present situation is so damn scary. That's a perfectly legitimate response to a point...the point when one realizes that a lack of strategic planning for the future back then is a good chunk of how we got in the quagmire we are in now.
I'm still looking for some answers (and am always open to suggestions from others, so please don't hesitate to let me know yours), but I'll bring you a couple of two differing views I've found:
James Fallows' optimistic, but still slightly guarded piece, from the January/February 2010 issue of The Atlantic: "How America Can Rise Again"
Reality bites, even if we sugar-coat it, sell it en mass on late night television, and put it on the 30-year installment pay plan. Call me a sadist if you will, but I'd rather like to take my dose of medicine now and start the healing process so hopefully I won't have to suffer through this affliction again. The world of yesterday we knew so well has forever been changed...let us learn from those lessons as we try to navigate toward the world of tomorrow.
And let us all learn to be a bit more pro-active, and less like sheep, as we move forward, too.
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.
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.
