I had intended to play my favorite song from my favorite band in this category until I realized, that wasn't from my favorite album! My favorite albums are ones that I can listen to over and over and they never get old. I don't have to skip any songs because they're all perfect. U2-The Joshua Tree Nirvana-Unplugged in New York Mumford&Sons-Babel Jeff Buckley's Grace falls into this category. Grace really changed the way I looked at music. I love it when that happens.
In the autumn of 2000, I was given a mission: make a CD for my Annie's 16th birthday party, with songs all themed around 'sixteen'. Sure! I was the go-to DJ for the family, among other things, so I said no prob, I got this! It was harder than I thought, though, because I wanted a special CD for my special cuz. Anyway, that's how I stumbled across The Fureys, and my life hasn't been the same since.
The only time I get to listen to the radio is in the car, and the rule is, whoever is driving gets to listen to what they want. Unless it's a terrible awful song, of course. Since Dwayne is always driving, it's always classic rock. I have no idea why, even with a huge genre like classic rock, radio stations still insist on playing the same songs over and over. But at least this is a good song. :)
You'll have to forgive me. Day 4 of migraine. I believe this one is blood pressure related. Either I have a headache because of high blood pressure, or, my blood pressure is high because I have a headache. My bp has always been a solid 120/80, except for when I have a headache. But the neuro put me on pills, because my pressure was high the last time I was in her office. So...I took them for a while, but then I felt okay, so I took myself off of them. I just didn't want to be taking all those pills all the time. I decided to scale back whatever I could. That was apparently a mistake. I dragged myself to work today and finally realized this was a different kind of headache. Blood pressure = 151/98. It's never been that high in my life. Mom, Chelsea and Dwayne said Emergency Room. I say the E/R can't do anything more than I can do here. So anyway, if I seem more slow, sluggish and stupid than usual today, that's why. Now, task at hand! 30 Day Song Challenge - I don't hate any songs! I've decided this challenge is unfair, as it's forcing me into boxes, and I don't wanna go! I HATE BOXES. Protest over. There is a song that I rather dislike that I used to love. It has nothing to do with the song, and everything to do with the artist. I wish it didn't. I'd much rather not know anything about any artist's personal life, so I could keep enjoying their music and books and movies and art.
Well...we're halfway though the 30 Day Song Challenge, so, yay! We're that much closer to being done! But boooo!, I have no idea how to approach Day 15 - A song that describes you. There are a lot of songs that I identify with, but I don't think that's the same thing. Also, I'm not sure that what I think would describe me, and that what others think would describe me would match at all. :) (sigh) So, this is my song. I listen to it every day.
At The Place, I learned there was a reason for my odd, anti-social behavior. I didn't have to be this way.
I even have a label: Adult Child of an Alcoholic. The label comes with a list of symptoms, all of which I had. I fought against it at first. Why me, and not my brother? Because in families of alcoholics, we fill roles. My brother was the 'hero'. I was the 'lost child'. Some people have said to me, "I don't believe in that stuff, Michelle." That's fine, you don't have to! I can only tell you what I know:
I know that I am an extremely repressed person. I've never been able to let go and have fun, ever, ever, in my whole life.
I know that I keep my friends at a distance. I love them, I appreciate them, but I won't answer the phone and I won't return their phone calls. If I do talk to them, they invite me to lunch, I'm always vague...and then I can never make it.
I know that I define the term socially awkward. If it shouldn't be said, I will somehow say it.
I know that I'm a disappointment as a girlfriend. Dwayne's boss had a giant party on his yacht every year, and as a foreman, Dwayne was expected to be there, with...me. Only every year, I wasn't there. I was D's Snuffleupagus.
I know I've suffered from depression and anxiety since I was old enough to know what it was called.
These are all things I can work on, things that I can take medicine for. The big thing was identifying the problem and knowing the issues. I haven't been as successful as I hoped to be since I got out. I had visions of being even better than my old self; not only being busy, but having real friends and not disappointing people for once. That hasn't happened. My depression has slowly eased back, I think. I also think the massive doses of TWO different anti-anxiety meds are doing the trick in regards to public places, because the concert was almost not that bad at all. But I still don't leave my bedroom much except to go to work. I just need to push myself out the door. Just...go.
Okay, well... Not hardly NO ONE, since Dwayne, of course, knows I loved Adam Lambert's version of this song. I think I was the only one watching that night that loved it...at least the only one from the South. I still don't understand how he didn't win, this song aside, because everyone I knew loved him. STILL LOVE HIM!
I have a lot of guilty pleasure songs. LOTS, that I am totally ashamed of. But my biggest guilty pleasure is...
EMINEM. Marshall Mathers. Slim Shady himself. The reason why he's my biggest guilty pleasure? Um...you don't know? Because 1) Guilty: he's been accused of misogyny, bigotry, homophobia, racism, and probably other things I don't know the name of. Because 2) Pleasure: He's been called a songwriting genius by his peers and his critics alike. He has an extraordinary vocabulary and works to expand it daily to make rhymes fit in songs where no one would ever have thought to force a rhyme into that configuration. He's that good. This is a good song and I don't hear any of the bad stuff in it. I still feel very guilty for listening to it and enjoying it every time, so (sigh), I guess I'm just going to keep on doing it! :) It's a guilty pleasure...
I gave y'all ample notice. I dropped several hints. I think I even outright said something like, "My favorite band is Metallica." If you're still here, that must mean Metallica makes YOU as happy as they make ME. Because I know that, to people who don't understand the music, it may just sound like angry angry sad yelling...but when I discovered it 25 years ago, I was 15 years old and it made sense to me. This music was all mine, the first band that I understood and I felt like they understood me. I have quite a dilemma...what song to choose? Hmmm... because later on I'll have to choose a song from my favorite album which is, naturally, a Metallica album...soooo many factors here. Okay then. I'm going with, the title track of their consensus best album Master of Puppets. Enjoy, I know I will! (p.s. The video I picked is from when Metallica decided to record a CD with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra...It's called 'S&M', and it's GLORIOUS, WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL MUSIC they made together.)
(editor's note: there may be some language in this video, so it's not for the faint of heart, sorry:)
Metallica & San Francisco Symphony Orchestra - Master of Puppets
Day 10 of the challenge is a song that makes you fall asleep. Who wants to talk about falling asleep? It just puts people to sleep. So...brevity is key here. This is one of the greatest albums of all time. And it can put me to sleep every night. :)
Let me be very clear. I do not dance. I am incapable. I am emotionally repressed. I will never be able to dance.
I can, however, clog.
For those who don't know, `Clogging is a truly American dance form that began in the Appalachian Mountains and now enjoys widespread popularity throughout the United States and around the world.
As the Appalachians were settled in the mid 1700′s by the Irish, Scottish, English and Dutch-Germans, the folk dances of each area met and began to combine in an impromptu foot-tapping style, the beginning of clog dancing as we know it today. Accompanied by rousing fiddle and bluegrass music, clogging was a means of personal expression in a land of newfound freedoms.
The word “Clog” comes from the Gaelic, and means “time”. Clogging is a dance that is done in time with the music-to the downbeat usually with the heel keeping rhythm (from clogon.com)`.
So, I'm not quite sure how clogging differs from tap, because we both wear tap shoes.
All I know is that I follow direction well, and it is surprisingly easy to memorize a CLOGGING routine.
The infamous stolen song book I still haven't given back to my mother.
I guess it's mine now.
I'm more likely to know the guitar licks to songs - I can identify those immediately. I tend to listen more to the music than to the lyrics. There are a few exceptions... My favorite artists - Metallica, Dolly Parton, Patty Griffin; and new (to me, anyway) artists I might be obsessed with.
The really big exception, however, is any song that was featured in The Book. When we moved to Fort Campbell, my mother somehow became a hippie, and regularly played guitar and sang in the evenings with her friends in our living room. They did songs like 'They Called The Wind Maria' and 'Mr. Tambourine Man', all out of this Magic Book.
The Book was a treasure trove of lyrics - folk lyrics nestled next to old gospel lyrics with chord suggestions written above. I studied The Book obsessively. The songs were fabulous. I wasn't allowed to listen to music like this...except when it was sung and strummed around a circle in my living room, apparently.
When we moved from Fort Campbell to Germany, I happily claimed possession of The Book and never looked back. My mom asked for it a few times. Hmmm...
Example page from The Book with my mom's handwritten chord changes
The most-read page of The Book, the 'Let It Be' page
My younger self discovered 'Let It Be' in The Book. It's the most precious of all Beatles songs to me, I doubt I'll ever forget the words.
When my grandpa decided that he could no longer keep up my grandparent's second property, a 60+ woodland paradise in Central Kentucky, we were all devastated. On our last Labor Day there, I took a kind of farewell journey through the woods with my camera, taking pictures of every magical thing I loved. It's the only time I've ever felt safe walking in the woods by myself...this was OUR land. Most of what we called 'the farm' was really forest, with streams of water running through it, beautiful silent groves appearing in it from out of nowhere, and, in the morning, you could spot deer emerging from it through the window of the cabin. But the previous owners of the property had inexplicably cleared an area in the middle of the forest, maybe to build a house...or a baseball field? Regardless, it had its own beauty, and I took pictures of the field just as I had everything else. Every time I hear 'Fields of Gold', I remember that last beautiful day. 'Fields of Gold' Written by Sting Performed by Eva Cassidy
Mom took this awesome picture at a game we went to in 2006
Sorry, yall. It's officially basketball season. Tonight was Big Blue Madness. I only have one song I can possibly choose. It's the song we sing at the end of every Kentucky basketball game and before every Kentucky Derby. It reminds me of my home. It's 'My Old Kentucky Home', written by Stephen Foster.
Man, this 30 Day Song Challenge has quickly grown into a Commitment, and I hate Commitments!
At first it's all fun and games, your favorite this, happy that, but all of a sudden we're down to the nitty gritty, and I want, no I NEED a month or two to procrastinate about this!
So I guess it's not that I don't like Commitments...I just like to think about things in my own time.
Dwayne and I HAVE been together for more than 17 years, right?! Just, you know, not married, yet. :)
I have been committed to this blog since 2004, right?! With a whole 356 posts to show for it, LOLOLOL!!!!
Sorry, just venting. I always keep my Commitments when I am dumb enough to make them. When my grandparents first got married, my grandpa had a huge painting commissioned of my grandmother sitting on the wall above the Little Laurel River at McHargue's Mill (pictured above) in Levi Jackson State Park in London, KY. My grandpa understood my grandma and her love for Laurel County. He was truly my grandma's soul mate. They were each other's best friend, and they went everywhere together. So, Moma and Popa came back one day from...somewhere, some bluegrass festival, or maybe Renfro Valley, talking about a new duo they'd heard of called Dailey and Vincent, and a song they sang called By The Mark. They made us sit in the family room while they played it for us, over and over. Every time we visited, they played it for us. My grandparents had sort of figured out CDs, but they didn't know about copying them. They bought at least five copies of the same CD...one for the truck, one for the van, one for the living room, one for upstairs, one for downstairs... Jamie Dailey & Darrin Vincent, of course, became a big huge name in bluegrass circles, and my grandparents went to every show they could. The last show they went to, Moma was pretty sick from the chemo, and Jamie & Darrin, who by now recognized Moma and Popa the Super-Fans, were so sweet to her...our whole family is eternally in their debt.
Brilliantly timed, this Day 4 request is. Most Patty Griffin songs break my heart, especially this one.
Her voice filled the theater last night and held each of us spellbound; nobody moved an inch when she stood on stage, all by herself, and sang this song. Quite a few of us had to wipe tears away when she was done. BONUS: Here's my picture from the balcony last night, when she and her three musicians first came out:
Midnight Train to Georgia - Gladys Knight and the Pips
Why does this song make me happy? Because while Gladys Knight is belting the song out, I am very happily singing along in the background as a PIP. Don't you?!!! Haven't you memorized all the parts to sing along back to Gladys? If you haven't, you need to. IT'S FUN. Now I gotta go, BECAUSE I AM AT THE BROWN THEATER IN DOWNTOWN LOUISVILLE TO SEE PATTY GRIFFIN IN CONCERT AND THE SHOW STARTS IN TWO MINUTES!!!
Day 2 of the 30 Day Song Challenge, and wow, talk about going from a high to a low! From my favorite to my least favorite song, hmmm... I try not to dwell on bad things. When there's a song I don't like, I change the station. And really, there's not much I don't like. But there's one song I hate hate hate hate hate, and I tried my hardest to come up with something else so as not to seem like a Grinch - but I couldn't, so here it is: My least favorite song: FELIZ NAVIDAD. Can't stand it. I don't know why. I don't understand why people like it, or why it gets so much airplay, or why it gets remade over and over. Why why why? Every time Christmas season is upon us, I brace myself for the inevitability of this awful, terrible song. (big sigh) For some reason, Chelsea actually likes this song, especially the Glee version. I will admit the Glee version might be the least annoying of the five thousand versions of the song out there today. So enjoy...if you can:
It's widely known that I am a soft touch. I am incapable of saying no. If you ask for me something, I'll give it to you. If I see you need something, I'll share what I have. I am very easy. So, in January, when Chelsea says, Best Friend's dad is kicking him out and he has nowhere to go, can he stay here for a couple days? Of course I said yes. It was cold, and he had nowhere to go. Best Friend is still here. It's October. That's nine months he's been here. NINE MONTHS. Best Friend sleeps on the floor in the living room. When he wakes up, he sits up, gets on his computer, and, still sitting on the floor, plays on his computer all day until it's time to go to sleep. Best Friend does this every day. No job, no school, no cleaning, no cooking. I'm beginning to see why everybody keeps kicking him out. In the meantime, it's been a struggle having to feed an extra person. He eats a lot. He told me a couple of months ago he was transgender. But he never talked to me about it again. Chelsea calls him, her, except for when she forgets and calls him, him. But he didn't ask me to call him, her, or tell me a different name, and he dresses the same. But okay, past tense, he, present tense, her. She's gotten into fights with Chelsea and threatened to leave, has even disappeared for a couple days, leaving Chelsea devastated. Best Friend is supposed to be on medication for schizophrenia but doesn't take it. She says she can't get a job because she has a record that needs to be taken care of but she doesn't have the money. Dwayne is so upset over the situation he is beside himself. I didn't listen to him, you see. He wanted me to say no. He always wants me to say no. We'd be several thousand dollars richer if I could just say no. Well, past tense. Times are hard now and there's no more thousands or even hundreds to give away. :( I don't want Best Friend out on the streets with nowhere to go. That defeats the purpose of her staying here all this time. I've tried to have talks with Best Friend about owning her life, self-sufficiency, and having a plan...but I don't think they've gotten through. THE POINT IS, I really don't mind Best Friend being here...and that's the problem. It's not fair to Dwayne. It's not good for Chelsea. It's not healthy for me - I'm supposed to be working to get out of my bedroom and instead, I'm stuck in here because Best Friend lives in the living room. I suspect there's something in my lease agreement stating Best Friends aren't supposed to stay overnight, indefinitely. This may be silly, but the only thing that really worries me is Best Friend getting upset again, leaving one day, and leaving the door open, where my kitty can get out and get lost. Everyone else is upset over things I don't care about. I just want my kitty to be safe. That's all. It's an unwinnable situation. It seems I truly have adopted a 22-year old child; one who will never work, clean or cook; and will apparently never leave. Please, don't tell me how dumb I am, I tell myself every day. I guess I just felt like telling YOU. :) I'm sure it'll all work out...
The Armchair Squid has inspired me to participate in the 30 Day Song Challenge from years ago. I'm way, way behind the times, here, and I'm not even sure I can do an every day thing, much less come up with something for every category but, hey! I love a challenge. Day 1 - My Favorite Song Favorite songs are hard to choose because they change yearly, monthly, daily...even hourly. So I had to go by method of all-time favorite artist, and then choosing my all-time favorite song was easy. :) Coat of Many Colors by Dolly Parton is the best song ever. Hands down. Dolly goes up there in the annals of American songwriters with Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson. Dolly has written a hundred amazing songs, including one that became the biggest hit in the world, but this autobiographical love song to her mother defines Dolly in just a few simple lines. I can't even imagine how many thousands of times she has sung this song, but every time I hear her sing it, she still sings it with love and grace...you imagine the love for her mother she put into this song; just as Dolly's mother put all her love for Dolly into that patchwork coat. Love makes me happy.
I tend to speak before I think. A LOT. That's why I usually don't talk in public. My mouth gets me in trouble. Well, I also don't speak in public because of the crippling shyness...but I digress. I made a terrible, awful faux pas at work today, which is going to involve me having to apologize to my boss. (Hopefully I will not lose my job. I'm trying to stay positive.) Dwayne has been warning me for years to watch myself at work, and now he's very manfully NOT saying I told you so. He is, however, being his usual comedic self. I asked him for advice on my big apology: Dwayne: Blah blah blah "sorry" blah blah blah. Me: Oh. Dwayne: I know 'sorry' isn't in your vocabulary but I assure you it's a word - I've played it in Words With Friends. Let's practice, "I'm sorry," see, it doesn't hurt. Me: Haha. Dwayne: I'm serious you need to say it over and over to make it believable. Me: OMG. (pause) Me: Okay. I'll practice. It's true. To those who really know me, I'm insufferable. I HAVE to be always right. I HAVE to have the last word. I'm completely obnoxious. I very rarely admit I'm wrong. I'm a bad, bad person. I'm in for a long night of practicing my apology. Years of never saying 'sorry' have caught up to me. Dwayne told me to practice on Chelsea, then he told Chelsea that Mommy has something to say to her. I guess I will start with her. Well, wait a minute, let me start right now. I am sorry.
The two months I spent at The Place were hard. The people there - not only the staff, but my peers, the others like me - held me accountable. They required me to make an effort, every single day, to get better. I had work to do. These day-long sessions would be split up in 1- to 2- hour increments, because they could get very intense. We would take a break, maybe go do some art time or meditation time, and then come back for more peel-back-the-layers of yourself time. Sometimes all I was required to do was listen and offer encouragement. I usually felt relief...the microscope was off of me and I could relax. But as the days went by, I actually found myself offering up pieces of my past that I had never told anyone before, when I thought it might help. The people who came and went while I was there were from all walks of life. People were there for anger issues...two very different people there had matching arm casts for hitting a wall with their fists. Suicidal ideation, auditory hallucinations, depression, referrals from the court. Two of the guys were convicts - one had served time for forging checks, the other for manslaughter. Meeting anyone and everyone at The Place challenged me and reminded me not to make assumptions. Deep down inside, every single one of us that came through the doors of The Place had the same issues - we were afraid. There was something inside all of us - a scared ten-year old girl alone in a foreign country, an eighteen-year old boy who killed someone in self-defense, or a twenty-year old girl who developed a chemical imbalance - that had set up barriers on top of barriers in order to insulate ourselves from feeling. We had all come to a point where we were completely incapable of dealing with anything at all, because we were so busy protecting that something inside of us.
I was at The Place longer than most people. I saw a lot of my friends come after me and go before me...some before they were ready. I wasn't exactly better when I was finally released to 'real life' again, but I had a much better handle on things. I knew why I'd struggled with depression most of my life. I knew why my grandmother's death had been such a trigger for me. I knew how to recognize if I was falling again and what I should do if it happened. I'm still working on the rest. Pretty sure this will be my last of The Place posts...I think, anyway. Thanks for listening y'all.
My migraine has taken on a level of Spock/Horta-wailing "Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaain". I'm thinking emergency room at this point. So. Um. How's things? Earlier this weekend my mind was full of possible journal entries...but now it's a blank slate.
That's the power of mind-numbing pain PLUS mind-numbing drugs for you. It empties your brain. In other words, it makes you dumb. Good night, smart people. I used to be one of you. Maybe one day, I will be again...
I always knew getting better is a step forward, step backward kind of thing. It's just times like these when I see no future and I don't want to remember the past... Anyway.
Falling down, getting up.
I know someone's out there living a life full of joy.
That makes me smile, though I'm not presently able to have that kind of life myself.
Tonight Chelsea and I watched the second Beatles episode of 'Glee'. She didn't know most of the songs featured, in either of the episodes, which shocked me a little. I mean, The Beatles broke up before I was born, too, so 'before her time' is not a good excuse!
But the big surprise came during the last song..."Let It Be".
Chelsea didn't know it.
I didn't believe it. I truly thought she was joking. She's twenty-one years old, and she doesn't know "Let It Be"?
I've sung that song to myself countless times, during the darkest hours of my life. I memorized the lyrics long ago, when I was eight years old and took my mom's folk/guitar book and never gave it back. Singing that song would ease an ache in my soul that I was too young then to recognize for what it was. It still helps me today.
I tried to bring my kid up right. We watched Star Trek. We watched UK basketball. We listened to Metallica. We listened to Dolly Parton. We watched Doctor Who. And I know, I know, I know that we listened to The Beatles.
Some things didn't stick, apparently. She won't even consider watching basketball now. She doesn't know a thing about Star Trek. The Beatles, I guess, were blocked right out of her mind.
This is what I would want someone who is open-minded, which is not my daughter right now, to know about The Beatles:
The lyrics to "Across The Universe" are probably the most beautiful, evocative and bittersweet you could find in a song. And also...hallucinogenic.
The opening guitar sequence on "Revolution" is different from "I Saw Her Standing There", which is different from "I Want To Hold Your Hand". Every Beatles song is unique and instantly recognizable.
Lennon & McCartney became a songwriting machine and the undisputed champions of the world. No one else can touch them. Not even Eminem. ... And the less glamorous Harrison and Starr contributed, too, most notably with "Here Comes The Sun" and "With A Little Help From My Friends" (well, Ringo actually just sang that, but still!).
12 albums, 10 years. It doesn't matter if you 'don't like The Beatles'. They came together for a time and did a magical thing. :) Can you imagine if there had been no Beatles?
It's just a thought...but it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, some members of Congress might be a little out of touch with what it's like to be, um, normal.
Okay, no jokes about me not being normal! Haha, I get that a lot. You KNOW what I mean.
By not passing the spending bill, my friend Lorie, who works for the Census, will not get her paycheck. She's like most of us - she lives week to week.
She can file for unemployment...by going to the government because she's laid off by the government. This is bureaucracy at its finest. And revoking the healthcare bill? Now? My insurance has already gone up due to the healthcare bill. Astronomically so. It's a done deal. Is Congress TRYING to make things worse for me?
Not to mention Dwayne, who has no insurance, is laid off from his job, is in a wheelchair, and has a pre-existing condition, thereby making it impossible for him to get insurance. He has been looking forward to the magic date of October 1 for months.
(sigh) One last thing... I guess CONGRESS is too busy to watch the National Zoo pandas every night like all us normal people. Just one more thing they've taken away from me...
RANT OVER.
In other news:
1. I got my Patty Griffin tickets. Oct.15, Brown Theater. I am a very happy girl.
2. I spontaneously decided to go with my mom yesterday to get my hair cut. For the first time in ten years, I stepped into a salon. They cut five inches off and layered it. I was devastated. 3. No one else could even tell I'd gotten it cut. 4. Dwayne said something like, 'Ten feet of hair with five inches cut off is still ten feet of hair.' 5. Dwayne is very wise. That is all.
