7/2/13

The Soundtrack of My Life

My musical library has been expanding and contracting significantly in the last few months.  Lacking any major musical talent (I can play the piano and I don’t hurt people’s ears when I sing) I am primarily a patron of music.

My exposure to and history with music is a relationship timeline, life event processing tool, and bridge to friendship. 

As I meet new people I find that it is often our taste in music that creates bonds and helps me relate.  When I hear a friend put on a song that I was not expecting them to know it always floors me – not because I have superior musical taste or anything, but that some relationship or event brought that song into their life as it did mine.  A single song can make me a friend for life.

The other day Niya, Hush and I were in the car tooling around.  The Doors’ “Break on Through” came on and we all passed into revelries of how we became familiar with them and why The Doors were important in our lives.  For me the Doors remind me of three hour drives to Tahoe at dawn when I was about ten years old with my brother Nate in the front seat, Dad driving, and all my siblings sleeping around me.  I certainly don’t think anyone in the car believed they were creating a personality defining memory, but watching my older brother air drum along with the Doors infused in me a desire to be on the pathway to “cool,” because let’s face it, Jim Morrison is pretty much the embodiment of cool.  It took some development, but I think at least musically I was fortunate enough to be gifted coolness through music – the Doors, they may be flattered to know, were my musical entry drug.  I don’t remember the first time I heard them because they were the subliminal soundtrack of my childhood and I loved them by default.

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At The Commune, June 2013

 

 

I hit middle school and gained access to my first CD’s right at the time when the early 90’s new wave was tanking out and grunge exploded with Nirvana, Red Hot Chili Peppers and also Green Day.  Underground cool jumped to “selling out” and these pretty badass bands were the fare that complimented the Doors, the Police and the Rolling Stones (that I became interested in at the same time because my dad took my older siblings to see them and I learned I should be jealous), and of course the Beatles my mother blared while she did the dishes.  I remember on significantly validating moment of my youth was when my older brother noticed a Chili Pepper’s symbol I’d drawn on one of my notebooks in sixth grade and said, “How do YOU know them?  Right on.” 

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Learning music takes research and time, though.  If I was going to get a little bit of credibility musically I had to know those bands inside and out.  I think initially the cart came before the horse and I was seeking out bands because they were cool, but because my musical taste had been established by the Doors it’s easy for me to understand the progression of my preferences.  The Doors were my tuning fork.

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And then Kurt Cobain died in 1994.  I remember reading about it that morning in the paper because that’s the only reading material available at the table.  It was a huge deal, though before his death he was a minor celebrity.  Post death he gained Hendrix level fame.  But the event promoted this parent-hated music into a respectable art form.  I could even play In Utero in my mom’s car on the way to school.

At school the Top 100 was really varied.  It ranged from Guns and Roses’ November Rain to Boyz II Men.  Exposure influences taste, so I guess I have Boyz II Men to thank for leading me eventually to Jay Z and Kanye.  And, of course, Madonna was covering all the pop basics with the Immaculate Collection.

What do we have so far?  Classic Rock, second-wave punk, pop, grunge, R&B, 90’s alternative.

Then came high school.  I became friends with some hippies and hippies in the 90’s listened to the Grateful Dead, Phish, Pink Floyd, Lou Reed, and a bit of Bowie. Thank the Lord for the hippies or I’d have squandered my Doors tuning on the Macarena and Mariah Carey.

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With the basics of my musical DNA in place, I started filling in the gaps.  I loved Lou Reed’s ‘Satellite of Love’ so off I’d go to learn about the Velvet Underground.  I dug ‘Ripple’ by the Dead so I went off to find Janis Joplin and Bob Dylan.  Where the hell did David Bowie come from?  Better go learn about Iggy Pop and Queen.  Green Day is second wave punk?  Off to find first wave punk Sex Pistols and the Clash (and fall deeply in love with this genre of music.  Punk is in my soul).

And so it goes. 

Of course there are the random throw ins that, for me, are unassociated with other bands.  I learned to dance in the family room listening to Thriller on vinyl.  I know every word to ABBA’s greatest hits.  Johnny Cash’s outlaw country reminds me of my mother rocking out in yellow gloves in the kitchen.  I know Rubber Soul because it was the only tape my grandmother owned.  The Smiths remind me of a terrifying ride through the sugar cane fields of Hawaii with my scary brother in a jeep. 

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Is that six members of my family doing the Thriller Dance?  Yes it is.

I think my most memorable musical event was going to a concert at the famous Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco.  The Monkees were playing, it was the early 2000’s some time and my dad and I went to see them, just the two of us.  While Davy Jones and the other dude rocked out on stage my dad took me to the upstairs room where all the old school concert posters hang in order of performance.  He went through and pointed to all the concerts he had seen there: Hendrix, Creedence, Joplin.  I went to the other side of the room and pointed out a few of the bands I’d seen there since I’d been allowed to go to concerts.  The soundtrack of his life had become the starting point of mine.

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Jim.

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Mimi and Jude dancing in the psychedelic 60’s room to the Grateful Dead.

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When we rock we rock hard.

This week the songs that struck the right chords were:

Paper Planes  -MIA

Moonlight Mile – Rolling Stones

Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth – Primitive Radio Gods

I’m Your Man –Leonard Cohen

The Organ Grinder – Watkin Tudor Jones

Rebirth of Slick – Digable Planets

Teenage Dirtbag – Wheatus

The Beautiful People – Marilyn Manson

Debaser – Pixies

212 – Azealia Banks

The Black Jack White – Spirit Animal

Carry that Weight – Beatles

Crimewave – Crystal Castles

Manhattan – Cat Power

Feelin’ Alright – Sweatshop Union

The Late Greats – Wilco

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With The Paul Duane at the Marilyn Manson and Alice Cooper Concert. (feed my frankenstein!)

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Just cause I love the colors in this picture.

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And the people in this one.

6/12/13

What’s life in Utah Like?

I was reticent about moving my little people away from their lives in Dville, but this week my fears proved unfounded.  The little boys couldn’t be happier.  The pictures in this post mostly feature Jude because he is the guy getting the most out of our new digs.  Also Silas and I are in a little fight today because he’s been hissing at me. 

People always said that Utah is very family friendly and has tons of kid activities, but I didn’t know that the best way to get into them is with a guide, specifically an expert Hush-type guide.

But first stop was the super rad pirate pool with Anne.  Lazy river (and mothers) included.  Only one issue with this pool is there are too many beautiful people there.  Why is there an over abundance of beautiful people in Utah?  I want to punch these skinny blonde girls in the face.  Why do they produce so much rage in me?  I have issues.  Moving on.

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Last weekend was Gay Pride!  If that isn’t a good transitional activity into conservative Utah I don’t know what is.  All the freaks were out and we felt right at home.  Thankfully they had a few hours that were family friendly and not over-sexualized like Gay events frequently are.  Jude and Silas had their hair spray painted. 

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Hush taught the boys to play hacky sack and now they can’t stop kicking it around.  They’re terrible but at least they’re close to the ground to pick it up. 

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Apparently we’re hikers now.  We hike places.  Turns out hiking is just walking uphill in the dirt.  Why does it get a special name?  This hike was up Immigration Donner Cottonwood McParley This is the Place.  Or something like that.  Perfect length hike for the kids with a big marker statue at the top. 

There was a second incident at the top of this hike.  I tend to have incidents in Utah, the first being in church a few weeks ago where I was shushed because some dude who was late to church thought I was not giving him sufficient quiet to think about Jesus.  I told him that that was my first day at an LDS church and how surprised I was at his condescension, and do they treat all investigators that way.  This time the incident involved me teaching Jude how to do some rock climbing holds on the base of some nondescript marker.  I was then accosted by a nasty older dude who got on my case saying we were “desecrating” the landmark.  I bit my tongue, but was very hesitant to obey some big jerk guy who was obviously targeting me because I look abnormal.  Even when people don’t say exactly that I can always tell if that is what’s motivating their irritation with me.  Anyway, Hush made peace and I didn’t have to knock out an old dude.

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Hats.  The boys have adopted newsies hats and it makes me love them more.  They’re the same size right now and I dress them as alike as possible.  People ask me every day if they’re twins and I tell them no, but they feel like they are and I like getting credit for having twins.  I’ve started to feed Jude a little bit less and Silas a little bit more to keep them the same size.  Just kidding.

 

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Our friends out here have motorcycles.  This is the only time my children will ever be allowed near motorcycles.  Learning to ride is on my to-do list this year, for no other reason than to say that I know how to ride a motorcycle.  I don’t want one.  Too dykey.

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SHAVE ICE.  So it turns out Utah might have more to offer us than originally expected.  Not only do they have shave ice, they have the REAL KIND not just lame snow-cone flavors.  AND they know what SNOWCAPS are!  Shave ice isn’t shave ice without sweetened condensed milk.  Last night Hush and I took a walk in the evening to the shave ice place down my street.  There is shave ice within walking distance to my house.  The weather was lovely and the shave ice cheap (because Utah is a foreign country with foreign exchange rates rendering everything pretty much free).  Dare I say it felt like an evening in Hawaii.  Fragrant flowers, warm breeze, shave ice, flip flops, sunset, and a hammock.  I’m trying not to love it here but secretly I do and I feel like a big fat traitor to California.

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Next fabulous element of life?  Music.  Specifically, guitar.  Want to know what my life is like these days?  Think laying on your back singing ‘Wish You Were Here’ and the Grateful Dead.  Turns out we have adopted a juke-box!  I had no idea Hush could play guitar, not only play but play well and just about anything I demand.  I love unexpected talent.  Hush holds the chords and lets the boys play.  And I die of the adorableness.

 

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Next activity?  Baseball! Hush scored free tickets and we went to the Salt Lake Bees game, except my children don’t understand that baseball is anything but the Giants.  Baseball = Giants, thus they called the team the Giant Bees.  It was the first time that Jude was really engaged in the game and I sat there and taught him all of the rules.  Val would be proud.  He was into it for a few innings, and then the real reason to go to baseball manifested itself:  food.  There was a lot of action being that it was minor league, but both team had problems keeping the ball on the field.  Dummies.

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And now for the main event.  The feature of Utah we’ve been enjoying most is rock climbing. 

I learned to rock climb as a teenager at my hippie school.  My older brother and Ellie and I were pretty into it, but I hadn’t been in a long time and I’d forgotten how much I enjoy climbing.  Climbing is like dancing – it’s hard and graceful and I love watching talented people do it so much better than I ever could.  Hush I’d put in the professional category.  If you own your own ropes and look like this because of climbing you’re professional in my book.

 

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(Yes, that was gratuitous and you like it.)

Anywayz, Hush and I feel sufficiently confident in our abilities to feel like the kids are safe climbing, but we didn’t know what they would think about it.

First we started at the climbing gym.

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They were scared at the beginning, but then I watched as the climbing fever took over Judejude.  He screams and yells in frustration sometimes as he climbs, but he pushes himself and he’s actually pretty good.  He understands how to hug the wall and match his feet and use his legs to jump off.  Silas can’t figure it out yet, but he tries and enjoys hanging out.

So we took the boys outside for a real climb.  Jude got his own little harness.  And up he went.

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Belaying my little kids is one of the best experiences of my life.  I’m militant about it of course and err on the side of hefting them up the rock by keeping the belay so tight.  With Silas I actually yank him up because he prefers to be lifted, lazy kid.

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So we thought that Judejude would just climb a bit overhead and get frustrated.  But he just.kept.going.

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You can see there’s a bit of a vertical overhang right above Cubby in this pic, but he just climbed right up it like a little spider monkey.

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I went up the trail by the rock to try to talk him into giving up and coming down, but he wouldn’t.  It was scary high for me, not being on a rope. But check Jude out in this video.  He looks at me, looks at the ground, and keeps going up.

 

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Climbing, baseball games, shave ice, playing music, hikes, killer pools, hacky sack and a bunch of other fun things.  Yeah, I’d say Utah is kind of growing on me. 

6/3/13

Hush Intro

This pretty much tells you everything you need to know about Hush, right?

Crystal Castles Crimewave.

6/1/13

Testosterone Weekend

 

Song:

Quote:

“Being a woman is a terribly difficult task, since it consists principally in dealing with men.”
Joseph Conrad

Pics and Story:

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Move: Complete.  Well nearly. 

Moving to SLC was eerily easy.  Before I’d made the decision to move, say, around February when I was mired in paralysis of choice, things were kinda frustrating and hard.  Once I made the decision to move to SLC life just started clicking into place.  I had a little talk with God to let him know that IF I was going to move to a state I hitherto loathed he better make it easy or I wasn’t going.  And easy it was.  Almost a little TOO easy.

I flew out to SLC for a weekend and when I arrived my friends had lined up houses for me to see.  J. chauffeured me around and made all the phone calls (hurrah!  I’m phonephobic).  Nothing looked good because they all had creepy basements with places to stash dead bodies.  Until we walked into THE ONE. 

I applied to ONE house and we found out within the week that we were accepted!  Then I had to figure out my lease and it ended right on time for us to move. 

I consulted with Houdini about the move and he willingly prepared the move-away custody agreement AND gave us sufficient funds to move. 

I had plenty of time to pack my whole house all by myself (one box by Paige). 

I asked for help from the men folk to load the truck and they came in droves. 

I begged Hush (intro later) to come out from SLC to help me drive the truck for 12 hours and he came without argument and was MVP of moving. 

I arranged for Mimi to stay with grandma to finish out the school year and Mimi was thrilled to be staying for a few weeks. 

I asked my friends to be there when we arrived and I pulled up to 11 people ready and willing to help us move in. 

So here we are.  There are SO MANY great new things happening I don’t even know where to start.

I highly recommend moving when you’re a poor unfortunate single mother.  Men are so capable and helpful!  I even packed the boxes wayyy too heavy and nary was there a complaint!  They actually feel pride about getting everything all packed up just right.  In a matter of two days I think maybe 20 different men helped us and I am so very grateful.  Maybe when you move with a husband the guys think that he has to have made some serious service efforts in the months leading up.  Maybe husbands are a moving liability.  I don’t know.  Either way, people came from all over and lifted my stuff.  Some of my lady friends were around too and I appreciated them as well.

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Men in Dville loading them up and moving them out. 

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Then of course there was the 12 hour drive going less than the speed limit.  Also a man party consisting of Jude, Silas and Hush.  We did some roof dancing in Elko and that made things tolerable.

Then we finally arrived!  I’d forgotten how cute my new little house is.  It’s old and yellow and quaint and lush and just all around adorable.  I love it.  When we pulled up yellow irises were blooming in front of my yellow house.  It was springy and just so good.  It makes me happy every time I drive up.  There’s something to be said for loving the way your home looks.

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We piled out and then the droves of party people arrived to unload the truck.  They had it done in 30 minutes and there were pictures hanging by the time they left. Best helpers EVER.

I had friends I hadn’t seen in 15 years show up, Dville people I grew up with, STRANGERS from my blog (well I guess we’ve known each other for six years, but still.), a cousin, and all my guy friends.  Look through the pictures, these people are rad.  It was more like a party.  Many thanks to each of you. 

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Anyway, we are all settled, relieved, and grateful. 

Phase one is done and done.  Now to figure out the rest of our lives!

5/18/13

Hugging Moratorium Lifted

We move from the Bay Area to SLC a week from today. 

During this period of time I will both allow and welcome all hugs, upon departure from CA and arrival in Ut. 

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I will not squirm and I will try to enjoy the hugging.  I typically hate hugs.  Here’s why.

 

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I have emotionally prepared myself, however, if you squeeze me too tightly tears might fall out.  I will not be held accountable for aforementioned tears.

We have the move mostly under control, but if you find yourself wanting to do some service at 9am on Saturday you are more than welcome to come help load the truck and say goodbye

The unloading, however, is making me nervous.  Remember how excited you SAID you were that the Nortorious Band of Misfits is moving to SLC?  Well I invite you to prove it.  Want to meet us? Care to help?  Email me if you can help us unload on Sunday evening May 26 in Sugarhouse.  (Yeah I know it’s a Sunday, sorry.) norface5@yahoo.com.  I’m not above begging, please come help us!  I will pay you in hugs – something that I don’t usually give out for free and that typically makes me want to vomit.