As a reward for losing 50 pounds, I treated myself today to a good manicure and pedicure, and also to Raul Malo's new CD, "You're Only Lonely" (cover songs). Yes, Raul will be singing me to sleep tonight and I can't wait to hear this CD.
I bought it from a local music store. I love our local stores -- they are fantastic! This one in particular (Earshot) has just about everything you're looking for (and if they don't have it, chances are the other store will). I came this-close to going to a big box store to get the CD. And yes, I'd probably have saved myself about $10 overall on my purchase. But considering the community very nearly lost this store a couple of years back, I want to support it. The other store -- well, I pop in there on occasion too. But the last time I was there, I spent over an hour browsing and didn't see anything that struck my fancy. Earshot carries both well-known and obscure artists; this other store tends to specialize in the obscure. Now, I love the obscure as much as anyone, but there are times when I want something more well-known. That's when I head to Earshot, or the big-box stores.
Both stores, to their great credit, are extremely supportive of live local music. Now, I'm not much into the concert or music scene like I used to be. But I still believe a strong local music scene only enriches the community. So I am glad that these two stores promote and support the venues and artists who are out there!
So anyway -- my hands and feet look fantastic, and my ears will be all happy tonight. WOO HOO!!!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
You know it's a good day when
... on your drive into work, you hear "Dixie Chicken" and "Moondance" -- I mean, honestly! Little Feat and Van Morrison -- as the Old Milwaukee commercials from the 70s said, "Boys, it don't git no better than this!!!" And also when you hear an old favorite that rarely gets played, and it brings back memories both wonderful and wistful.
... your pants don't fit -- but it's because there's too much material and not enough you anymore. 45 and counting, bebes. I'm so pumped about that, I don't know what to do!
... you get a few minutes alone (besides your commute) and it's one of the most precious gifts of the day. I know my solitude will be coming to an abrupt halt in 20 minutes or less, so I am going to relish every second of it.
... all your customers are at the ready with the check number of the payment they just mailed yesterday..... oh wait. That falls under pipe dream. Sorry about that.
... you enjoy a good laugh, or give someone else a good laugh.
... you can remember to post this all!!
... your pants don't fit -- but it's because there's too much material and not enough you anymore. 45 and counting, bebes. I'm so pumped about that, I don't know what to do!
... you get a few minutes alone (besides your commute) and it's one of the most precious gifts of the day. I know my solitude will be coming to an abrupt halt in 20 minutes or less, so I am going to relish every second of it.
... all your customers are at the ready with the check number of the payment they just mailed yesterday..... oh wait. That falls under pipe dream. Sorry about that.
... you enjoy a good laugh, or give someone else a good laugh.
... you can remember to post this all!!
Monday, September 25, 2006
The long and winding road...
always leads me to deep thought. And luckily, nearly 9 hours of not-too-long and not-so-winding road this weekend was plenty to allow for quite a number of meanderings and musings.
I thought about the past --- mostly trying to answer the question: "If I could go back and say something to my 14-year-old self (when I was a freshman), what would I say?" Well, first would be to lighten the hell up! Next would be to lighten the hell up! And then to lighten the hell up! Yes, I was Miss Serious, where my world revolved around my studies and extracurricular activities. Think Tracy Flick from Election, only I didn't sleep with any of my teachers. In the years hence, all that activity amounted to jackcrap; it looked good on my college application, and that's as far as it went. I haven't done a damn thing with the 5 math credits I struggled to earn (and believe me, I might have been in AP math but it was a mountain to climb). I loved literature with all my heart, but I don't purposely dissect stories or poetry anymore. The graphic design skills I used on yearbook staff are the ONLY thing I did in high school that has remotely carried over to my adult life.
Then again ..... I think I wouldn't go back at all, even given the opportunity. You know -- that whole space-time continuum thing Doc Brown warned about. If I changed even one thing, it would disrupt my life in the present, and quite possibly in a way that I wouldn't enjoy. So best to leave things as they are and enjoy the valuable lessons learned, especially those learned the hard way.
All that being said, it reminds me that within a year, they'll be planning the 20-Year Reunion. Oh God, please, in Your great mercy, make sure it's a good one. No lame-o stuff, or I will develop a bad case of anal glaucoma -- meaning I can't see my @$$ going to it. I know You understand where I'm coming from......
***
I also did some thinking about some things from my adult life. In particular, I thought about two important events of my adult life that changed my whole perception of life itself.
The first situation was when someone ripped out my heart and walked all over it. I have come to realize that I share in the blame of the first situation .... but not for the reasons originally given to me by the Heartwalker. No, my share of the blame was there from the onset. It came from not being true to myself, and for stifling the me that I had discovered and grown to love in my college days. I sacrificed that wonderful person for someone who never would have appreciated or even understood her. It has taken some time, but I have forgiven myself for that.
Most importantly, that event taught me to say "never again!" When I was betrayed by another supposed friend, I was able to stand up and declare "NO! I said never again, and I mean it!" I could not have survived the second without having survived and thrived after the first incident. I had to rebuild my entire life, my whole foundation of who I was, what I thought, what I held to be real and true, and what could be discarded. As a result, I have come to know myself again and love myself much more than I ever dreamed.
Both incidents -- horrible as they were at the time -- have served to make me even more resilient. They have made me more open-minded and open-hearted than I would have ever dreamed. I think of it as giving up the trinkets that you are clinging desperately to -- so that God/the Universe/whatever can give you real treasure far more abundant than you could ever imagine. I am absolutely astounded when I think of all the laughter, love and life I have experienced and shared in all the past few years, that I would have missed out on had things turned out the way I thought they should have.
Sometimes I really do thank God for unanswered prayers.....
I thought about the past --- mostly trying to answer the question: "If I could go back and say something to my 14-year-old self (when I was a freshman), what would I say?" Well, first would be to lighten the hell up! Next would be to lighten the hell up! And then to lighten the hell up! Yes, I was Miss Serious, where my world revolved around my studies and extracurricular activities. Think Tracy Flick from Election, only I didn't sleep with any of my teachers. In the years hence, all that activity amounted to jackcrap; it looked good on my college application, and that's as far as it went. I haven't done a damn thing with the 5 math credits I struggled to earn (and believe me, I might have been in AP math but it was a mountain to climb). I loved literature with all my heart, but I don't purposely dissect stories or poetry anymore. The graphic design skills I used on yearbook staff are the ONLY thing I did in high school that has remotely carried over to my adult life.
Then again ..... I think I wouldn't go back at all, even given the opportunity. You know -- that whole space-time continuum thing Doc Brown warned about. If I changed even one thing, it would disrupt my life in the present, and quite possibly in a way that I wouldn't enjoy. So best to leave things as they are and enjoy the valuable lessons learned, especially those learned the hard way.
All that being said, it reminds me that within a year, they'll be planning the 20-Year Reunion. Oh God, please, in Your great mercy, make sure it's a good one. No lame-o stuff, or I will develop a bad case of anal glaucoma -- meaning I can't see my @$$ going to it. I know You understand where I'm coming from......
***
I also did some thinking about some things from my adult life. In particular, I thought about two important events of my adult life that changed my whole perception of life itself.
The first situation was when someone ripped out my heart and walked all over it. I have come to realize that I share in the blame of the first situation .... but not for the reasons originally given to me by the Heartwalker. No, my share of the blame was there from the onset. It came from not being true to myself, and for stifling the me that I had discovered and grown to love in my college days. I sacrificed that wonderful person for someone who never would have appreciated or even understood her. It has taken some time, but I have forgiven myself for that.
Most importantly, that event taught me to say "never again!" When I was betrayed by another supposed friend, I was able to stand up and declare "NO! I said never again, and I mean it!" I could not have survived the second without having survived and thrived after the first incident. I had to rebuild my entire life, my whole foundation of who I was, what I thought, what I held to be real and true, and what could be discarded. As a result, I have come to know myself again and love myself much more than I ever dreamed.
Both incidents -- horrible as they were at the time -- have served to make me even more resilient. They have made me more open-minded and open-hearted than I would have ever dreamed. I think of it as giving up the trinkets that you are clinging desperately to -- so that God/the Universe/whatever can give you real treasure far more abundant than you could ever imagine. I am absolutely astounded when I think of all the laughter, love and life I have experienced and shared in all the past few years, that I would have missed out on had things turned out the way I thought they should have.
Sometimes I really do thank God for unanswered prayers.....
Monday, September 18, 2006
Who'da thunkit?
One of the ways that I reward myself for reaching weight loss goals is to buy myself CDs that are woefully missing from my collection.
So I had decided a while back that when I hit 40, I would buy myself a copy of Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. And while in the store, I was hit with the idea to buy the one lone CD that Blind Faith put out. I'd heard some good things about it, and hey, why not?
I put in Layla -- and it did not disappoint at all. But then I put in Blind Faith. I was even more blown away. In the few days since, I have listened to Blind Faith far more often. Frankly, I'm shocked. I never imagined that this one would grow on me so fast. My favorite song? Probably "Can't Find My Way Home" -- but then again, I've always liked that one. Of the ones I didn't know before, probably "Presence of the Lord" (an underrated Clapton gem).
I never guessed this CD would be so good.
So I had decided a while back that when I hit 40, I would buy myself a copy of Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. And while in the store, I was hit with the idea to buy the one lone CD that Blind Faith put out. I'd heard some good things about it, and hey, why not?
I put in Layla -- and it did not disappoint at all. But then I put in Blind Faith. I was even more blown away. In the few days since, I have listened to Blind Faith far more often. Frankly, I'm shocked. I never imagined that this one would grow on me so fast. My favorite song? Probably "Can't Find My Way Home" -- but then again, I've always liked that one. Of the ones I didn't know before, probably "Presence of the Lord" (an underrated Clapton gem).
I never guessed this CD would be so good.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Remembering 9/11
For my parents' generation, they can tell you exactly where they were when Kennedy was assassinated. For my generation, it is the Challenger disaster and 9/11. I hope I never forget.
That day, I remember getting to the church office. One of our parishioners had very suddenly died the night before -- found out at 8:30 that morning. I was in complete shock over her passing. We all were. A few minutes later, I was speaking on the phone with another parishioner about this event, when he said, "Hold it! A plane just hit one of the WTC towers."
The topic quickly shifted, and we thought perhaps it was just off course through an accident. Then he said, "Oh my God. It's hit the other." I told him I'd talk to him later, and immediately went to turn on the TV in the conference room.
My coworker and my boss both came in over the next few minutes. I don't think we did a thing that day except sit in front of the TV and field the occasional phone call. And we passed around the Kleenex -- and the TP when we ran out of tissues.
I remember answering a call from a news reporter around noon, asking if we were going to do any special services. We were still processing everything that had happened -- from our parishioner's sudden death to the national event. I admit that I got very snippy with this reporter and said something like, "I know there's a national crisis, and that it's important. But we have a crisis of our own as well, and we're trying to minister to everyone on every level. {Here's where I got reallllly snippy} And besides, we have a service EVERY day, not just when something happens. So yes, we'll have our regular services and yes we will say special prayers. But as far as a specially planned thing, I'll have to let you know later."
The rest of the day was a blur. I went home, turned on MSNBC, and sat in front of the TV some more. The stories broke my heart. There were so many people on camera, asking the nation to let them know if they knew where such-and-such person was. And I signed on to the messageboard I read often. An Episcopal priest who was a member posted a prayer he'd composed that day. I read the prayer and wept some more. I remember all of us being worried sick over the girls in NYC and Washington.
And here in my small hometown, a local business owner -- born as a Palestinian in Israel -- went to the other business owners on that street, weeping with sorrow over what his fellow Muslims had wrought. Apologizing over and over and asking not to be judged in the same boat as them. And being told over and over by these businessmen and businesswomen that he was not to blame, that he would be just as welcome as ever in their stores, and that they would continue to patronize his business -- all of which has held true.
For the rest of the week, I kept my radio on NPR -- they were running non-stop coverage. I needed to hear it. Over and over and over. I don't know why. On Friday, we opened the church for the National Day of Prayer. I went and knelt there, totally numb. I didn't know what to beseech God for -- all I knew was I had to be there.
Afterwards, I drove to Savannah to visit my friends as planned. And again, listened to NPR all the way down. I couldn't get enough of the news that week. Odd, isn't it?
***
This morning, I heard Alan Jackson's "Where Were You" on the way in, and it brought it all back. And the firehouse close to work had its own memorial. A flag at half-staff, and a fireman's uniform propped up at the flagpole. It was all I could do not to cry all over again.
How has 9/11 changed me? Like many, I could talk about the loss of innocence for us all that day. The realization that we are hated, because of our freedoms and our blessings. The knowledge that it could happen again, at any time and without warning. The price of freedom, purchased with innocent lives who just happened to board a plane, or be at their office that day.
There is all of that. Yet I still hold out great hope for humanity. I still believe that the majority of people are good at heart, and that if we band together, we can overcome the evil present in the world. It has made me more cognizant of the need for true justice -- as Pope Paul said, "If you want peace in the world, work for justice." It has made me more aware of how very much the same we all are -- that no matter what our occupation, our heritage, our faith, our lives and cultures are, we are all humans with the same needs, desires, hopes, fears.
It is my sincere prayer that this day will never be forgotten -- and that we who watched the events of that day and were horror-stricken at the evil that reared its head will do all in our power to overcome that evil.
That day, I remember getting to the church office. One of our parishioners had very suddenly died the night before -- found out at 8:30 that morning. I was in complete shock over her passing. We all were. A few minutes later, I was speaking on the phone with another parishioner about this event, when he said, "Hold it! A plane just hit one of the WTC towers."
The topic quickly shifted, and we thought perhaps it was just off course through an accident. Then he said, "Oh my God. It's hit the other." I told him I'd talk to him later, and immediately went to turn on the TV in the conference room.
My coworker and my boss both came in over the next few minutes. I don't think we did a thing that day except sit in front of the TV and field the occasional phone call. And we passed around the Kleenex -- and the TP when we ran out of tissues.
I remember answering a call from a news reporter around noon, asking if we were going to do any special services. We were still processing everything that had happened -- from our parishioner's sudden death to the national event. I admit that I got very snippy with this reporter and said something like, "I know there's a national crisis, and that it's important. But we have a crisis of our own as well, and we're trying to minister to everyone on every level. {Here's where I got reallllly snippy} And besides, we have a service EVERY day, not just when something happens. So yes, we'll have our regular services and yes we will say special prayers. But as far as a specially planned thing, I'll have to let you know later."
The rest of the day was a blur. I went home, turned on MSNBC, and sat in front of the TV some more. The stories broke my heart. There were so many people on camera, asking the nation to let them know if they knew where such-and-such person was. And I signed on to the messageboard I read often. An Episcopal priest who was a member posted a prayer he'd composed that day. I read the prayer and wept some more. I remember all of us being worried sick over the girls in NYC and Washington.
And here in my small hometown, a local business owner -- born as a Palestinian in Israel -- went to the other business owners on that street, weeping with sorrow over what his fellow Muslims had wrought. Apologizing over and over and asking not to be judged in the same boat as them. And being told over and over by these businessmen and businesswomen that he was not to blame, that he would be just as welcome as ever in their stores, and that they would continue to patronize his business -- all of which has held true.
For the rest of the week, I kept my radio on NPR -- they were running non-stop coverage. I needed to hear it. Over and over and over. I don't know why. On Friday, we opened the church for the National Day of Prayer. I went and knelt there, totally numb. I didn't know what to beseech God for -- all I knew was I had to be there.
Afterwards, I drove to Savannah to visit my friends as planned. And again, listened to NPR all the way down. I couldn't get enough of the news that week. Odd, isn't it?
***
This morning, I heard Alan Jackson's "Where Were You" on the way in, and it brought it all back. And the firehouse close to work had its own memorial. A flag at half-staff, and a fireman's uniform propped up at the flagpole. It was all I could do not to cry all over again.
How has 9/11 changed me? Like many, I could talk about the loss of innocence for us all that day. The realization that we are hated, because of our freedoms and our blessings. The knowledge that it could happen again, at any time and without warning. The price of freedom, purchased with innocent lives who just happened to board a plane, or be at their office that day.
There is all of that. Yet I still hold out great hope for humanity. I still believe that the majority of people are good at heart, and that if we band together, we can overcome the evil present in the world. It has made me more cognizant of the need for true justice -- as Pope Paul said, "If you want peace in the world, work for justice." It has made me more aware of how very much the same we all are -- that no matter what our occupation, our heritage, our faith, our lives and cultures are, we are all humans with the same needs, desires, hopes, fears.
It is my sincere prayer that this day will never be forgotten -- and that we who watched the events of that day and were horror-stricken at the evil that reared its head will do all in our power to overcome that evil.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Dear Coach Spurrier,
I love you dearly. Even when you were at Florida and I hated the fact that you handed us our stuff on a silver platter each year, I had a grudging respect for Darth Visor. You knew how to win and win big.
I know our talent pool isn't what you had at Florida. It's probably even just barely better than the talent level at Duke. I know that you're bringing excellence to my beloved Gamecocks, and I know it's going to take some time. I'm a patient fan.
I would like, however, to make a suggestion: Please talk to Blake Mitchell about his study habits. It seems the poor boy is failing "Biogeology 101: How To Tell The Difference Between Your Ass and a Hole in the Ground." Do you have a tutor who can help him with this?
Many thanks,
CG
I know our talent pool isn't what you had at Florida. It's probably even just barely better than the talent level at Duke. I know that you're bringing excellence to my beloved Gamecocks, and I know it's going to take some time. I'm a patient fan.
I would like, however, to make a suggestion: Please talk to Blake Mitchell about his study habits. It seems the poor boy is failing "Biogeology 101: How To Tell The Difference Between Your Ass and a Hole in the Ground." Do you have a tutor who can help him with this?
Many thanks,
CG
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Hopped up on caffeine, and need to sleep...
I am such a doofus.
One of the things on WW is that we have to have 2 servings of dairy a day. Okay, so we were out of milk today, and I didn't go pick any up like I intended to do. So no biggie, I thought, I'd just pick some up on the way home from church tonight.
I stopped by the convenience store near home -- and there was no skim milk available. Just 2% and regular. I didn't want 2%; I really can't drink it. For whatever reason, skim milk is the only kind that my system will seem to tolerate. So I was stuck.
Then I saw the Starbucks Frappuccino. Yeah! Those are made with skim or 1%, right? No problem! Except........ I'm planning to go in early tomorrow to do some work on the UK accounts. Early, as in the time I usually hit the gym. As in, need to be in bed this very second so I can wake up refreshed in 7 hours. And what else is sitting in my car? The Diet Coke that goes with tonight's dinner. Not decaf either.
So about an hour ago, I had both a Starbucks Frappuccino *and* a Diet Coke. Plus I had a short nap this afternoon. I'm betting I won't fall asleep until 1:00 in the morning. And I'm still out of milk for tomorrow's cereal.
I should have just gotten the 2% and let it do its "magic" to my innards.
Dammitall.
One of the things on WW is that we have to have 2 servings of dairy a day. Okay, so we were out of milk today, and I didn't go pick any up like I intended to do. So no biggie, I thought, I'd just pick some up on the way home from church tonight.
I stopped by the convenience store near home -- and there was no skim milk available. Just 2% and regular. I didn't want 2%; I really can't drink it. For whatever reason, skim milk is the only kind that my system will seem to tolerate. So I was stuck.
Then I saw the Starbucks Frappuccino. Yeah! Those are made with skim or 1%, right? No problem! Except........ I'm planning to go in early tomorrow to do some work on the UK accounts. Early, as in the time I usually hit the gym. As in, need to be in bed this very second so I can wake up refreshed in 7 hours. And what else is sitting in my car? The Diet Coke that goes with tonight's dinner. Not decaf either.
So about an hour ago, I had both a Starbucks Frappuccino *and* a Diet Coke. Plus I had a short nap this afternoon. I'm betting I won't fall asleep until 1:00 in the morning. And I'm still out of milk for tomorrow's cereal.
I should have just gotten the 2% and let it do its "magic" to my innards.
Dammitall.
Monday, August 28, 2006
New Workout Music List
Yeppers, I updated the Lyra a few days ago with a few new tunes. Actually I'd updated it a few weeks back and made a few more changes. Some remain from my earlier list, but a few newer songs from the ol' collection have been added.
What meets my criteria?
1. Good beat
2. Positive message
3. I just like it.
So here's my list (and a few notes):
What meets my criteria?
1. Good beat
2. Positive message
3. I just like it.
So here's my list (and a few notes):
- Ah! Leah! (Donnie Iris) -- I just like it; good beat.
- All Fired Up (Pat Benatar) -- it's the message: "I believe there comes a time, when everything just falls in line." Pretty much the story of the last 18 months of my life. Things on occasion have fallen in line and clicked when there was no real reason for them to do so. I can't argue with that.
- Boogie Wonderland (Earth Wind & Fire) -- hello? It's Earth Wind & Fire. Reason enough.
- Cigarettes & Alcohol (Rod Stewart) -- yeah. Real positive, huh? Actually, I just like it, and it has a good beat for me to start with.
- Cool the Engines (Boston) -- love this song. And it's the perfect cool-down, especially if I'm on the treadmill that gives you a five-minute cooldown once you've gone over 20 minutes (some of the newer ones give you only 2-3 minutes).
- Crumblin' Down (John Cougar Mellencamp) -- I have always loved this song. And "Authority Song" (same CD, and was previously on the Lyra). Why do I love anti-authority songs so much? The world may never know....
- Deeper & Deeper (The Fixx) -- great song. This version is from the Streets of Fire soundtrack. The movie didn't do so hot, but it had some great music -- this and "I Can Dream About You" by Dan Hartman.
- Gemini Dream (Moody Blues) -- this song has a special place in my heart, and a good beat, so that's why it's here.
- Hair of the Dog (Nazareth) -- one rockin' awesome song.
- Head to Toe (Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam) -- the beat. Plain and simple. It was tough to choose between this and "Lost in Emotion" but this had the more workout-like beat. And good memories of my first semester in college.
- Hold On Tight (ELO) -- great positive message, especially considering my goal is truly long-term. It's a dream I want to hold on tight to....
- I Feel Free (Cream) -- because why wouldn't you want something by Eric Clapton on your MP3/iPod? And it's my hippie-like indulgence on an otherwise heavily 70s/80s list.
- James Dean (Eagles) -- great beat. One of my favorite bands. I mean, c'mon!!!
- Jealous Again (Black Crowes) -- good band. Good song. Good beat. Perfect combination.
- Keep Yourself Alive (Queen) -- great band. Good message. Awesome beat. God, I miss Freddie Mercury ....
- Let It Whip (Dazz Band) -- makes me walk a little faster and put a little extra something in my step. And besides, it's one of the last good dance songs.
- Lights Out (Peter Wolf) -- don't know why. I just like it. And so, it is here.
- Long Train Running (Doobie Brothers) -- another good drivin' song (not driving as in behind the wheel -- drivin' as in motivating). Might not be good for you, but it works for me.
- New York Groove (Ace Frehley) -- yes, I have this. A live version, no less. Good driving beat that keeps me paced fairly well.
- On the Loose (Saga) -- don't know why, but it works for me.
- One Vision (Queen) -- another good song with a great message.
- Peace Frog (Doors) -- unfortunately, this is the "first-half" only of a two-part song. And yes, it's an odd inclusion. But somehow, again, it works for me.
- Radioactive (The Firm) -- ya know, I'm discovering that for some reason, most of these are songs that would only work for a real twisted brain like mine. Moohoohoohahahaha! This is another of them.
- Remedy (Black Crowes) -- another one that might not work for everyone, but it works for me (by this point, I'm usually off the treadmill and on the Nautilus machines anyway).
- Running Down A Dream (Tom Petty) -- fantastic beat, really driving and keeps me going.
- Running On Empty (Jackson Browne) -- another one with a good steady beat. And besides, it reminds me of the scene in Forrest Gump when he's running to this song. Kind of inspires me to think that one day -- not now, but one day -- I would do the same.
- Sanctify Yourself (Simple Minds) -- again, one that might not do diddly for you, but it works well for me.
- Shining Star (Earth Wind & Fire) -- one of the most positive songs I can have on here. If I need a good uplift, if I'm frustrated about something in my workout, this song helps me focus on why I'm doing all this.
- Sir Duke (Stevie Wonder) -- if you don't move something during this song, check to see if you're lying between Keith Moon and Brian Jones.
- So Alive (Love & Rockets) -- yet another of those "only Nettie" songs.
- Train in Vain (The Clash) -- good beat. It works.
- Whatever Gets You Through the Night (John Lennon) -- another song with a good beat to get me happy and moving. Although, every time I hear the beginning, I can almost hear Don Pardo saying, "GE Smith and the Saturday Night Live Baaaaand..... MUUUUUsical guest, Whomever, and your host......" (Yes, I know GE Smith hasn't been on there in ages. I still hear his name whenever I hear it, just like occasionally for the Today show, my head will hear "with Bryant Gumbel and Jane Pauley.....")
- Winning (Santana) -- a truly inspiring, positive song. I've loved it for 25 years now, and I don't intend to stop.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Now for the sucky covers.....
In an earlier post, I had mentioned some cover songs that I actually like better than the originals. But now I'm afraid that I must discuss ... those singles. I'm not talking the ones that belong on the next version of "Golden Throats" -- horrid as they are, I *like* those in a weird way. I'm referring to the ones which managed to chart.... they instead belong on the Jukebox from Hades.
With barf bags at the ready, let us begin:
With barf bags at the ready, let us begin:
- "Everytime You Go Away" by Paul Young. If you have EVER heard the original by Hall & Oates (off the Voices album), you will understand why. The first time I heard it was in 1982. Our pastor's daughter and I were riding around and she put it on and asked me what I thought. I was mesmerized. It was such a powerful song that I actually got misty. What blew me away was the organ work -- I felt like I'd been to church. When Paul Young released his single a couple of years later, I was underwhelmed. Not many people realized it was a cover song. And his cover was incredibly soulless. All the heartfelt pleading and emotional intensity had been washed out, and just the song lyrics and melody remained. They even took the organ out and replaced it with a tinkly synth. Well, you just can't do that to a song this meaningful. Paul went on to strip the soul out of other good songs like "Oh Girl" (Chi-Lites) and "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted?" (Jimmy Ruffin).
- "You Can't Hurry Love" by Phil Collins. Speaking of Motown ripoffs......... My dislike of Phil is pretty well known. I like some of his earlier stuff, up through No Jacket Required and a few songs here and there afterwards. What I didn't like was the constant mugging for the camera, the self-serving stuff -- really, did he have to play both locations of Live Aid, and do the same set at each? -- and especially the Serving Divorce Notice Via Fax. Anyhow, for all the good of "I Missed Again" and "Wish It Would Rain Down" there are the less-than-thrilling songs. This one isn't that bad, especially when compared to the overplayed, God-do-I-wish-every-copy-would-simultaneously-self-combust "In the Air Tonight" -- but it just grates on me nonetheless. Miss Ross and her fellow Supremes had a certain flair with this song that Phil just doesn't.
- "Dancing in the Street" by Mick Jagger & David Bowie. Speaking of Live Aid..... yeah, I remember the premiere of this video. I was excited by it at the time. However, 21 years later, this rendition can't hold a candle to Martha & the Vandellas' original. And while God knows I love kitsch, this isn't cool kitschy, just saaaaad, man. Saaaaad. Especially considering the influence the song had on the Stones' "Street Fighting Man" .... if it comes on, I listen, if for no other reason than to remind me that Motown got things right. Stax-Volt did it more soulfully, but Motown did good!
- "The Power of Love" by Celine Dion. I had totally forgotten that Laura Branigan did this song waaaay back in the 80s. The other weekend, I was listening to American Top 40 reruns on "80s on 8" (XM) and it was a long-distance dedication. I just about fell out. Not that I love this song by any stretch. But Laura Branigan's version had a certain vulnerability about it; a nice quiet power that relied on the lyrics to express it. Celine's got a powerhouse voice, certainly -- but it's a voice that doesn't caress or invite. It drowns. But then again, Celine has a history of doing sucky covers. Remember her godawful renditions of "All By Myself" ... and "I Drove All Night"? BLECH!
- "California Girls" by David Lee Roth. I'm not a huge Beach Boys fan by any stretch. Pretty much everything they have done since Pet Sounds has sucked and is just a ploy for more dinero. But their earlier stuff was really good -- including "California Girls." Brian Wilson really was a genius, and I do wonder on occasion what might have been had he been perhaps a little stronger emotionally to handle the fortune and fame. As for his part, David Lee just turned it into another ploy to ogle chicks in bikinis and make a video about it. Solo career, but same ol' lecherous Dave.
- "Break On Through" by Stone Temple Pilots. As a general rule, Doors songs shouldn't be covered. There was a Doors tribute album a while back, on which this song appears. STP should have spent more time listening to Aerosmith do "Love Me Two Times" -- that was a decent cover. Or even listened to Billy Idol's "LA Woman" (from the Doors movie soundtrack). Both fairly good renditions, faithful to the original, and yet not making anyone say "Jim who?" STP's was both a tragedy and a travesty.
- "Funkytown" by Pseudo Echo. Travesty. Injustice. Pure sucktitude. This song is probably what spawned Butthead's immortal phrase: "Stop! in the name of all that which does not suck!" And speaking of Stop!....
- "Stop in the Name of Love" by the Hollies. This isn't my idea, but I concur wholeheartedly. I forget which book I have, but the authors compare this one to the original by the Supremes as this (paraphrase): "The missing exclamation mark says it all." Yep.
- "Free Bird/Baby I Love Your Way" by Will to Power. Will to Power sucked. Badly. You do not take a Frampton record, splice a little Skynyrd in, and serve it up. In the words of my dear pal Tal Gleck, "People BOUGHT this record???" This assessment also goes for any Will to Power song.
- "I'll Be Missing You" by Whatever-the-Frick-His-Nickname-Is-Now; You-Know-The Rap-Guy. This song just draws my pure, unadulterated hatred. And if I had been Sting, I would have sued his pants off. Oh yeah. How original. Let me take a song that was a blockbuster and change it around to talk about a murdered rapper. Oooooooh! Brilliant.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
And the one I did....
This is a continuation, of sorts, of the previous post.
I didn't know my grandfathers at all, but I had a great surrogate grandfather -- Pop John, my maternal grandfather's brother-in-law (married my grandfather's sister). He was kind and generous of heart, and did he ever dote on us! He never had children of his own, so we were the closest thing he was ever going to have to grandchildren.
I can still smell the Aqua Velva he wore daily. I know the layout of their home as well as I know my own, even though nearly 20 years have passed since I visited, and almost 30 since I made yearly summer visits. I can still hear the wake-up call of each morning: "OWWWW!" (from his daily insulin shot). I remember the HUGE ears he had. I can see the alarm clock that sat on the table in their dining room. I remember the trips to Tallahassee that were part of every visit to their home. I can see the wispy white-gray hair that was on top of his head. The gold-wire-frame glasses. The tile in Pop John's little bathroom (off to the side of the guest room, but he used it as his). I remember that on occasion, on Saturdays, we would watch wrestling -- just like I did at home, but with different people. He wasn't a huge fan, but got a kick out of the fact that I loved it.
And to call him "robust" or "stout" was an understatement. He was larger than life. He had served in the Pacific theater of WWII, and he and his unit nearly starved to death on a Pacific island. Upon their rescue, he decided he would never go hungry again -- ever. That man could eat like no one I ever knew. If he visited, it was meals out each night -- especially at any sort of cafeteria. Morrison's was a particular favorite. There was a time they were up visiting when I was young, and he picked me up in his lap and said, "Well, little missy, where do you want to eat?" My mother says I replied, "Anywhere is fine, but I always eat better at Morrison's."
Even after my aunt died in 1978, he still came up to visit, or welcomed us back to Georgia. Then in 1982, while visiting an old high school girlfriend in the Midwest, he had a stroke. They got him back to a nursing home in Quitman, Georgia, where he would spend the last 5 years of his life. When we went to visit him, there was a misunderstanding between he and my mother -- I blame the stroke for his diminished capacity, and my mother's own tendency to hear what she wants to and put the most negative spin ever on it. I'm not sure why -- guilt or whatever -- but my mother would call the Home once a month to check on him. She always got the same report: "he's doing well; it's been a good week."
We never saw him again until that July weekend when his sister "Louise" called us on a Saturday night, to tell us he had passed, and that the funeral was the next day at 2:00. We very quickly threw clothes together in suitcases, left for south Georgia, and stopped when it was already midnight and we were exhausted -- and two hours left to drive. That morning, we stopped at his secretary's house. "Nita" was a long-time friend of ours too, and she warned us that it wouldn't look like him. She and my mother played catch-up on details, and she also told my mother that the Home had apparently been feeding her a load of bull all those years. He had not been alright, but had steadily gone downhill.
We got to the house where his sister Louise was. She more or less hinted that we were welcome to take a few moments to freshen up but that THEY would be leaving for lunch shortly. When my mother conveyed this tidbit to Nita later, she was furious. She told my mother that the Presbyterian church in town had sent over a feast and that there was tons of food in the fridge. We could have (and should have, in her opinion) been given free reign of the house and the food therein. I think Nita and my mother shared the opinion of my aunt regarding her sister-in-law -- "rhymes with witch." It became my opinion that day as well.
We ate a quick fast-food meal and hustled to the funeral home. Nita had been right. The man in the casket was not my Pop John. This was a 130-pound shell of a man. There was no barrel-chested man, no loud voice that had commanded troops and yelled, "OWWWW!" each morning. There was no hearing aid present, but had it not been for those humongous ears, I wouldn't have known it was him. Even my mother turned to the funeral home folks with a look of "Did you bring us into the right room?" I just said, "My God. The ears." That's how I knew.
At the graveside, we saw many old friends of Aunt Mary and Pop John's. I had known so many of their friends, and their friends' children and even a grandchild or two, from all my summers there. Even now, if I were pressed to, I could probably remember a few names. I saw "Artemis," their part-time cook and housekeeper. She was a precious woman, and I couldn't believe that the older woman with gray strands now all through her hair was the same person I remembered.
Mom received a small sum from his will. Living at The Home had drained much of his savings, but I think my mother was surprised she was remembered at all, considering their frosty relationship of the previous few years. We got my aunt's jewelry, which we did expect, and a cedar chest that had belonged to my aunt. Nita got a few things, and Artemis got a few things and his car (to which my mother and Nita both said, "GOOD!")
I was 17 that summer. I would leave for college in a few weeks later. It was a tough summer. It seemed to me that all the people who had played such a role in making the good moments of childhood outweigh the bad were leaving me. Not only had Pop John passed, but another surrogate grandmother was dying of leukemia and would leave us just after Thanksgiving. The time had come to take all they had taught me and move forward.
I didn't know my grandfathers at all, but I had a great surrogate grandfather -- Pop John, my maternal grandfather's brother-in-law (married my grandfather's sister). He was kind and generous of heart, and did he ever dote on us! He never had children of his own, so we were the closest thing he was ever going to have to grandchildren.
I can still smell the Aqua Velva he wore daily. I know the layout of their home as well as I know my own, even though nearly 20 years have passed since I visited, and almost 30 since I made yearly summer visits. I can still hear the wake-up call of each morning: "OWWWW!" (from his daily insulin shot). I remember the HUGE ears he had. I can see the alarm clock that sat on the table in their dining room. I remember the trips to Tallahassee that were part of every visit to their home. I can see the wispy white-gray hair that was on top of his head. The gold-wire-frame glasses. The tile in Pop John's little bathroom (off to the side of the guest room, but he used it as his). I remember that on occasion, on Saturdays, we would watch wrestling -- just like I did at home, but with different people. He wasn't a huge fan, but got a kick out of the fact that I loved it.
And to call him "robust" or "stout" was an understatement. He was larger than life. He had served in the Pacific theater of WWII, and he and his unit nearly starved to death on a Pacific island. Upon their rescue, he decided he would never go hungry again -- ever. That man could eat like no one I ever knew. If he visited, it was meals out each night -- especially at any sort of cafeteria. Morrison's was a particular favorite. There was a time they were up visiting when I was young, and he picked me up in his lap and said, "Well, little missy, where do you want to eat?" My mother says I replied, "Anywhere is fine, but I always eat better at Morrison's."
Even after my aunt died in 1978, he still came up to visit, or welcomed us back to Georgia. Then in 1982, while visiting an old high school girlfriend in the Midwest, he had a stroke. They got him back to a nursing home in Quitman, Georgia, where he would spend the last 5 years of his life. When we went to visit him, there was a misunderstanding between he and my mother -- I blame the stroke for his diminished capacity, and my mother's own tendency to hear what she wants to and put the most negative spin ever on it. I'm not sure why -- guilt or whatever -- but my mother would call the Home once a month to check on him. She always got the same report: "he's doing well; it's been a good week."
We never saw him again until that July weekend when his sister "Louise" called us on a Saturday night, to tell us he had passed, and that the funeral was the next day at 2:00. We very quickly threw clothes together in suitcases, left for south Georgia, and stopped when it was already midnight and we were exhausted -- and two hours left to drive. That morning, we stopped at his secretary's house. "Nita" was a long-time friend of ours too, and she warned us that it wouldn't look like him. She and my mother played catch-up on details, and she also told my mother that the Home had apparently been feeding her a load of bull all those years. He had not been alright, but had steadily gone downhill.
We got to the house where his sister Louise was. She more or less hinted that we were welcome to take a few moments to freshen up but that THEY would be leaving for lunch shortly. When my mother conveyed this tidbit to Nita later, she was furious. She told my mother that the Presbyterian church in town had sent over a feast and that there was tons of food in the fridge. We could have (and should have, in her opinion) been given free reign of the house and the food therein. I think Nita and my mother shared the opinion of my aunt regarding her sister-in-law -- "rhymes with witch." It became my opinion that day as well.
We ate a quick fast-food meal and hustled to the funeral home. Nita had been right. The man in the casket was not my Pop John. This was a 130-pound shell of a man. There was no barrel-chested man, no loud voice that had commanded troops and yelled, "OWWWW!" each morning. There was no hearing aid present, but had it not been for those humongous ears, I wouldn't have known it was him. Even my mother turned to the funeral home folks with a look of "Did you bring us into the right room?" I just said, "My God. The ears." That's how I knew.
At the graveside, we saw many old friends of Aunt Mary and Pop John's. I had known so many of their friends, and their friends' children and even a grandchild or two, from all my summers there. Even now, if I were pressed to, I could probably remember a few names. I saw "Artemis," their part-time cook and housekeeper. She was a precious woman, and I couldn't believe that the older woman with gray strands now all through her hair was the same person I remembered.
Mom received a small sum from his will. Living at The Home had drained much of his savings, but I think my mother was surprised she was remembered at all, considering their frosty relationship of the previous few years. We got my aunt's jewelry, which we did expect, and a cedar chest that had belonged to my aunt. Nita got a few things, and Artemis got a few things and his car (to which my mother and Nita both said, "GOOD!")
I was 17 that summer. I would leave for college in a few weeks later. It was a tough summer. It seemed to me that all the people who had played such a role in making the good moments of childhood outweigh the bad were leaving me. Not only had Pop John passed, but another surrogate grandmother was dying of leukemia and would leave us just after Thanksgiving. The time had come to take all they had taught me and move forward.
The two I never knew....
My friend Talmadge Gleck has written a very loving tribute to his grandfather on his Five Flavors of Reflection. And it got me to thinking about my own relationships with my grandfathers. I wish I could say that I had the best grandfathers in the world and that they loved me tremendously and doted on my every move and every word. But that would be completely false. In fact, I never knew either of them -- but even today, they continue to impact my life.
My maternal grandfather died of a heart attack at age 48 in 1962. He had been through quite a bit even in that young life. When he was around 26 years old, he was stricken with polio and more or less paralyzed from the thorax down. A few years later, with the help of Vocational Rehabilitation, he opened a little mom-n-pop grocery (convenience store) right in our front yard. Then he died, when my mom was 24.
How has he loomed in my life? Apparently, he's on a slightly lower pedestal than the Trinity. There is no doubt whatever that my mother adored and worshipped her daddy. I ask my relatives about him, and they always say, "Oh, Uncle Gene was the most fun-loving guy you could imagine." To which I think, "Then please explain how my mother is one of the least fun-loving people in the world...." From what I gather, he had a can-do spirit and was a prankster extraordinaire. I also gather he was a bit authoritarian, but probably no more so than other dads of that place and time. I don't know enough of his relatives who would remember him -- or who are still around to tell the story.
Then there is my paternal grandfather, the great mystery. He fathered seven children with my grandmother, and they were married for around 38 years. He lived with her for probably less than 15 of them. I can't say that I completely blame him either. I loved my grandmother, but she could drive any saint to drink or worse.
My dad doesn't talk about his dad; he just says, "Not much to tell." By the time my father was growing up, my grandfather had moved back to his homeplace and more or less came over for occasional visits. My grandparents never divorced, the only possible explanation being that divorce wasn't viewed kindly in their families. I have heard snippets of stories about him from others in the family, and quite honestly, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. I'm honestly a little afraid to ask much more from my uncles and aunts. They're not a talkative lot -- except for one aunt, who will gladly talk as long as there is an audience (okay, so I get it honestly...).
Anyway, my grandfather died at age 63 when I was just over 5 months old, of complications from a stroke several years earlier. Of course, had it not been for the stroke, I would not be here. My parents began corresponding when my mother read an article in the newspaper about my father's situation (in the Army, being sent home as the lone remaining unmarried son to help support the family), and their story began. I am told that at his last and my first Christmas, he was at the old homeplace. When my mother walked in holding me (2 months old that day), he began to gesture for her and my dad. He finally uttered the word, "Baby!" and held me very briefly with tears in his eyes.
How does he impact me? As I said, he is the great mystery, from a family of mystery. I have cousins from that family in the area, but they have always tended to stay away from us and from my dad's siblings. Not sure why. Of course, maybe they knew Granny and assume that since my dad and siblings were raised by her, they have more of her in them than of my grandad. That just makes me want to know him all the more. He impacts me because when I do hear the rare stories of him and my grandmother together, they're always sad and make me really see her as the bad guy of the two.
A lot of people think my dad looks just like my granddad. I have one picture of him somewhere -- a rare one of him on a visit back to the homeplace, and he and my grandmother are standing next to each other. Naturally, she also looks like she's eaten 14 fresh lemons and a couple of rotten persimmons. He's smiling beatifically. Gotta admit, it says a lot. Anyway, I don't see that much of the resemblance, but then again, I never knew what he looked like outside the picture.
Here is the summation of my relationship with my grandfathers:
My maternal grandfather died of a heart attack at age 48 in 1962. He had been through quite a bit even in that young life. When he was around 26 years old, he was stricken with polio and more or less paralyzed from the thorax down. A few years later, with the help of Vocational Rehabilitation, he opened a little mom-n-pop grocery (convenience store) right in our front yard. Then he died, when my mom was 24.
How has he loomed in my life? Apparently, he's on a slightly lower pedestal than the Trinity. There is no doubt whatever that my mother adored and worshipped her daddy. I ask my relatives about him, and they always say, "Oh, Uncle Gene was the most fun-loving guy you could imagine." To which I think, "Then please explain how my mother is one of the least fun-loving people in the world...." From what I gather, he had a can-do spirit and was a prankster extraordinaire. I also gather he was a bit authoritarian, but probably no more so than other dads of that place and time. I don't know enough of his relatives who would remember him -- or who are still around to tell the story.
Then there is my paternal grandfather, the great mystery. He fathered seven children with my grandmother, and they were married for around 38 years. He lived with her for probably less than 15 of them. I can't say that I completely blame him either. I loved my grandmother, but she could drive any saint to drink or worse.
My dad doesn't talk about his dad; he just says, "Not much to tell." By the time my father was growing up, my grandfather had moved back to his homeplace and more or less came over for occasional visits. My grandparents never divorced, the only possible explanation being that divorce wasn't viewed kindly in their families. I have heard snippets of stories about him from others in the family, and quite honestly, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. I'm honestly a little afraid to ask much more from my uncles and aunts. They're not a talkative lot -- except for one aunt, who will gladly talk as long as there is an audience (okay, so I get it honestly...).
Anyway, my grandfather died at age 63 when I was just over 5 months old, of complications from a stroke several years earlier. Of course, had it not been for the stroke, I would not be here. My parents began corresponding when my mother read an article in the newspaper about my father's situation (in the Army, being sent home as the lone remaining unmarried son to help support the family), and their story began. I am told that at his last and my first Christmas, he was at the old homeplace. When my mother walked in holding me (2 months old that day), he began to gesture for her and my dad. He finally uttered the word, "Baby!" and held me very briefly with tears in his eyes.
How does he impact me? As I said, he is the great mystery, from a family of mystery. I have cousins from that family in the area, but they have always tended to stay away from us and from my dad's siblings. Not sure why. Of course, maybe they knew Granny and assume that since my dad and siblings were raised by her, they have more of her in them than of my grandad. That just makes me want to know him all the more. He impacts me because when I do hear the rare stories of him and my grandmother together, they're always sad and make me really see her as the bad guy of the two.
A lot of people think my dad looks just like my granddad. I have one picture of him somewhere -- a rare one of him on a visit back to the homeplace, and he and my grandmother are standing next to each other. Naturally, she also looks like she's eaten 14 fresh lemons and a couple of rotten persimmons. He's smiling beatifically. Gotta admit, it says a lot. Anyway, I don't see that much of the resemblance, but then again, I never knew what he looked like outside the picture.
Here is the summation of my relationship with my grandfathers:
The saddest words of tongue or pen
Are these four words: what might have been.
--John Greenleaf Whittier
Are these four words: what might have been.
--John Greenleaf Whittier
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Short but sweet
What part of NO can some people simply not comprehend? It doesn't mean, "Let me think about it and I might change my mind." It doesn't mean, "I'm just foolin' you, I really mean sure!" or even "Just for you, I'll make an exception."
It means no. Until whatever is causing the problem is resolved, then I cannot fulfill your request.
AAAAAAARGH!
It means no. Until whatever is causing the problem is resolved, then I cannot fulfill your request.
AAAAAAARGH!
Sunday, August 06, 2006
More MySpace follies
Well. A girl can only handle so much romance in one afternoon. In the space of just under 10 minutes, I have had FOUR e-mails from MySpace dudes.
Here's the first -- a real "prince charming":
hello am (name) 30yrs male from california,,,am very honest,loving,royaland very truthful young and single man ..so on seeing YOUR profile am very intrested to know u more ..this is my yahoo id incase u want us to talk online (e-mail addy) and i will like to know urs so that we can start talking online or emailling each other ..bye for now hope we understand each other very well and am looking forward in getting ur reply soon
(Name) .................am online in yahoo right now to talk with u
Well -- hot damn! I had been waiting for my prince to come along. Screw the fact that he has no clue about spelling, punctuation or grammar -- he's ROYAL!
The 2nd wasn't so much a hit-up as someone who just wrote. Someone I don't know, but probably won't respond either. E-mail #2 from him could be a real wackaloon thing.
As for the 3rd -- swoon! He writes poetry -- check out these lines:
i can fill u so much
You exist in my every breath,
in every beat of my heart,
adding a spectacular sizzle
in all the right places.
Even when I close my eyes,
I see your face and feel
the fire of your caress.
Your presence is a tangible thing...
yet as hard to grasp as the air.
I reach for you,
but you elude me.
Still, I can feel you;
the softness of a petal,
a warm wind on my cheek,
a ray in my vision,
a distant light that
ever draws me near.
He got all that from a 2 second perusal of my page. And I'm his for life. He can fill me so much and add a spectacular sizzle in all the right places. How can a girl say no?
OOPS! #4 just showed up -- one line only: "Wow u're so pretty!" So what sort of response to I give? "Yes, I know it" or maybe "Don't thank me, thank my parents..." or "Yeah, it's amazing what a good sex-change doctor can do!"
Wish to high heck that Blogger had a rolleyes emoticon right here, right now. I'd be overusing it!
Here's the first -- a real "prince charming":
hello am (name) 30yrs male from california,,,am very honest,loving,royaland very truthful young and single man ..so on seeing YOUR profile am very intrested to know u more ..this is my yahoo id incase u want us to talk online (e-mail addy) and i will like to know urs so that we can start talking online or emailling each other ..bye for now hope we understand each other very well and am looking forward in getting ur reply soon
(Name) .................am online in yahoo right now to talk with u
Well -- hot damn! I had been waiting for my prince to come along. Screw the fact that he has no clue about spelling, punctuation or grammar -- he's ROYAL!
The 2nd wasn't so much a hit-up as someone who just wrote. Someone I don't know, but probably won't respond either. E-mail #2 from him could be a real wackaloon thing.
As for the 3rd -- swoon! He writes poetry -- check out these lines:
i can fill u so much
You exist in my every breath,
in every beat of my heart,
adding a spectacular sizzle
in all the right places.
Even when I close my eyes,
I see your face and feel
the fire of your caress.
Your presence is a tangible thing...
yet as hard to grasp as the air.
I reach for you,
but you elude me.
Still, I can feel you;
the softness of a petal,
a warm wind on my cheek,
a ray in my vision,
a distant light that
ever draws me near.
He got all that from a 2 second perusal of my page. And I'm his for life. He can fill me so much and add a spectacular sizzle in all the right places. How can a girl say no?
OOPS! #4 just showed up -- one line only: "Wow u're so pretty!" So what sort of response to I give? "Yes, I know it" or maybe "Don't thank me, thank my parents..." or "Yeah, it's amazing what a good sex-change doctor can do!"
Wish to high heck that Blogger had a rolleyes emoticon right here, right now. I'd be overusing it!
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Loverboy might have been....
"Working for the Weekend" but I'm damn living for it.
It's been a bit hectic the last couple of weeks at work. Not that I completely mind; whenever I'm tempted to complain, I remind myself of some of the stress from my old job, and somehow all is right with the world again!
Tuesday marks my 1 year official anniversary with my new job, and I am amazed at how the last year has gone. I am just almost speechless when I reflect on the new responsibilities I've been given, the self-confidence I feel, all the changes and growth at work this past year. Those months of interviews and resumes and job searching and sitting at home just chillin' while things developed were all worth it.
I'm amazed by the confidence that my employers have placed in me. I admit, I was very nervous about working in accounting. My accounting experience was limited to a small office of a church, not corporate-level accounting. Through trial and error, they found the perfect work for me to do in receiveables. I also do a couple of analysis charts and other tracking. Five years ago, if you had told me that one day I'd say that I enjoyed accounting work, I would have shot you the evil eye SO quickly! I have since come to realize that what I hated was having my work interrupted by some sudden "urgent" need -- and that I am to blame for not having enough confidence to say, "I'll be glad to get you those figures as soon as I finish this project."
What a difference a year makes!
It's been a bit hectic the last couple of weeks at work. Not that I completely mind; whenever I'm tempted to complain, I remind myself of some of the stress from my old job, and somehow all is right with the world again!
Tuesday marks my 1 year official anniversary with my new job, and I am amazed at how the last year has gone. I am just almost speechless when I reflect on the new responsibilities I've been given, the self-confidence I feel, all the changes and growth at work this past year. Those months of interviews and resumes and job searching and sitting at home just chillin' while things developed were all worth it.
I'm amazed by the confidence that my employers have placed in me. I admit, I was very nervous about working in accounting. My accounting experience was limited to a small office of a church, not corporate-level accounting. Through trial and error, they found the perfect work for me to do in receiveables. I also do a couple of analysis charts and other tracking. Five years ago, if you had told me that one day I'd say that I enjoyed accounting work, I would have shot you the evil eye SO quickly! I have since come to realize that what I hated was having my work interrupted by some sudden "urgent" need -- and that I am to blame for not having enough confidence to say, "I'll be glad to get you those figures as soon as I finish this project."
What a difference a year makes!
Thursday, August 03, 2006
I'm EXPRESSIVE!
At least that's what my coworkers tell me. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or bad thing.
Part of my work involves the phone -- lots of calls. One customer in particular started the discussion. She had me on the phone for a while, and was telling me about their latest problem du jour. Apparently, I said, "oh no!" about 14 times in the course of the conversation.
I also said "Whaaaat?" one day and it sounded like a chicken's "bwaaak!" I won't even cover the other things we discussed (suffice to say that my coworker asked first if our lone male presence was in the room)!
I laughed until I cried. It was a great stress reliever.
But then again, they also said, "Please don't change being so expressive!" That's me, that's me, Comic Relief at your service!
Part of my work involves the phone -- lots of calls. One customer in particular started the discussion. She had me on the phone for a while, and was telling me about their latest problem du jour. Apparently, I said, "oh no!" about 14 times in the course of the conversation.
I also said "Whaaaat?" one day and it sounded like a chicken's "bwaaak!" I won't even cover the other things we discussed (suffice to say that my coworker asked first if our lone male presence was in the room)!
I laughed until I cried. It was a great stress reliever.
But then again, they also said, "Please don't change being so expressive!" That's me, that's me, Comic Relief at your service!
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Make way for DivaGeek!
I love my Lyra (MP3 player), but not being able to create a true playlist is getting to me. Or at least not being able to figure out if my Lyra will create a playlist yet. Well, it "creates" a playlist if I select the songs -- but I am not allowed to re-order them. That sucks!
Right now, as part of my fitness plan, I'm walking about 20 minutes on the treadmill (with a 5-minute cooldown) 3 times a week. I could really care less about the musical order of the first 20 minutes -- though I think I've actually found a great group IN order on my Lyra. But for that last 5 minutes, I have found that the perfect song for me is Boston's "Cool the Engines." And naturally, that songs falls smack dab in the middle of the 20-minute grouping I already have. Arrrrrgh. So it's either listen to it twice (which isn't a problem -- I love Boston), or skip it then go back.
It's my only complaint about the Lyra. Yeah, I know, if I wanted to go all DJ on it, I shoulda bought an iPod, right? Well, my PC is so ancient that it doesn't support i(Products) -- iPod, iTunes, iAm2cheap2buyanewPC....... That may change, too, but it will be a while. And when I do buy a new computer, I am seriously considering the Mac Mini. Teensy footprint (and God knows, I could use the space saving), big power. I am really, honestly, truly considering the Mac.
Actually, I've liked Macs since college. I worked as a computer lab student assistant, and in one of our locations, we had a Mac lab. One of my coworkers helped with it, because he had set up a Mac lab at his high school. Trey helped me learn to enjoy and loosen up around Macs. I felt at ease with PC's -- didn't entirely understand them, but could live with them. Macs were .... well, artsy and fun and how was I supposed to "learn" on them? But when I needed to scan a picture (yeah, WAY back in the days of a 256-grayscale flatbed scanner!), I had no choice but to use the Mac -- it was the only computer in the whole complex with a scanner attached. And the frat brother who did our chapter newsletter had started it on a Mac -- and wanted to leave it on a Mac. So I had to learn the hard way.
And I grew to like them a lot. Still didn't understand them, but liked them. I have loved and hated PC's for the better part of 20 years now, and I can be almost at one with them sometimes. Our brains think alike -- and sometimes short out alike too. Macs -- they're almost otherworldly. It's time for the Mac Mothership to come and claim me.
And when I get it, I can get an iPod and program things as I want them to be. Mooohooohooohahaha! (evil laugh)
Right now, as part of my fitness plan, I'm walking about 20 minutes on the treadmill (with a 5-minute cooldown) 3 times a week. I could really care less about the musical order of the first 20 minutes -- though I think I've actually found a great group IN order on my Lyra. But for that last 5 minutes, I have found that the perfect song for me is Boston's "Cool the Engines." And naturally, that songs falls smack dab in the middle of the 20-minute grouping I already have. Arrrrrgh. So it's either listen to it twice (which isn't a problem -- I love Boston), or skip it then go back.
It's my only complaint about the Lyra. Yeah, I know, if I wanted to go all DJ on it, I shoulda bought an iPod, right? Well, my PC is so ancient that it doesn't support i(Products) -- iPod, iTunes, iAm2cheap2buyanewPC....... That may change, too, but it will be a while. And when I do buy a new computer, I am seriously considering the Mac Mini. Teensy footprint (and God knows, I could use the space saving), big power. I am really, honestly, truly considering the Mac.
Actually, I've liked Macs since college. I worked as a computer lab student assistant, and in one of our locations, we had a Mac lab. One of my coworkers helped with it, because he had set up a Mac lab at his high school. Trey helped me learn to enjoy and loosen up around Macs. I felt at ease with PC's -- didn't entirely understand them, but could live with them. Macs were .... well, artsy and fun and how was I supposed to "learn" on them? But when I needed to scan a picture (yeah, WAY back in the days of a 256-grayscale flatbed scanner!), I had no choice but to use the Mac -- it was the only computer in the whole complex with a scanner attached. And the frat brother who did our chapter newsletter had started it on a Mac -- and wanted to leave it on a Mac. So I had to learn the hard way.
And I grew to like them a lot. Still didn't understand them, but liked them. I have loved and hated PC's for the better part of 20 years now, and I can be almost at one with them sometimes. Our brains think alike -- and sometimes short out alike too. Macs -- they're almost otherworldly. It's time for the Mac Mothership to come and claim me.
And when I get it, I can get an iPod and program things as I want them to be. Mooohooohooohahaha! (evil laugh)
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Wednesday Thoughtlets
Just call me O'Meachin Boddie --- Tuesday morning (well really, Monday night) kicked my butt six ways to Sunday. I tried, but there was no way my body was about to get up and put itself through a workout again so soon. So it was this morning instead. And the day of rest was definitely appreciated.
***
Scary moment on the commute home this evening. With about 10 minutes to go, I suddenly got very sleepy. As in eyelids drooping, couldn't stop yawning, etc. Came home and could not hit the hay fast enough for a quickie nap. I'm still in the Twilight Zone, but functioning. I think it will be an early night anyway......
***
Scary moment on the commute home this evening. With about 10 minutes to go, I suddenly got very sleepy. As in eyelids drooping, couldn't stop yawning, etc. Came home and could not hit the hay fast enough for a quickie nap. I'm still in the Twilight Zone, but functioning. I think it will be an early night anyway......
Monday, July 17, 2006
Monty Python and my health.
"I'm 37, I'm not old!" -- Dennis
"I'm not dead!" -- the old guy in the "Bring Out Yer Dead" scene
"I feel happy. I feel happy." Actually, I feel pooped. I did a water aerobics session at my best friend's community pool, and let me tell you .... it's NOT a sissy activity by any means. Sure, it was mostly gals (and one's husband), but it's not light or easy at all. For an hour, we kicked, jogged in place, did all manner of calisthenics, ab crunches, stretches, and so forth. Three hours later, my body is still going YIKES!
My mind right now is planning to go to the gym in the morning. We shall see what my body says at 6:00 tomorrow morning.
And if a cart came down the street with a guy yelling, "Bring out yer dead!" I might just hop on the wagon myself.
"I'm not dead!" -- the old guy in the "Bring Out Yer Dead" scene
"I feel happy. I feel happy." Actually, I feel pooped. I did a water aerobics session at my best friend's community pool, and let me tell you .... it's NOT a sissy activity by any means. Sure, it was mostly gals (and one's husband), but it's not light or easy at all. For an hour, we kicked, jogged in place, did all manner of calisthenics, ab crunches, stretches, and so forth. Three hours later, my body is still going YIKES!
My mind right now is planning to go to the gym in the morning. We shall see what my body says at 6:00 tomorrow morning.
And if a cart came down the street with a guy yelling, "Bring out yer dead!" I might just hop on the wagon myself.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Top Ten Songs Most Folks Have Probably Not Heard
From the Wayback Machine: Classic Nettie from April 1999......
For me to choose a favorite song or artist would be like asking a mother to pick a favorite child. It's near impossible to do -- so these songs are in random order. For this list, I chose songs -- or cover versions of better-known songs -- that most folks have probably never heard.
For me to choose a favorite song or artist would be like asking a mother to pick a favorite child. It's near impossible to do -- so these songs are in random order. For this list, I chose songs -- or cover versions of better-known songs -- that most folks have probably never heard.
- (Ain't It) Funny How Time Slips Away, by Al Green & Lyle Lovett. I am no fan of Willie Nelson, the singer (and my apologies/condolences to those who enjoy his singing). However, he is a very gifted songwriter -- exhibit A: "Crazy," made famous by the immortal Patsy Cline. Exhibit B is this particular song, a classic to country-philes. This version of "Funny How Time Slips Away" appears on the Rhythm, Country and Blues CD project, which paired various country and R&B artists. This song, in the hands of Green and Lovett, makes me want to dance every time I hear it. And I must admit that every time I hear this version, I wonder if Lyle was singing it to a certain Ms. Roberts..... By the way, practically this whole CD could have made the list in itself. It's well worth picking up for a listen.
- Much at All, by Susan Werner. A few years ago, I was browsing at a local used CD shop, and found a gem from BMG called Discovery Sampler: Pop (presumably for artists waiting to be discovered). I purchased this CD, only to find that I was getting it for a buck and very small change. I should have gone to confession over this one: it was a STEAL! There again, this CD alone could have made the Top Ten. Susan Werner's voice has that certain smoky-jazz-bar quality to it, and yet was achingly tender as well. She has a knockout sound on the other track on this CD as well. Special note: about three months later, I was back in that CD shop -- found 3 copies of this same CD, all priced at $5.99. Maybe other people told them that $1 or $2 was far too little to pay for this stuff!
- Pass Me By, by AJ Croce. Another piece from the Discovery Sampler: Pop CD. Jim Croce is probably beaming all over rock-and-roll-heaven at his son. AJ isn't a rocker or folk singer, but a jazz-man, with a voice that sometimes sounds like it was cloned from Dr. John's DNA. For someone in his mid-to-late 20s, he's got the vocal stylings of a old New Orleans jazz singer. This uptempo little number didn't last nearly long enough. Hopefully, we'll be hearing LOTS out of him for years to come!
- Tootie, by Hootie & the Blowfish. I had had a very bad week. Very bad. And in that time, I didn't listen to any music for a while. For those who know me well enough, that means you need to check my pulse. Anyway, when it was time to enter the world of sound again, I needed something that would express all that I'd been through that week. This CD (Fairweather Johnson) was the thing I needed to hear. I probably listened to it for 4 or 5 days straight. It brought me back to the land of the living. While many songs off the CD could have been given this honor, this song wins. Why? Let's just say that Elton John spoke the gospel truth when he said, "Sad Songs Say So Much." Even now, when I hear this, it takes me back to those days; only this time, I can smile about it.
- Everybody Knows, by Don Henley. Well, if you have Actual Miles (the DH greatest hits CD) or the Leonard Cohen tribute CD, then you've heard this one. Or if you have a decent radio station in your area (ours played this for about 2 weeks then mysteriously quit - shame on them!). I can't say what the attraction to this song is.... Some mysteries are best left unsolved!
- Duncan, by Paul Simon. I first heard this song when I was a freshman in college. Even now when I hear it, the image of me riding toward Clemson SC with Claudy Fewell comes to mind. When I bought Paul Simon's Negotiations and Love Songs a few years ago, I desperately hopedthat "Duncan" would be on there, since I had misplaced my Greatest Hits 1973-1977 tape with the song on it. No luck! Every time I hear this song, I am transported to places I've never been, and yet it feels "homey" (in a sense). Guess you'd call that "deja voodoo" (with apologies and a credit to Kenny Wayne Shepherd for that phrase).
- Adagio, by Albinoni. This is on a CD I have called "Top Ten Baroque." I had never heard of Albinoni before, but this song moved me. I nearly was in tears the first time I heard it. To me, it brings to mind images of a cold Russian winter. I could easily see this music being used in a figure skating routine (though at 9 minutes, they'd have to chop a heck of a lot). Granted, that's probably not what Albinoni had in mind for this piece. Definitely a too-cool song.
- Smoking Gun, by Robert Cray. When this tune got a small bit of MTV airplay back in 1986, I immediately took a strong liking to the song. I figured Robert Cray was a new guy trying to make it in the business, and my pull-for-the-new-guy-underdog mode took over. Was the joke on me!! Robert Cray was already a seasoned blues veteran at that point. I finally (after all these years) bought Strong Persuader, which has this song on it. Great CD! Good blues-based music and strong vocals. And naturally, "Smoking Gun" gets a replay every time..... :-)
- Jubilee, by Mary Chapin Carpenter. This is from her Stones in the Road CD. The music industry might classify her songs as "country" but this heavily-Celtic-influenced song is a far cry from country! The first time I heard this song, I truly was in tears. It's a beautiful tale of forgiveness and starting anew, especially when you're afraid to. This song inspired me then and continues to inspire me even now. Another one where the whole CD could have made the list!
- The Tango, by Grass Cactus (written by Niel Brooks). Grass Cactus was a local outfit that lasted for a couple of years and one CD, "Cactus Juice." Niel Brooks, who was the acoustic guitarist for the band, is an old friend, and in my opinion is nothing less than a genius. Anyway, this is one of his songs which appeared on Grass Cactus' CD, and is heartbreakingly beautiful. It's one of those songs that sticks with you long after the last note has sounded.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Been away, haven't seen you in a while...
Work's been busy, life's been busy, but it's all been good.
Apparently, this has been the week for me to be Miss Social Butterfly. Dinner last night with friends, which was so good. Katie has asked me to sing in her wedding this fall, and she needed some assistance. I was happy to help! And it was great to see Gina (Katie's mom) and my friend, Senora Dora again. Tonight, dinner with friends to celebrate a birthday. Been doing a lot of birthday or other special occasion dinners this month.
Lots of laughter and lots of tears too this month. A mixed bag. Just like life.
Apparently, this has been the week for me to be Miss Social Butterfly. Dinner last night with friends, which was so good. Katie has asked me to sing in her wedding this fall, and she needed some assistance. I was happy to help! And it was great to see Gina (Katie's mom) and my friend, Senora Dora again. Tonight, dinner with friends to celebrate a birthday. Been doing a lot of birthday or other special occasion dinners this month.
Lots of laughter and lots of tears too this month. A mixed bag. Just like life.
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