Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
11.18.2009
ART AMISS 11 Music Compilation CD - FREE!
Art Amiss is a night that happens once a year here in Fayetteville where Arkansas musicians, artists and fashion forward showcase their art/talent. The first 200 through the Dickson Street Theater doors received a compilation CD of local musicians. I got one and listened to it. Let me just say that it certainly is a mix. Anyway, to toot the horns of a few of the bands I like 'round here, here is a link to KXUA's blog where you can click on the ART AMISS 11 Music Compilation link to download the zipped folder of some of our local goodness. Enjoy!
8.18.2009
Last Saturday Night
We start out late with our sights set on food. We're about to eat hours later than we usually do. At Hugo's, we score and find a parking spot right out front. We share a "two-table" as we who have waited on them call them. Blast. The college-kind are back. It must be work week for the Greek kids. No wonder this place looks so different tonight. No wonder Dickson seemed a little disjointed, a little less flow tonight.
We order and remind ourselves to be. The round table next to us, by the door, seats three younger girls. Two guys soon join them. One guy talks loudly and I subliminally try to send messages to the girls to feel the freedom to not laugh at him, because he's not funny. Get out while you can, I think to them. You're not doing him any favors by laughing at that. You're right, it's not funny.
Our fries were not like they usually are. They're all tid-bits with crunchy edges. We feel like we got what was left at the bottom of the deep fried wire basket. Everything else, though, is good.
We score again and find another parking spot on Dickson. It's time for a stroll, a lolly-gag about town starting from the top and working our way down and around. Looking for places for where they used to be becomes a theme, the theme for the night, even.
We pass one seedy bar with a bouncer wearing a t-shirt that says, "Free Sex." The front wall is raised and inside a rough-around-the-edges mid-life-ish couple make-out with her sitting in a bar stool while he stands beside her, all to the tune of Bonnie Rait, maybe. I can't remember. Passing the next bar, faces are looking out at the street, waiting to be noticed. Old TLC plays, maybe. I can't remember that either. Inside, the muscles are big in men's shirts and faces are red. Hair is done.
We round the block to check out a couple newer places we haven't been to but have heard about. One place we look at from the street and can't see much, but the inside seems spacious, dark and empty and that's all we can tell. Right next to it is a new bar with neon letters and we hear Diddy, maybe. Hard to tell, but from what we can, not our scene either. We've been walking around for a while now.
Having made a complete circle, we're back on Dickson. I find a narrow staircase between two brick buildings and sit while we talk a while. The watching is so distracting. I think things that are critical and am not understanding how people find and fit with each other. As we watch and as we talk, I ask him, "What would you do if your mother dressed that way when you were in college?"
On the first loop through, we'd passed our destination and noticed that it was fuller than it's been all summer. We're back now. Glad there's still no cover, my I.D. was checked. Yes, college kids are back. It's also a CD release party for one of the bands in the lineup. It's a squeeze in there. My arms are drawn to me as I thread through the crowd.
Some time passes and we are looking for a table or a place to rest up against until the band we'd come to see starts to set up. I'd turned my ankle in my tall shoes in the parking lot earlier. I've done this a thousand times but still, I want to rest before I stand for a while.
We found the "J" table. Seats are empty but drinks are there and seem fresh. We are asked if we have names that start with J. We don't. I ask if the empty seats are free for a while. I become Janie. He becomes Jasper. She, Jane, is not a stranger anymore and is in the stage of the night where, for her, she talks freely and touches strangers as we talk about Twilight. I don't know it and can only mostly listen. My J-name at the J-table is wearing me out.
We see our friends we'd expected to meet there. Glad for an out from the J-table, I walk over to the bar and greet my friend. He looks down at my black and white shoes with brightly-painted toe nails peeping out and thinks my shoes are kitty cats. It's a funny moment. He introduces me to one of the guys in the band we're there for. I recognize some of his band-mates from a band I'd seen play in college, Skirt.
We're migrating to find a spot toward the front now. It's hot, it's people thick and we're looking for a place with access to some air. We'll miss the J-table for that. I'm leaning up against a door frame and Chris walks up. He says, "Hi, I'm Chris," and offers his hand to shake. I shake it. There's a pause. "I'm Elizabeth," I offer with a smile. Another pause. Chris says, "So, what's your plan?" I'm not sure what he means and so I think for a second and then say, "To find a great spot for the show," while I smile and nod my head. I believe he said, "Good plan." I agree by nodding my head again and then he moves on.
The show is about to start. Bodies are packing in. Guitars are being tuned. "Check. Check." The base drum thumps, the cymbals snare.
After the music, we're on the screened back porch and I look to talk with my friend. She's in a conversation with someone so we found a corner and talk with Jeff. When I come back to tell her that we're about to head, she's talking to someone I used to know from Little Rock and it's been probably fourteen years since I'd seen him last. He was my boyfriend's best friend in those days. I know too much about him and probably vice versa.
Making our way through the people back to the front door to leave, it's late. We walk back up Dickson Street to our car. Passing the piano bar, there's a line outside to get into it. Apparently there's a dance club now in the basement. "I can't imagine wanting to do that in college," I say. Not the dance club part, the piano bar part.
Driving home, we talk and try to imagine ourselves in the different venues Dickson Street offered to us throughout the night. I guess there's something for everybody, ya know? The only thing about our place, we decide, is that we wish it had a bigger stage. That, and, they'd run out of Olde Style's.
We order and remind ourselves to be. The round table next to us, by the door, seats three younger girls. Two guys soon join them. One guy talks loudly and I subliminally try to send messages to the girls to feel the freedom to not laugh at him, because he's not funny. Get out while you can, I think to them. You're not doing him any favors by laughing at that. You're right, it's not funny.
Our fries were not like they usually are. They're all tid-bits with crunchy edges. We feel like we got what was left at the bottom of the deep fried wire basket. Everything else, though, is good.
We score again and find another parking spot on Dickson. It's time for a stroll, a lolly-gag about town starting from the top and working our way down and around. Looking for places for where they used to be becomes a theme, the theme for the night, even.
We pass one seedy bar with a bouncer wearing a t-shirt that says, "Free Sex." The front wall is raised and inside a rough-around-the-edges mid-life-ish couple make-out with her sitting in a bar stool while he stands beside her, all to the tune of Bonnie Rait, maybe. I can't remember. Passing the next bar, faces are looking out at the street, waiting to be noticed. Old TLC plays, maybe. I can't remember that either. Inside, the muscles are big in men's shirts and faces are red. Hair is done.
We round the block to check out a couple newer places we haven't been to but have heard about. One place we look at from the street and can't see much, but the inside seems spacious, dark and empty and that's all we can tell. Right next to it is a new bar with neon letters and we hear Diddy, maybe. Hard to tell, but from what we can, not our scene either. We've been walking around for a while now.
Having made a complete circle, we're back on Dickson. I find a narrow staircase between two brick buildings and sit while we talk a while. The watching is so distracting. I think things that are critical and am not understanding how people find and fit with each other. As we watch and as we talk, I ask him, "What would you do if your mother dressed that way when you were in college?"
On the first loop through, we'd passed our destination and noticed that it was fuller than it's been all summer. We're back now. Glad there's still no cover, my I.D. was checked. Yes, college kids are back. It's also a CD release party for one of the bands in the lineup. It's a squeeze in there. My arms are drawn to me as I thread through the crowd.
Some time passes and we are looking for a table or a place to rest up against until the band we'd come to see starts to set up. I'd turned my ankle in my tall shoes in the parking lot earlier. I've done this a thousand times but still, I want to rest before I stand for a while.
We found the "J" table. Seats are empty but drinks are there and seem fresh. We are asked if we have names that start with J. We don't. I ask if the empty seats are free for a while. I become Janie. He becomes Jasper. She, Jane, is not a stranger anymore and is in the stage of the night where, for her, she talks freely and touches strangers as we talk about Twilight. I don't know it and can only mostly listen. My J-name at the J-table is wearing me out.
We see our friends we'd expected to meet there. Glad for an out from the J-table, I walk over to the bar and greet my friend. He looks down at my black and white shoes with brightly-painted toe nails peeping out and thinks my shoes are kitty cats. It's a funny moment. He introduces me to one of the guys in the band we're there for. I recognize some of his band-mates from a band I'd seen play in college, Skirt.
We're migrating to find a spot toward the front now. It's hot, it's people thick and we're looking for a place with access to some air. We'll miss the J-table for that. I'm leaning up against a door frame and Chris walks up. He says, "Hi, I'm Chris," and offers his hand to shake. I shake it. There's a pause. "I'm Elizabeth," I offer with a smile. Another pause. Chris says, "So, what's your plan?" I'm not sure what he means and so I think for a second and then say, "To find a great spot for the show," while I smile and nod my head. I believe he said, "Good plan." I agree by nodding my head again and then he moves on.
The show is about to start. Bodies are packing in. Guitars are being tuned. "Check. Check." The base drum thumps, the cymbals snare.
After the music, we're on the screened back porch and I look to talk with my friend. She's in a conversation with someone so we found a corner and talk with Jeff. When I come back to tell her that we're about to head, she's talking to someone I used to know from Little Rock and it's been probably fourteen years since I'd seen him last. He was my boyfriend's best friend in those days. I know too much about him and probably vice versa.
Making our way through the people back to the front door to leave, it's late. We walk back up Dickson Street to our car. Passing the piano bar, there's a line outside to get into it. Apparently there's a dance club now in the basement. "I can't imagine wanting to do that in college," I say. Not the dance club part, the piano bar part.
Driving home, we talk and try to imagine ourselves in the different venues Dickson Street offered to us throughout the night. I guess there's something for everybody, ya know? The only thing about our place, we decide, is that we wish it had a bigger stage. That, and, they'd run out of Olde Style's.
8.11.2009
It Might Get Loud
Since yesterday's Music Monday post was not so much about some tunes but about me and some tunes, here's a little somethin' to get you Music Lovers excited. Check it.
7.30.2009
A "Come Together" "Let it Be" Kind of Day
For like the last week, I've stayed up too late and recent mornings have come a little cruel. My sleep-deprived mind wants to get things started even when the rest of me is sayin' another hour or two of sleep is what I really need. I'm getting over a cold, I've been reading a good book set in Leningrad during WWII, and that coupled the recent posting of pictures from a year I spent overseas in Estonia, has my mind in crazy places. I'm a wee run down. Even my silly old mind, and stuff.
So, this morning started off with a snugly blanket of blah. The coffee couldn't get there quick enough and when it did, blah. It's the end of the month and we're low on groceries. Wyatt, my baby, but not so much a baby anymore kind of decided to potty train this week, for the love. This is a good thing, but a consuming thing. Y'all know how it goes.
Deciding it was time to at least remedy the grocery situation, we headed to Sam's. Three of us ate lunch for under five bucks. I'd heard rain was on the way today so we got on with it. After I wiped the cinnamon sugar grit off my boys' hands and cheeks, we shopped. It was a big trip. I bought Pull-Ups for Wyatt. I was kind of sad that I think I bought my last box of diapers last time and didn't know it would be my last time. Samples were at every corner, but none of it looked good to me. I was proud of Thomas who used his manners and said his "may I's" and "thank you's." Even Wyatt did too, usually with a friendly wave goodbye.
The cart was full, the list fulfilled and as I found a spot in a check-out lane, I noticed that the sound of the place had changed. I thought it was the big daddy air conditioners coming on to do their job in cooling that massive place off. Nope. Rain. Lots of gulleywashin' rain. The girl handed me my ticket and I turned around and saw nothin' but rain.
Well, now it's nap time, so we need to get home. The parking lot is full of inch-deep rain puddles. People are gathering in the front to wait it out. I found a spot right along with them to do the same. How in the world, I think, am I going to get these kids and these groceries to the car?
And then, a lady in a Mr. Burger uniform runs in, drenched. Once inside, she looks at me, pats her hair and smiles. It's pointless to fix it. She even laughed a little. I sympathetically smiled back in the "yes, it sure got ya, hon" kind of way. She smiles even bigger and walks on.
Then, two capri-pants, flip flop-wearing ladies in their mid-thirties, I'd say, come up to the store opening to assess. They're friends and talk kind of loudly that they're about to run for it. They laugh and bolt through the parking lot soaking their hair-sprayed hair-dos. Two good ole boys coming up behind me watch this whole thing and those ladies get soaked and they started laughing. Everyone was laughing. No one was grumbling, I noticed.
So, I'm still waiting. I watch a few more come and go. Then, a mother with two boys, both a little older, comes up and taps me. She says, "Do you need me to watch them so you can go get the car?" I don't know why, but that was so sweet to me I almost wanted to start crying. I looked at the boys and Thomas looked at her oldest son, sizing him up. I said, "Thank you so much. That would be a huge help."
She introduces herself to my kids, I take another look back and squat next to Thomas and tell him this lady is here to watch him while I run and go get the car and I asked him to "watch Wyatt" for me. He's all for it.
I sprint through the parking lot full of puddles in my Chacos and capri jeans. My gray t-shirt, toes and arms are wet by the time I get to the car. As I backed up, my heart was pumping and I felt adrenaline rushing through me. I pulled up to the front of the store and geared up to hop back out again and grab the boys, one by one. I got them both buckled in and then ... there were the groceries. So, on trip number three back into Sam's, I grab the basket and wheel it to the back where I'd popped the back window. I start unloading. By now, the cardboard boxes of Pull-ups, oatmeal, razors, etc. are pimpling with water saturation and I am no longer wet, I'm soaked. One more sprint back into the store to return the cart and then I'm in the car, strapping myself in.
Deep breath had, we're ready to go home now. At the stop light, I touch my iPod screen and it scrolls to the Beatles. Great. Sounds great to me. I push play.
Thankfully, my boys really are pretty good in the car. They don't say much, they listen to music well, and watch out the windows, typically. "Let it Be" comes on and Mr. McCartney's preaching at me now. I'm not gonna lie, I'm singin' too. Don't be embarrassed for me, I live out in the country.
On the drive I was thinking back over my experience at Sam's and how it felt like everyone had just "Come Together" and those lyrics (although not so much about coming together the way I'd experienced it at Sam's) and song play in perfect soulful key in my mind. And now through my speakers, "Let it Be" was up almost as high as my volume would let it go. It really was a "Come Together" "Let it Be" kind of day, I thought to myself. And that was just what I needed.
Here are the lyrics to "Let it Be." Have yourself a read:
When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, .....
And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, .....
So, this morning started off with a snugly blanket of blah. The coffee couldn't get there quick enough and when it did, blah. It's the end of the month and we're low on groceries. Wyatt, my baby, but not so much a baby anymore kind of decided to potty train this week, for the love. This is a good thing, but a consuming thing. Y'all know how it goes.
Deciding it was time to at least remedy the grocery situation, we headed to Sam's. Three of us ate lunch for under five bucks. I'd heard rain was on the way today so we got on with it. After I wiped the cinnamon sugar grit off my boys' hands and cheeks, we shopped. It was a big trip. I bought Pull-Ups for Wyatt. I was kind of sad that I think I bought my last box of diapers last time and didn't know it would be my last time. Samples were at every corner, but none of it looked good to me. I was proud of Thomas who used his manners and said his "may I's" and "thank you's." Even Wyatt did too, usually with a friendly wave goodbye.
The cart was full, the list fulfilled and as I found a spot in a check-out lane, I noticed that the sound of the place had changed. I thought it was the big daddy air conditioners coming on to do their job in cooling that massive place off. Nope. Rain. Lots of gulleywashin' rain. The girl handed me my ticket and I turned around and saw nothin' but rain.
Well, now it's nap time, so we need to get home. The parking lot is full of inch-deep rain puddles. People are gathering in the front to wait it out. I found a spot right along with them to do the same. How in the world, I think, am I going to get these kids and these groceries to the car?
And then, a lady in a Mr. Burger uniform runs in, drenched. Once inside, she looks at me, pats her hair and smiles. It's pointless to fix it. She even laughed a little. I sympathetically smiled back in the "yes, it sure got ya, hon" kind of way. She smiles even bigger and walks on.
Then, two capri-pants, flip flop-wearing ladies in their mid-thirties, I'd say, come up to the store opening to assess. They're friends and talk kind of loudly that they're about to run for it. They laugh and bolt through the parking lot soaking their hair-sprayed hair-dos. Two good ole boys coming up behind me watch this whole thing and those ladies get soaked and they started laughing. Everyone was laughing. No one was grumbling, I noticed.
So, I'm still waiting. I watch a few more come and go. Then, a mother with two boys, both a little older, comes up and taps me. She says, "Do you need me to watch them so you can go get the car?" I don't know why, but that was so sweet to me I almost wanted to start crying. I looked at the boys and Thomas looked at her oldest son, sizing him up. I said, "Thank you so much. That would be a huge help."
She introduces herself to my kids, I take another look back and squat next to Thomas and tell him this lady is here to watch him while I run and go get the car and I asked him to "watch Wyatt" for me. He's all for it.
I sprint through the parking lot full of puddles in my Chacos and capri jeans. My gray t-shirt, toes and arms are wet by the time I get to the car. As I backed up, my heart was pumping and I felt adrenaline rushing through me. I pulled up to the front of the store and geared up to hop back out again and grab the boys, one by one. I got them both buckled in and then ... there were the groceries. So, on trip number three back into Sam's, I grab the basket and wheel it to the back where I'd popped the back window. I start unloading. By now, the cardboard boxes of Pull-ups, oatmeal, razors, etc. are pimpling with water saturation and I am no longer wet, I'm soaked. One more sprint back into the store to return the cart and then I'm in the car, strapping myself in.
Deep breath had, we're ready to go home now. At the stop light, I touch my iPod screen and it scrolls to the Beatles. Great. Sounds great to me. I push play.
Thankfully, my boys really are pretty good in the car. They don't say much, they listen to music well, and watch out the windows, typically. "Let it Be" comes on and Mr. McCartney's preaching at me now. I'm not gonna lie, I'm singin' too. Don't be embarrassed for me, I live out in the country.
On the drive I was thinking back over my experience at Sam's and how it felt like everyone had just "Come Together" and those lyrics (although not so much about coming together the way I'd experienced it at Sam's) and song play in perfect soulful key in my mind. And now through my speakers, "Let it Be" was up almost as high as my volume would let it go. It really was a "Come Together" "Let it Be" kind of day, I thought to myself. And that was just what I needed.
Here are the lyrics to "Let it Be." Have yourself a read:
When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, .....
And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, .....
7.09.2009
7.02.2009
Off to Gulley We Go
Last month, we packed an outdoor blanket, drinks, our camping chairs and a 9x13 dish of freshly made Rice Krispies Treats for the boys first "Concert in the Park" put on by Gulley Park here in Fayetteville. We took Thomas as a baby and have gone since, but have gotten babysitters for shows we really wanted to see because it can be a lot of work to coral two spunky and curious little boys. So, this was the first time all four of us have gone.
What an interesting study of our two kids to take them to something like this. Besides little things we've noticed here and there, we're just now really being able to tell about their differences, their distinctness. Here's what I found that night:
Thomas thought it was loud and plugged his ears, a little irritated. He wanted to go play.
Wyatt, loving every loud minute of it, just about hopped the fence to get to the band.
What an interesting study of our two kids to take them to something like this. Besides little things we've noticed here and there, we're just now really being able to tell about their differences, their distinctness. Here's what I found that night:
Thomas thought it was loud and plugged his ears, a little irritated. He wanted to go play.
Wyatt, loving every loud minute of it, just about hopped the fence to get to the band.4.10.2009
And She Stuck the Landing
After the ice storm in February, we thought my hp laptop had bit the dust. It suddenly refused to dial-up and connect to the Internet and threw such a fit about it, I thought she was a goner forever and ever and that Wall-E might find the old girl centuries from now, harvest her for her parts and then use the rest of her to add to the skyscraper mountains of trash in the land of Large & Plenty. However, through that whole debacle, I learned a little something about myself. Learning something about oneself is always risky, sometimes painful, almost always okay once you're on the other side of it and occasionally, it's kind of great. I learned that I had gotten stuck.
You see, this old girl, having a tendency to be gritty, frugal and thrifty, had accepted that dialing-up was just the way it was for me. Since we moved three years ago and have no cable access out here, we didn't have the chance to use high-speed, even if we wanted to. We could have paid for satellite, like many of our neighbors, but I just felt it wasn't necessary.
Thankfully, the husband stepped in and saw a bigger picture. Not only did he see that a lot of my connectedness to the outside world was through my computer, he upgraded me. I'm a mom, I stay at home, we live out of the way and when you put all those things together with no computer access, you have a slightly isolated Mama-doops. Stubbornly, just like I was trying to stay here for so many days without power after the ice storm, I felt as if I could handle my new situation and make the best of it. Or, at least I was telling myself that. It was like an unintentional fast.
Christian came home one February afternoon with an AT&T wireless connect card, thus bypassing dialing up. It rocked this girl's world. Flippin' flip, it was wonderful. It was slow at first and had some issues, but I was okay with the dependability issue because I was connected to the "out there." I was back!
For over two years, we had terrible cell phone service as well. If someone wanted to get a hold of me, they had to call my home phone like people did before cellular devices. And once again, I really was fine with it. However, not long ago, when we saw power trucks coming down our county road headed up the hill to erect a cell phone tower one lovely day, I held loosely. They had been telling us it was coming for three years. I am happy to announce that they did turn the cell tower on several months ago allowing cell service like it ought to be AND just in the last couple weeks, our cell tower has 3G. For the love!
Since having all this at my fingertips like the rest of you have probably had for years, I was transformed. I could pull up mp3's and listen to them. A band's mySpace page loaded like lightening and began singing at me from the computer screen. Hoorah! Even going to someones Facebook page was a rarity before because I usually didn't have the time to wait for it to load. And now, it's all right here in my lap, err, laptop, I should say. I see picture upon picture, read article upon article, YouTube will load ... Holy cow.
So, my first love is really and truly music. This is another one of those areas of myself I put on the back burner mostly because I had a kiddo, and now two, and live music became a delicacy. (There's more behind this, but, ah...another time another day? Who am I kidding?) I wouldn't trade my kiddos or my current circumstances for the world and just like the other rants up there, I just had become almost fine with not being the first to hear the new sounds. I say almost because it always nagged at me ... always.
Anyway, getting sort of "unstuck" has been like a breath of fresh air. I have an appetite for what I love again and it sits so well with my soul. I even dusted off (literally) my old guitar and got my pick out and tried to tune by ear the other day. I'm rusty and I've got to buy a new tuner. But, you know what? I'm okay with buying it now. The reason why is because it is something I love and it's so good for me to hold that plastic Fender pick and re-develop those callouses I used to have with pride. Christian even threw looking for an old piano to refurbish out on the table this last week. If only you could see my tap dance.
You see, this old girl, having a tendency to be gritty, frugal and thrifty, had accepted that dialing-up was just the way it was for me. Since we moved three years ago and have no cable access out here, we didn't have the chance to use high-speed, even if we wanted to. We could have paid for satellite, like many of our neighbors, but I just felt it wasn't necessary.
Thankfully, the husband stepped in and saw a bigger picture. Not only did he see that a lot of my connectedness to the outside world was through my computer, he upgraded me. I'm a mom, I stay at home, we live out of the way and when you put all those things together with no computer access, you have a slightly isolated Mama-doops. Stubbornly, just like I was trying to stay here for so many days without power after the ice storm, I felt as if I could handle my new situation and make the best of it. Or, at least I was telling myself that. It was like an unintentional fast.
Christian came home one February afternoon with an AT&T wireless connect card, thus bypassing dialing up. It rocked this girl's world. Flippin' flip, it was wonderful. It was slow at first and had some issues, but I was okay with the dependability issue because I was connected to the "out there." I was back!
For over two years, we had terrible cell phone service as well. If someone wanted to get a hold of me, they had to call my home phone like people did before cellular devices. And once again, I really was fine with it. However, not long ago, when we saw power trucks coming down our county road headed up the hill to erect a cell phone tower one lovely day, I held loosely. They had been telling us it was coming for three years. I am happy to announce that they did turn the cell tower on several months ago allowing cell service like it ought to be AND just in the last couple weeks, our cell tower has 3G. For the love!
Since having all this at my fingertips like the rest of you have probably had for years, I was transformed. I could pull up mp3's and listen to them. A band's mySpace page loaded like lightening and began singing at me from the computer screen. Hoorah! Even going to someones Facebook page was a rarity before because I usually didn't have the time to wait for it to load. And now, it's all right here in my lap, err, laptop, I should say. I see picture upon picture, read article upon article, YouTube will load ... Holy cow.
So, my first love is really and truly music. This is another one of those areas of myself I put on the back burner mostly because I had a kiddo, and now two, and live music became a delicacy. (There's more behind this, but, ah...another time another day? Who am I kidding?) I wouldn't trade my kiddos or my current circumstances for the world and just like the other rants up there, I just had become almost fine with not being the first to hear the new sounds. I say almost because it always nagged at me ... always.
Anyway, getting sort of "unstuck" has been like a breath of fresh air. I have an appetite for what I love again and it sits so well with my soul. I even dusted off (literally) my old guitar and got my pick out and tried to tune by ear the other day. I'm rusty and I've got to buy a new tuner. But, you know what? I'm okay with buying it now. The reason why is because it is something I love and it's so good for me to hold that plastic Fender pick and re-develop those callouses I used to have with pride. Christian even threw looking for an old piano to refurbish out on the table this last week. If only you could see my tap dance.
3.06.2009
U2 vs. PBS
Oh man, I love my kiddo, Thomas. Fridays are our 'free' day around here. We have nowhere to be, unless we want to, and it's our special day to get to watch the tube, lounge in our pj's for way too long and later on today, gear up for our 4 yr. shots. Although I don't get a chance to as much anymore (or really ever) because we always have somewhere to be on most weekday mornings, I like to start my day with some GMA on ABC. Today, U2 was playing live from Fordham University in the Bronx, NY. I love U2. I always have, I always will. They are just the definition of a good rock band.
When I asked Thomas if he would rather watch PBS's cool reading show that he loves, Super Why?, or his other favorite cartoon, Toot and Puddle, he said, "nothing," which means neither. I thought surely he wanted to watch one or the other because they are both his favorites. He said, "This, Mama!" It was live U2 singing from their album released this week! He said, "This music." For the love! Jaw dropped and trying to stay chill, I said, "Okay buddy. Do you like this music?" He responded, "I do. I really do."
To know that he already loves music like I do just sends me. He even sat to watch the interview with Bono, The Edge, Larry and Adam. So far, these are his favorite songs. Sweetness, Jimmy Eat World, I Will Overcome, Charlie Hall, The Car Song (I call it this because I don't know the real name), Arlo Gurhtrie and Forever Young, Bob Dylan. He asks for I Will Overcome and Sweetness to be "wowder" which means louder. He's also likes Hillsong United. I love ya buddy! You're the greatest.
When I asked Thomas if he would rather watch PBS's cool reading show that he loves, Super Why?, or his other favorite cartoon, Toot and Puddle, he said, "nothing," which means neither. I thought surely he wanted to watch one or the other because they are both his favorites. He said, "This, Mama!" It was live U2 singing from their album released this week! He said, "This music." For the love! Jaw dropped and trying to stay chill, I said, "Okay buddy. Do you like this music?" He responded, "I do. I really do."
To know that he already loves music like I do just sends me. He even sat to watch the interview with Bono, The Edge, Larry and Adam. So far, these are his favorite songs. Sweetness, Jimmy Eat World, I Will Overcome, Charlie Hall, The Car Song (I call it this because I don't know the real name), Arlo Gurhtrie and Forever Young, Bob Dylan. He asks for I Will Overcome and Sweetness to be "wowder" which means louder. He's also likes Hillsong United. I love ya buddy! You're the greatest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
