I Was Gonna Say Something
“True self-control is knowing you can and then deciding you won’t.”
But it just doesn’t seem right after I saw this quote.
Now, let me go watch America’s Last Model Chef Standing.
Friends are like bras; a good one never lets you down
“True self-control is knowing you can and then deciding you won’t.”
But it just doesn’t seem right after I saw this quote.
Now, let me go watch America’s Last Model Chef Standing.
How about something from Heart since Nancy is divorcing Cameron Crowe. Don’t even start me on the report I heard on the radio last night annoucing this. “When her and he announced…” okay, so I started. Seriously, this is what “journalism” has come to in this country?
Never. NEVER!
Growing up, there were all sorts of women’s voices coming out of the radio, but none were as strong as those of Ann and Nancy Wilson. Sure there were “Dreamboat Annie” and “Dog and Butterfly”, but there were also kick ass songs like “Barracuda”, “Kick It Out”, “Magic Man”, “Crazy On You”, “Heartless”, and “Straight On”. Those were songs you weren’t hearing from anyone else. The Wilson sisters stoked the flames of indepence in a young girl’s heart, even while allowing her to dream of the sweeter, more romantic side of life.
Thank God these ladies are still rockin’ it out. Where would we be without them?
Don’t know what went wrong between the Wilson-Crowes, but somehow or other, they’re gonna have to split everything up…they’re gonna have to even it out in divorce court.
Hey you! Yes, you, Nancy! Shine on.
We need one more, don’t we? Yeah. Can’t leave things so mellow. I mean, WTF is up with that?
And just because I’m feeling all churlish right now, here’s image you need to see. I’d post it outright, but I still can’t upload anything to this mutha flookin’ blog. I need to upgrade and I don’t know how. And I no longer have a friend who does that sort of thing. So, you get a link.
I don’t know how many items will be on this “list” and I won’t go back and count them afterward. I don’t care. Hence, the lack of numbering.
I got pissed off twice this weekend. Once due to a nimrod of a local musician calling me for another musician’s phone number. “I’m a friend of his. I have his number somewhere. I need to ask him…” The musician whose number he needed? Closely guarded. I have been entrusted with numbers and contact info a very special group of people. I respect their privacy and their time. I use the numbers sparingly and I never hand them out to other people. I protect these numbers and my friends’ privacy as I would my children. So, I tell Mr. Local Musician that I’ll see what I can do and call him back. I leave a voicemail, text, and then a second text with Mr. Local’s phone number for my friend. I call Mr. Local back and let him know that my friend is off playing a gig, he has the necessary info, and I’ve done all I feel comfortable doing. Mr. Local launches into a tirade about how I should just hand over the phone number and a bunch of other things. I say, if you need to get in touch with him sooner, try Facebook because he might check it during a break. “I don’t do Facebook!” Well, then, I guess you’ll have to wait for the guy to call you back, eh? And perhaps the next time you call you won’t get all pissy with me and hang up because, guess what? I will so not help in the future. Nor will I be nice when we meet again in public. (Stupid little oompa loompa mofo.)
Edited to remove this section upon request.
My new ringtone is “Blitzkrieg Bop”. I’m in a rebellious mood, I guess.
Every single time I grab my bottle of Ambien to take a dose, I basically dump the pills everywhere. Okay, so I managed to not do that ONCE…
For the first time in about 31 years, I could be fashionably on trend. The 70s are back (according to NY Fashion Week and Milan and London FW)! That means peasanty and colorful and all sorts of interesting things work, including (apparently) curled, feathered hair. Um, my summer trip to Portland yielded my first clothing purchase at a festival ever and it was a purple peasant blouse. Ahead of my time, people. Ahead of my time. And my hair? I have to curl it into submission because of the disastrous cut I got back in April. It’s pretty retro, which means it’s IN and I’m IN. Hahahahahaha! That’ll never happen again.
I like that new show Lone Star. The soundtrack from the first episode? Kind of awesome.
Little Dude and I had a couple fantastic chats this week. Mojo and I talked about a week or so ago. And I had a dream about her yesterday. It was both reassuring and disturbing.
I lost a business card I desperately need. If you were that business card, where would you be?
There was a big send off party for a local musician Saturday night. I was going to go for just a short time and ended up being one of the last to leave. The room was packed with so much talent, you never knew what was going to happen next! I met a couple of performers who have kind of been a big deal in my musical journey, so that freaked me out a bit, but I got over it.
Photo shoot of a 3 year old later today. I can’t wait! I’m hoping we can get her and the peacocks in this park in the same frame. How cute would that be?
Neighbor brought over his newborn the other day and he was a little fussy. I asked to hold the baby, calmed him down, and watched as he just took in the world. It was precious. It’s been so long since I had a baby fix, I wanted to cry. Made me remember my children as babies. God, they’re so not that little anymore!
I have a stack of music to review. And I may have something really special in relation to that happening very soon. Fingers crossed!
I have company coming into town this weekend. Can’t wait! And to top it off, another friend will be here, playing with Ray Manzarek of the Doors. Yep, my company and I will be there!
Lighting intrigues me. I’ve been trying to up my lighting game as far as photography goes and in some ways I’m so much better. In other ways, I’m totally lost.
My camera is really having major focusing issues. I thought it was okay after the fall it took a week or two ago and, nope. Not so much. I can’t afford to have it act up. I also can’t afford to send it in for a look-see on the bench either.
I’m desperately seeking quick jobs to earn enough money rescue my belongings in my storage unit. For the first time since moving, I’ve had a billing issue. Everything meaningful from my grandparents on down to my kids is in there. Everything. New management isn’t quite as helpful as I’d like. Know anyone who needs writing, editing, photography, babysitting, data entry, housecleaning, or anything else done in the next couple days? I will work 24 hours a day to get the money I need to keep my LIFE from being sold out from under me. If you do know of anyone who would be willing to hire me for something, leave me a comment and I will email you STAT.
I’ve been watching the Tim McCarver Show lately. Apparently I’m back into sports.
I broke my sunglasses. Not just popping a lens out or something simple. The whole hinge section snapped. I’m bummed.
I had frozen yogurt this weekend that was a ginger lemonade…and I kinda liked it.
Boobie-Thon 2010 is almost here!
…call you when you change your ringtone just to see you act like a kid on Christmas morning.
Guess where I went for these a few days ago?
G’on. Guess.
From Feb. 23, 2008:
“I’m Betty White, bitch,” as said by Betty White to Craig Ferguson. This just a few minutes after she claimed to be a drug mule.
She’s 86.
Betty’s a sassy dame. I love her!
Tonight:
talking about the new paparazzi laws, pretending she’s a celebrity photographer:
“If I’m busted under the new law I could spend a year in jail. I can’t go back there. I have a lot of enemies.”
I still love Betty White.
Doctor’s appointment #2 is under my belt. Yay.
Since the insurance company wouldn’t fill my prescription for Ambien last time, the doc filled it there. I’m no longer a car running on two rims and two new tires. I’m basically on four tires. All I need is the chassis (a bed).
My MRIs looked good and showed exactly what everyone suspected was happening: degeneration where expected, narrowing where expected, and now we play the wait and see game.
A request for PT has been made as has a recommendation that I be found a bed ASAP. Both were be fantastic, especially in combination.
I followed the appointment with a trip down to a friend’s house, two nice naps, a good prime rib dinner and key lime pie, and then I was sent on my way back home.
I’ve taken half an Ambien for now. I’ll take the other half just before I go to sleep. After that, it’s game on. Ambien does funny things to me. If you get goofy comments that don’t make sense (sdkfjhakdsfh asdfsj fa sadoifo pqopoi c 1oio vnbv iuh fsao sort of stuff), that’s the Ambien.
We start afresh in the morning.
I’ve seen Jimmy Thackery in concert several times now and I’m always amazed at the depth and breadth of his catalogue. He can be so very subtle and then he can slash and burn the land for miles around with just a few notes. He’s been doing this for how many years? I dunno. What I do know, though, is I hope he doesn’t think of retiring any time soon.
This first tune is dedicated to my friend, Curtis of the Stoney Curtis band, who also does a bang up version during his show.
And this tune? It’s beautifully heavy.
The other day I met this interesting older gentleman. He’s like a miniature version of Wilfred Brimley. I was talking with the owner of a tanning salon, talking about my day at the spa (my friend’s boyfriend treated us to massages and lunch), and a show I was going to shoot later that evening and Wilfred piped up, “oh, are you a photographer?” When I said yes, he got all excited. He’s a photographer, too. We started talking about photography and before you could say “boo”, we’d been yakking it up for 30 minutes.
I used my phone to show him a few of my photos and he was quite impressed. I was just grateful he didn’t laugh at my efforts. Then he asked if I’d be willing to show him how to use a digital camera. Of course I would!
I gave him my card and that was that.
Yesterday morning, he called. After I finished a shoot in the afternoon, I stopped by his home and he showed me his work. He’s an excellent photographer. I mean…EXCELLENT! He’s a marvelous artist as well. And his collection of other people’s work? Amazing. Simply amazing.
While I was there, he printed me a photo from his archives and matted/signed/framed it for me. Then he drew me a picture. Yep. He drew one for me right then and there. Actually, he drew two for me. Then I drew him one. He liked it, too. Good thing, cuz I’ve not done much drawing in a very long time, let alone draw while someone watched. I was quite nervous about it. Anyhow, I ended up leaving with two original pieces of art, left one behind, and we’re going out shooting today.
We had such a good time talking art and movies and travel and all that sort of stuff. It’s comforting to know I have a gallery/museum buddy and someone to go ‘splorin’ with. He’s an extraordinary gentleman and I like having a new friend. It’s kind of cool.
Yes, I am in a certain frame of mind.
I saw all this crap flowing through another website. Inferior images. “Products”. “Branding”.
Just because someone slaps the shit together and calls it “photography” doesn’t mean it’s something to get excited over.
Basic rules that should always be observed and are generally ignored:
If you’re a band, you deserve better. Even if someone offers you free half-assed images…you don’t have to use them. This goes for everyone – models, actors, comedians, business people, not just bands. If you’re looking to create a vibe, to brand, then either find someone better to photograph you for free, hire someone, or wait until you get better photos. A bad photo is worse than no photo.
If you’re looking to buy images to decorate your home, you deserve better. Seriously, just forget Aunt Emily’s pictures of the lemons with the stickers from the supermarket still on them and the hummingbird against the nice stucco wall. It ain’t art. It’s snapshots.
If you use someone’s work, credit them for it. If you do use someone else’s work, always ALWAYS give them credit. If the photos are bad, at least other people will know who NOT to hire.
I totally reserve the right to update this list as I see fit. And you can, too. Just add your two cents in the comments. I’d like to hear what advice/rules you have.
In case you’re wondering what brought this on, keep reading.
Here’s what started the whole thing.
“Hey, check out this guys’ site. he went to the [venue xyz] on sat. and took some shots of us. also some video of [artist pdq] if you wanna check it out. most of it being a classic [some band] song called ‘[something something something]’ it’s fun listening to classic [specific genre] lyrics over a bluesy arrangement anyway, there’s that and [our website] is up and running. we’re becoming a little more legit everyday i guess”
My response:
“I need to get out there and shoot you guys. As I said on FB, you deserve better. I’d looked at a link you posted yesterday or the day before or whatever and…my heart kind of fell. There’s no heart there, man. Nothing. Find me a couch to sleep on and buy me dinner, gimme a few bucks for gas, and photos are a done deal. Seriously. You know I know what I’m talking about and you know I can make you look good.
I know you’re anxious to get stuff online, but bad photos are worse than no photos. I watch bands, business people, actors, comedians, etc. use photos taken by Uncle Mike or their best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s former girlfriend they kinda hope to bang and it’s just not worth it. Really, when you can have great photos for basically nothin’…don’t cheap out. Or at least don’t settle for crap that someone took and is calling art. You’re worth more than that.
/rant.
Sorry. Don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, I’m just tellin’ you like I see it. You guys have a lot going for you. Don’t settle for pics (yeah, pics…not photos…) that had to be converted to B&W because the color was shitty. Or photos that lack heart. Or photos that have absolutely no movement or emotion to them.
Aim higher, dude.
Love ya”
Bitter and bitchy, yes, I believe my name has been called. Thank God my friend appreciates my candor…even to the point of not being offended when I called the band out in a review of their CD. I’ve just never understood the rush to put inferior crap out there just to have something out there, you know?
Oy.
Men, why are you so complicated?
Since when has it ever been a good thing to jump into a relationship with someone you don’t know?
Since when are you supposed to abandon all common sense and rush into something?
Never. That’s right. NEVER.
So how do you explain that to someone who is intent on rushing? I’ve said, “this isn’t a race. I enjoy spending time with you and it’s fun. I like getting to know you, but I don’t want a ‘relationship’ at this point. I want to find out who you are and what you’re about before I throw the door open and welcome you into my life any further.” Or something like that. In other words, I’ve said “I’m not looking for a boyfriend or anything serious right now. Slow down.”
And this…this is the guy who freaked out after we had one dinner and a movie and couldn’t handle “where this might lead.” Two days after we had said dinner and movie. Then he turned around within two hours and was all “I miss you!” “When do I get to see you again?” I did see him again and told him “this is cute once. Twice? It’s a little neurotic. Three times? Insane and I run away…if I haven’t already after the second time. SLOW DOWN, cowboy.” So, of course there was a second time and of course he sort of freaked out. And he wonders why I’m reluctant to spend time with him? Uh…call the Hardy Boys. They’re good at solving mysteries, my friend.
I don’t understand men, obviously. If I were looking for a relationship, I can guaran-damn-tee you I’d find no one. But now that I don’t want one, men are freaking out because I don’t. WTF? Why can’t we just hang out and have a few laughs? Why can’t we just chill?
Really, the last thing I want is to rush into something with someone I don’t know and then find out I don’t even really like who he is. It ends up with everyone getting hurt. Been there, done that. I don’t want to be hurt and I don’t want him to be hurt either. I think that’s the only decent way to approach dating anymore.
What’s up, guys? Why are you so complicated?
(Note: Should I continue my Two-fers here? Or should I just keep posting them on the new-ish blog? Put your thinking caps on and gimme a shout in the comments section to let me know what you think.)
Back in 1980 or 81, my boyfriend and I were cruising Sears (or KMart), making our favorite stop at the bargain tape bin (tapes were what we crazy kids listened to back then when we weren’t hauling out the vinyl). Our prize discovery of the day was Cognac & Bologna by Doug & the Slugs. I fell in love with the band instantly.
A little quirky, but a whole lotta great hook-laden music poured forth from the speakers for the next year or two, which was quite a feat back then because most tapes had a shelf-life of six months or so. Anyhow, I’ve never forgotten the band.
Lead singer Doug Bennett died in 2004, leaving Canada and the rest of the world a little poorer without him. Just listen to his opening comments on the following tune. And seriously? Who else could get away with a song called “Chinatown Calculation”? Who wouldn’t love a guy like that?
( – Doug & the Slugs, “Chinatown Calculation”)
You may recognize the song in this last video as the theme song from the Norm Show. What? I was the only one watching? C’mon, admit it…you watched, too.
(thecatkeaton – Doug & the Slugs, “Too Bad”)
Some mysteries are easily solved with a decoder ring or by a couple of inquisitive teens. Others require a spy of the highest caliber, the kind without a name. And still more so complex that a bevy of Hollywood writers take years to unravel and ravel and unravel and ravel and unravel the story.
I’m sitting atop a bit of mystery here.
Around the corner and across the street is a white house. It intrigues me and MOBD a great deal. It’s been empty since I moved in. It’s been empty for months prior to my moving here. With the market the way it’s been, it’s no wonder that it’s remained empty. It’s a pretty good sized lot, too. Horse property. 2.2 acres. White adobe. Hacienda style. Square. All rectangular/square windows save one round stained glass window on the south side. Two stories. 2,400 sq. feet.
A realtor friend looked up the property. It sold a few years ago for almost $2million. Foreclosure a year or two later. On the market again this past year for under $300k. Foreclosure in less than two months. That was back in December. Empty ever since.
Yesterday there were trashcans out in front for the second time since I’ve moved here. Looks like the bank is getting ready to put the house back on the market so they’re cleaning up. We’ve never seen anyone there. No people. No cars. Nothing.
MOBD and I decided to walk over last night. We walked past a neighbor’s house and heard all these birds. What a racket! Every once in a while, we hear them really raising a fuss. As we got closer to the mystery house, we heard the birds again, but the sound isn’t coming from where we thought. Now it’s coming from back behind the white house or maybe from the pinkish house. WTF?
We step onto the property and start circling the house. Roll up door on the front room. A three car garage that’s pretty much impossible to put a car into or drive out of unless it’s half a Mini. The 3 bay garage is just too close to the house and the roll up door on the front room. Around back, there’s another roll up door on the house, but it’s too small for a car. Hmmm, what could it be for?
The stables out back look sturdy enough. The extra building has some gear stored there. We start walking toward the stables and the bird noises get louder. Sure as shit, there’s cage after cage after cage of birds. Mostly parrots from what we can see. Not exactly great conditions for birds as far as shelter…open sided…no air conditioners, no fans, no heater elements either. Nobody in the house. Not for months. And yet there are birds there. Alive and seemingly healthy.
Obviously someone’s coming by daily to feed and water and otherwise tend to them. How come we never see anyone? And why would there still be birds there if nobody lives in the foreclosed house? MOBD says he’s always heard the birds and he’s been here three years. WTF?
On our way back home, we check the trashcans. Mostly debris from the cages and some yard detritus.
Maybe a neighbor? Maybe someone from the pink house is leasing the stables to house the birds. It’s convenient. It makes sense. But…it still doesn’t quite seem right. There isn’t another neighbor around who’d be doing this. The only other house within an easy walk is empty. Another foreclosure. Huge. Almost 4,000 sq ft. The bank is asking close to $600k for it. (Realtor friend info again.)
But the birds. To whom do they belong? And why do we never see anyone over there? And when is the house going on the market? How much will the bank be asking for it?
The way we see it, if the bank is asking anything under $200k, MOBD will put in a bid. Anything more than that, we’ll just wait until it’s sold, the new people move in, and then we befriend them…and get answers to our birdly questions and we get in to see the house since it’s driving us bonkers. Plus, we want to check out those garages.
For now, we wait. We’ll probably walk over every day until we get some sort of satisfactory answers.
We’re weird, huh?
Do you remember? I do.
Do you still feel the same shock when you think back on what happened nine years ago today? I do.
We can never forget how that felt. We can never forget how we turned to one another for comfort and strength, as neighbors, as a community, as a nation. For all our imperfections, we are still strong and still ONE NATION. Thank God for that.
May we find peace and understanding somewhere along the way.
I’ve not included this song in the last couple of years, but the time seems right to bring it back again. The lyrics have struck me in their prescience. I’ve come to the conclusion that some events are inevitable, or at least some of the imagery is always going to be familiar. It’s a sad way to reconcile such things, but musically and lyrically, it’s the only way to make it fit.
So you speak to me of sadness
And the coming of the winter
Fear that is within you now
It seems to never end
And the dreams that have escaped you
And the hope that you’ve forgotten
You tell me that you need me now
You want to be my friend
And you wonder where we’re going
Where’s the rhyme and where’s the reason
And it’s you cannot accept
It is here we must begin
To seek the wisdom of the children
And the graceful way of flowers in the wind
For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day
Like the music of the mountains
And the colours of the rainbow
They’re a promise of the future
And a blessing for today
Though the cities start to crumble
And the towers fall around us
The sun is slowly fading
And it’s colder than the sea
It is written from the desert
To the mountains they shall lead us
By the hand and by the heart
They will comfort you and me
In their innocence and trusting
They will teach us to be free
For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day
And the song that I am singing
Is a prayer to non believers
Come and stand beside us
We can find a better way
And one of my new favorite songs, which was written specifically in remembrance of those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001, is from Tony “The Fretless Monster” Franklin. The song is ” Be The Same“. The story behind “Never Be The Same” is also available on Tony’s Myspace blog.
Peace to all.