Tag Archives: Ghosteen Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Putting On My “Happy Guy” Face!!!

I won’t bog you down with the details, I’ll only say that I’m really happy to be making some story sales here AND even getting some editing work again. Here’s hoping things are slowly but surely getting back on track…

I need it to. That’s all I will say. Because we’re going to be positive around here and look forward!!

Today, in addition to working some more on the new erotic short story (“1954 Powder Blue Pickup”), I think Valerie and I are going to try to figure out why the heck the cover art for The Guitar Hero Goes Home is not doing what it is supposed to be doing — we had a long chat about it yesterday, and it gets mindboggling –why it keeps skewing the way it does, when, in the template, it keeps matching up perfectly.

It is disheartening. But we’ll get it figured out.

Meanwhile, every time I look at the cover of the proof copy that arrived yesterday, I just sort of sigh with a heavy heart…

I’m actually toying with the idea of trying to make the new short story a novella. If you’ve read last evening’s excerpt from the new story, you can probably tell that there are actual characters in the story and a story arc is underway. Unlike “Half-Moon Bride,” which basically had neither. So the groundwork is set if I want to actually extend it into something more significant.

However, this is another one of those situations, where I have no real clue what’s coming up next while I’m writing it — the story just comes out.  So we’ll see how it goes. Basically, everyday I simply sit down at the desk and I write…

Even though the writing has been going really great lately, I have been battling the urge to get rather melancholy. So far, I am winning the battle, but it is just constantly there, in the background. I guess mostly because summer is waning. And that storm the other night really took a toll on my incredibly beautiful hydrangea bush. I don’t think it’s going to be able to get back to how it looked before the storm because it is already so late in the season. It makes me so sad. The blossoms had gotten so huge, and the storm filled the blossoms with water, so now they’re bent way down to the sidewalk — and they had been 8-feet tall. That’s a lot of weight keeping it bent over.

I keep wishing there was something I could do, but the blossoms are getting old now and I need to accept that I can’t solve all of Nature’s “problems” — and it could be that Nature doesn’t think it has any problem at all. And I should just keep out of it, right?

And my lawn care guy has had a bad back issue so he hasn’t been here to cut the grass in 3 weeks. My yard now has that look of complete and utter abandonment. Which is not the overall look I prefer.

I hate feeling like I have no control, you know? Like I have to just stand back and allow everything. Let everything just be what it is. Sometimes it’s very frustrating for me.

So, the more I can sit at my desk and write and not focus on the things that make me sad, the better the day goes.

And on that little note… I’m gonna get the day underway here.  I hope you’re having a nice Wednesday, wherever you are in the world!  I think I mentioned the other day that Nick Cave’s solo concert is going to be released as an album in November. I’m going to leave you with a video they released from that concert — Nick Cave at  the piano, singing “Galleon Ship” from Ghosteen (2019). This is what I was listening to last night, as the whole world was trying really, really hard not to go flying off into a million pieces.  Okay, thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!!

“Galleon Ship”

If I could sail a galleon ship
A long, lonely rider across the sky
Seek out mysteries while you sleep
And treasures money cannot buy
For you know I see you everywhere
A servant girl, an empress
My galleon ship will fly and fall
Fall and fly and fly and fall deep into your loveliness

And if we rise my love
Before the daylight comes
A thousand galleon ships will sail
Ghostly around the morning sun

As the city rises up
As the city rises up
As the city rises up
As the city rises up

For we are not alone, it seems
So many riders in the sky
The winds of longing in their sails
Searching for the other side

And if we rise my love
Oh my darling, precious one
We’ll stand and watch the galleon ships
Circle around the morning sun

© 2019 Nick Cave, Warren Ellis

What Mondays Look Like in My Refrigerator!

Yes!! It’s Monday!!

Me and Henry, my AI sexbot (pictured above in the driver’s seat!!), will be heading out to do our weekly marketing in the next county over within the hour  — the county that is no longer in Code Red! Yay! The county where we hope people are still wearing their fucking masks so that it doesn’t go back into Code Red again anytime soon!!

The summer is basically over, after all! School starts this week! No need to frolic around joyfully without our masks on, right?? We’re sad now. School is starting. Let’s wear our masks…

Okay! Re: the title of this post — here is what my fridge looks like on Monday mornings:

The taste-tempting options on Monday morning!!

It’s really ridiculous how things look first thing in the morning on Mondays, compared to how it looks a few hours later when I come back home from the store.

(And those packaged broccoli crowns are a week old, so I’m not really sure they’re even any good.)

So, Mondays are always exciting around here, if only that it means we get more food!!

Okay!! Two winners were selected for the Bad Seed TeeVee fan music video contest. (Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds.) I didn’t see either of the videos!! I wish I had, but there were just tons on there. (And wonderful, wonderful stuff, gang. I hope you got to see some of them.)

Anyway. The winners were: “Waiting for You” performed by Juldiz. And “Spinning Song” performed by Ilya Gruzdev. (Both songs are off of Ghosteen.)

I still just marvel at what people can achieve so economically these days when it comes to music and music videos and/or visual images set to music on a video.

I feel pretty grateful that I even know how to take a 5-second video with my phone.  Even though I have plenty of apps to help me make videos and also to make music, and even though I know how to read and the apps I have are in English, I still can’t figure this stuff out.

And I mentioned this last summer, too — how amazing it is that a lot of people learn how to play (often electronic) instruments on their phones.  For instance, a woman I know bought an inexpensive drum machine recently and learned how to play it through an app on her phone.

In my totally outdated opinion, those aren’t real drums, and to be a drummer, you need to know how to actually play drums. But that is no longer the case. She’s considered somebody who now knows how to play drums. Plain & simple. And every single bit of it is electronic and app-driven.

Well, I think it’s just incredibly cool. I’m on this tangent only because I think it’s amazing how quickly these Nick Cave fans put together such incredible videos. If I had wanted to submit something, I’d still be sitting here, trying to figure out how to work the app. And I’m a classically trained musician, with years and years of experience in audio engineering and multi-media production.

So, the Universe is sort of becoming this place wherein the less you know, the better equipped you actually are.

If you want to read what Nick Cave himself had to say about all the entries as well as the winners, his Red Hand File from today is here.

And on a related note — Cave Things Instagram feed announced today that it is adding more “coming soon” stuff so check that stuff  out here.

Okay, gang. So this is what I’ve decided to do.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I have decided to start self-publishing all my books from now on, and in anticipation of that decision, I will soon have a separate web site for Marilyn’s Room Books.

The books coming either soon or in the very near future are:

  • The Guitar Hero Goes Home
  • The Muse Revisited Vol. 4: Selected Erotic Fiction 1994-2012 (POD)
  • Twilight of the Immortal (POD edition)

And then, coming in a slightly more distant future:

  • Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse
  • Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town
  • In the Shadow of Narcissa: An Intimate Memoir of Childhood

These books will be listed on the new web site but actual orders will be fulfilled by Amazon.

However, I have also decided to start selling new erotic short stories through that Marilyn’s Room Books site, as well. These are stories that I will post for sale as I write them, and they will sell electronically for extremely cheap (and I mean cheap) and the sale will be processed through Lulu.com (Paypal or CC), so I will not have access to any of your private info, gang. And once I accumulate enough new stories, they will be gathered into a new POD collection and the individual electronic stories will be  removed from the site.

I really, really love writing erotic stories, gang. I really do. But the economics of doing that for a living became just crazy once the publishing industry imploded back in like 2010 or whenever that was. At the height of my career, I was paid between $300 -$1200 per story, and each story would be 1000- 3000 words; I could turn those things around in a couple of days. And then I earned ten times that (and upwards) to edit anthologies of stories by other erotica writers. (And this was strictly through the small presses; a fraction of what the large presses paid.)

And this was not erotic romance, either. This was hardcore literary erotica by writers that would really just amaze you.

That market simply does not exist anymore. Not even close. Now, an original erotica story will pay between $5-$30.  And usually they do not come out as an actual print book that you can buy in the bookstore , they’re all eBooks or audio. Which is great, but still, you can readily see why writing stand alone erotic stories got pushed way to my back burner.

Yet, I feel bad that so many of you (those of you still willing to pay for them and not download them free through torrents from game boys in distant lands) keep buying that really old stuff, over and over. So we shall see how it goes: In between (erotic) novels, memoirs, screenplays and plays, there will be new erotic stories for you, and about 50¢ for me!!

I’m actually really excited because I do love writing that stuff, but I also do need to earn a living around here.

I will of course announce any new stories here on the blog, but if you want to be updated about new content, there will be an email sign-up on the other site.

Well, all righty. The grocery store is beckoning me!! So I will get going.  I hope you have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world today!! I leave you with my listening music from last night: Yo Yo Ma playing “Cantata BWV 147, Jesus bleibet meine Freude”. I had it on “repeat” for about an hour. Listen and rejoice!! Okay. I love you guys. See ya!

Trying to Make this Day Not Suck!!!

Even though I don’t have television and I don’t listen to the radio, I still get plenty of really terrible fucking news.

It can get so difficult to pull myself up out of that garbage once it gets into my head.

COVID 19 is, of course, surging everywhere once again — and not just in America. And even though the vaccine is really really close (yay!! — Phase 3 of the clinical trials are beginning), the cure is what we need because…

Nick Cave’s Instagram feed announced this morning that tickets for the Ghosteen tour of Europe next summer are back on sale and even though I already have my ticket — thanks to my friends in Switzerland — at this rate, without a cure, as an American, I will likely never be allowed to travel anywhere ever again.

So a cure would come in really handy right now. (I’m getting really tired of worrying about absolutely everybody; it’s time for me to be really selfish now. I want to see Nick Cave. So please find the cure!!)

Also, the surge in the violation of the 1st Amendment Rights of college and university students all over America is the scariest fucking thing I’ve encountered short of the white Anarchist-Socialists absconding with the Black Lives Matter movement — and leaving Black people — whose lives actually do matter — once more in the fucking dust. (“Black Lives Matter” now basically only means “I Hate Trump”.)

If you are interested in helping to fight for the Freedom of Speech rights of students, you can check out (and join) the Speech First movement.  They are a not-for-profit, run primarily by women, fighting for the rights of students. On Instagram, they are @speech_first.

If you aren’t aware of how bad it’s getting here in the US — students who express opposing viewpoints to the extreme Leftist/Socialist/Progressives masquerading as Democrats, are not only physically assaulted on campuses but receive death threats and have vicious online hate campaigns started against them, which are often sanctioned by the faculty.

And those “old school” teachers  who don’t get on board the new train to violent Intolerance Land, also get those online hate campaigns started against them and can then even lose their fucking jobs.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (Full-length Play)

And lest we forget, gang, this once actually happened:

Auschwitz pleads with 'disrespectful' visitors to stop posing on ...
Train tracks leading to Auschwitz

Well, okay.

The earthquake in Los Angeles did lead to canceling my meeting yesterday with Peitor (which has been moved to today instead.) (I know — it’s my day to focus only on writing Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, so, yes, I am a wee bit irritated. ) But I did do a ton of Abstract Absurdity Productions work on my own, yesterday. Including a one-hour phone conference with the accountant in NYC, regarding setting up our LLC, etc., and my brain had pretty much exploded by the time I got off the phone call.

But as far as I know, the earthquake was not Peitor’s fault, so I’m going to try really, really hard to not be irritable through the entire 2-hour phone call today.

And then the rest of the day (and whole weekend, in fact) will be devoted to working on Thug Luckless. So I need to look at the bright side.

Okay. I know you’re really dying to be updated on this: My workout routine now consists of 2 mornings of yoga, 2 mornings of the treadmill, and 2 mornings of aerobics — and then one morning to just say “fuck it” and not workout at all.

I really feel great — I do — but I am not losing even an ounce of fucking weight. It is making me completely insane because, as loyal readers of this lofty blog know so well, I eat really really boring, healthy non-fattening vegetarian food. So why I’ve put on 12 pounds and can’t budge it off of me, is something that leads only to madness if I ponder it too much.

So the only other option is to just stay off the fucking scale until the virus is finally gone from our cultural landscape. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Gone are the days of this past winter, when I had that crazy digital scale that repeatedly enabled me to reach my goal weight in about 3 hours’ time. I miss that!! I don’t fucking care if it’s lying to me at this point, just tell me I lost 12 pounds!! Restore to me the beautiful life I had 12 pounds ago!!

Anyway. I’m not really that insane, but it does bother me.

Okay.  I am just going to say one other thing that is bothering the fuck out of me:  certain family members. Who refuse to ever just tell me that I’m a good writer. And even when something I’ve written has brought tears to their eyes, they can’t say that what I wrote was good. And if I tell them that other people responded really positively to it, too, then those readers “are closeted gays.”

Okay, thank you. Thanks for that. Thanks for that vote of encouragement, you know? I’m fucking 60 now — you’d think it would stop mattering that my family doesn’t support my writing. Or that they can insult all of my readers, all over the world, in one fell fucking swoop. But it does indeed bug the shit out of me.

Jesus.

But I don’t want to be part of the “cancel culture.” Don’t want to disallow that everyone is entitled to their opinions.  So, I just bite my tongue, as they say, and I move on.

Well, all righty! I’m going to get going here, gang. I hope your Friday is really good to you, wherever you are in the world (but not so “Good,” that they send out some Romans to nail you to a cross). Thanks for visiting. Oddly enough, last night, I was back to listening to IZ because his voice makes me so fucking happy. Makes me forget about COVID, and family, and seemingly unrequited love, and LLCs and budgets and investors, dirty politics, and all the fucking damage people can do. So I leave you with it again, even though I only posted it here 2 days ago… Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya.

Yes, It’s That Kind of Wonderful Morning!!

Here in Crazeysburg, the cocks — excuse me — the roosters are out and about, which is always exciting, and it is yet another incredibly beautiful day!!

(I’m kidding about the roosters, gang. They don’t actually allow you to keep chickens and such here in the Village of Crazeysburg itself. You have to take 14 steps out of the village if you want to do that.) (And I’m not kidding about that part.)

But that reminds me:  A million years ago, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers did a live radio broadcast out of Chicago, where they did just a killer (sexy) version of Howlin’ Wolf’s “Little Red Rooster”!

(This whole broadcast is actually really great.  It totally kicks A. I don’t think it’s on an actual album or CD, but there is an MP3 download of it that you can get everywhere.)

Okay!! So!!

Today’s kind of a big day for me. Today is my big foray into Granville, Ohio, to have dinner with Kevin (Director of Tell My Bones) (in some future make-believe land, that is. All theater in NYC is shut down until 2021. I’m guessing NYC will never get back to normal, at this rate.)

Anyway. Kevin and I are having dinner at the Granville Inn and I have not done anything social, let alone been to the inn, since March 14th. I’m not entirely sure that I remember how to behave in public, but we’ll find out. Plus, this will be the first time I will put on my eye make-up in 3 and 1/2 months. So weird.

But I’m excited!! And also nervous. Because life is just plain different now. I’m guessing that if I let go of believing in anything I ever knew before, I should do all right.

Yesterday, I was working on Girl in the Night, and I guess I’ve just been doing too much typing these last few days, because the bones in the tops of my hands started to really hurt. So I took one extra-strength Tylenol and within minutes, my hands felt great but I was so sleepy I couldn’t even sit at my desk anymore! I had forgotten that those darn pills make me sleepy.

So the bulk of the day was not entirely productive, although I did have a nice day, regardless. And the lawn guy came to cut the grass, so the weedsyard — is looking really spiffy.

And of course, by 9pm, I was quite perky and wide awake. And remained that way for a few hours, but I didn’t really feel like working at that point. So, after streaming another episode of Professor T., I just laid around on my bed in the dark — well, with the lights out. My bedroom is never actually dark because of the streetlights outside my window.

But I laid around on my bed in the dark, stared out the window at the truly beautiful night, watching the blinks of the fireflies wane, and I listened to Phoebe Bridgers’ new album, Punisher.

I Know the End Lyrics Phoebe Bridgers | Punisher - Genius-Lyrics

It’s kind of a depressing album, but it’s still beautiful and the lyrics are great. If I were closer to her age and not old enough to be her grandmother, I would likely relate to it a bit more, but I still really love her way with words. (Although the entire album makes me think of the song “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol. So I ended up playing that beautiful, non-depressing song over & over, and then finally fell to sleep.)

But back to listening to Phoebe Bridgers — I was thinking, once again, how incredible it is for young women nowadays to be able to make any kind of music they want to; to write any kind of songs they want to and have them sound however they want them to sound.  Because it definitely didn’t used  to be that way.

Plus there’s room now for so many more women musicians and songwriters and performers. They used to sign about one or two per genre, and then get behind them for about 2 albums, as long as they proved to be massive hits.  Of course, back then, there was so much more money at stake for the various music industry gatekeepers, and all that’s been thoroughly “disrupted” now by everyone wanting so much music for free (and I won’t get political today, I’ll just say, that Socialist tendencies are so great, gang; it helps make everybody equally poor).

However!!

I do genuinely think it’s so great that women in music nowadays have so much more freedom to express what they want to express, however they want to express it. And I think that’s just so beautiful.

And something else that is amazingly beautiful, is the Red Hand Files thing that Nick Cave sent out today. You don’t even have to know his music, or know the album Ghosteen, to be able to appreciate what he has to say about love today. You can read it here if you are so inclined.

On that note, gang, I’m going to get started here.  I’ll leave you with both the beautiful song “Punisher,” by Phoebe Bridgers, and the equally beautiful though very different song “Chasing Cars,” by Snow Patrol. Relax and enjoy!! (Or float off into the stratosphere is probably more like it!!) But either way, thanks for visiting! I love you guys! See ya!

“Punisher”

When the speed kicks in
I go to the store for nothing
And walk right by
The house where you lived with Snow White
I wonder if she ever thought
The storybook tiles on the roof were too much
But from the window, it’s not a bad show
If your favorite thing’s Dianetics or stucco

The drugstores are open all night
The only real reason I moved to the east side
I love a good place to hide in plain sight

What if I told you I feel like I know you
But we never met?

And here everyone knows you’re the way to my heart
Hear so many stories of you at the bar
Most times alone and some looking your worst
But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers

Man, I wish that I could say the same
I swear I’m not angry, that’s just my face
A copycat killer with a chemical cut
Either I’m careless or I wanna get caught
Ooh, I’m not

What if I told you I feel like I know you
But we never met?
It’s for the best

I can’t open my mouth and forget how to talk
‘Cause even if I could, wouldn’t know where to start
Wouldn’t know when to stop

© 2020  Phoebe Bridgers

What about just being happy — has she thought of that?!

Well, it’s finally happened. I’ve gone about 36 hours now, being able to breathe just fine. And I know for sure now that the virus is completely gone. All the pressure is 100% out of my lungs.

Yet, I awoke at about 4am, knowing for certain that I was completely well again, after an entire month of dealing with that virus, and all I could do was cry. For, like, two hours. It’s been the weirdest morning.

I don’t know whether it was because my body was letting go of everything — the stress of having to always overcompensate for not getting enough air. Or what.  But it was just weird. Especially since, yesterday, for the most part, I had just the best day.

I know that part of what made me sad, though, is that yesterday evening, when I went across the road to get my mail, there was a letter in there from my dad. And it was a list of all his art pieces and I was supposed to put a check mark next to any of the things I wanted  after he’s gone, or in the event he has to go into the actual nursing home and thus downsize.

It was depressing. There are a few pieces I actually really want but I have no room for anything whatsoever. No room at all. One is a painting of empty boats at a dock that my dad has had forever. Another is a crystal sculpture of the sail of a sailboat — something else he’s had for most of my life. And so I would like to have those things. The other is a somewhat enormous wooden model of a galleon ship, replete with sails. My dad built it and it’s really awesome. However, it’s also really just huge, you know? I have absolutely no room for it. And it doesn’t actually make me think of my dad, because it’s not that old. It actually makes me think of Ghosteen, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (“Galleon Ship”), and so I want it, too.

Even though I actually really want these things, what the heck am I supposed to do with them? So I know that was weighing on me — the idea that my dad sent me that letter, I mean. That alone stressed me out. But that’s not enough to make me cry for two hours the following day…

I think that, mostly, my writing is weighing on me. Just generally.

I had a great session with Peitor yesterday. We worked for two hours on revising the “Lita” script and we are just about done with that. All we have left after that will be to create the pitch deck presentation.

And I made the decisions to hire a “happiness engineer” to help me put the rest of the web site together.  (It really has just gotten to be too much for me to figure out how to make the most with these “user friendly” web templates. And it just makes me so frustrated. I can’t tell you how simple it used to be to throw together amazing looking web pages, just knowing html and a little bit of java code, you know?)

Anyway. I decided to release that stress and just hire someone at WordPress to make sure it got done correctly. So that Peitor and I can keep moving forward and be ready with everything the moment LA gets back to normal. And he and I are both really excited about the studio in Alabama, too. Just having access to that space, with the cinematographer right there. It’s going to be so much fun.

Plus he and I have never been able to travel much together, but when we do, we really have fun. Once, about twenty years ago, we took a trip to Catalina Island, back when it was still really charming, and we had just the best time. We stayed in a bed & breakfast that used to be the writer Zane Grey’s estate. (And oddly enough, the County Seat of Muskingum County is Zane Grey’s birthplace — isn’t that weird?)

We laughed like crazy that whole trip. In fact, here’s a photo of Peitor in our room at the bed & breakfast — 20 years ago:

 

 

 

 

 

He’s in his 40s here and he looks so young! It’s hard to believe we’d already known each other 15 years by this point. How young were we when we actually met, you know??!!  (We met at the Museum of Modern Art, in NYC, when I was 25 and he was 27.)

So, I’m really looking forward to the Alabama trip.  And the director of Tell My Bones texted again, saying that he was going to call this morning to give me an update on what he and the producer of the staged reading are mapping out. So I’m excited about that.

Not a whole lot of reasons to cry here, right? So I just don’t know.

I sat at my desk and read over what I have so far of Thug Luckless yesterday. I wasn’t unhappy with it, I just wasn’t sure how to proceed with it. And that bothered me.

And then I took a look at the beginning of Blessed By Light (or whatever I’m planning to call it) to begin the final edit of that and as much as I love that novel, it disturbs me that I always manage to write things that are just so impossible to market, you know? And it’s not like that’s ever my goal, or anything. I’m just lucky that way.

So that depressed me a little bit, so I closed the file and, instead, began reading the latest newsletter from the Biblical Archeological Society. There were several really cool articles about the Canonical Gospels. One, specifically, about the Hebrew-language origins of the Gospel of Matthew. And it also examined how later versions of all the Gospels seriously revised the role of John the Baptist, in order to make Jesus seem more like God. And that kind of stuff always fascinates and disturbs me. (Meaning the manipulation of information in order to control people.)

And just as I was deep into reading a section about the symbolic role of Lazarus in the Book of John, I got an alert on my computer screen that Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds had just uploaded something to YouTube. So I clicked on it and suddenly Nick Cave is reciting from And the Ass Saw the Angel, saying, “Pa beat the mule to death in Autumn…”

Jesus Christ, you know? (No pun intended.) But I certainly wasn’t expecting that. (I love that novel, but still. Whoa. Thank you for putting that image into my head…)

I listened to the whole thing because it was only 2 minutes long, but then decided to close down the computer for the night. I went down to the kitchen and streamed a PBS special, titled Inside the Vatican. It was really interesting. All the various people who work at the Vatican are so cool; they have such meaningful jobs, you know? But it made me feel like I don’t really know what my purpose is anymore — or if I even have one. I know that I don’t actually need a purpose in order to exist. But it just felt disconcerting.

And I’m guessing the tears this morning stemmed from that, which I know must be connected to my writing in some way. Now that I’m finally well, and what’s left of my life is still ahead of me, what am I planning to do? Right?

And then I was really missing that man who died a couple years ago. He had this really uncanny way of knowing exactly what I should do about everything. And I mean, everything — all the things that mattered to me.  He would just tell me what to do, and he would always be right.

And then he died, and I went back to floating off on my little cloud again.

Well, in other good news: The Amish guys called yesterday to say that, weather permitting, they will be here on Saturday to put the new roof on my barn! And that really does make me happy. I can’t wait. And now that I’m finally really well, I can start cleaning up that backyard — get all the dead leaves raked up and out of there. Get ready for summer.

Okay. On that note! I’m gonna close this and get started on something around here. I hope you have a really good Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. I’ll leave you with “Galleon Ship,” off of Ghosteen, even though I think I might have already posted it here once before. I can’t remember! Anyway. I love this song. Enjoy! And thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

 

Just A Really Sexy Beautiful Morning!!

Okay, I don’t know that the morning is actually “sexy,” but it’s still just a really frisky morning here. Sunshiney beyond belief. Trees everywhere coming more and more into their new leaves. Promising that Summer is just around the corner, gang!

My lawncare guys still have not come out yet because it’s been mostly rainy and still really cold. But I know that really soon, they’re gonna come out here and my lawn is going to look like everyone else’s in the town — meaning not a complete overgrown, weed-strewn disaster.

And then I can once again look out my kitchen window and feel really blissful, instead of really paranoid –knowing that everyone in this town — virus or no virus — is wondering: What the fuck is her deal, anyway? Why doesn’t she cut her fucking grass like the rest of us do? If she wasn’t planning on cutting her fucking grass, why’d she go and buy the one house in the center of town that has the biggest fucking lawn? It makes no sense. And have you noticed that every single fucking window in that house has a different cat sittin’ in it? I mean, really – what the fuck is her deal?

OTHER (very 420-friendly) GUY SITTING IN THE SAME TRUCK: “I heard she comes from New York City. Some kinda writer.”

FIRST (420-friendly) GUY: “New York City?! Shit. There ya go. That says it right there.”

But, you know – keep a tidy lawn and no one thinks twice about you.

And I have made up my mind that this year, I’ll just buy the darn chainsaw myself — the one that the lawn guys need in order to get rid of that dead oak tree that’s in a heap back by my barn. And then they can just keep the darn chainsaw. I mean, I’ll still pay them to do the work because it is going to be a fucking nightmare to get rid of that thing. But perhaps the “parting gift” of the actual chainsaw will finally get rid of that enormous dead tree that has been sitting there now in that heap for a few years, keeping me from being able to really fix my barn.) (Because everyone who promises to come out and deal with that tree — and get paid to do it –never does.)

But guys love power tools, right? So we’ll see… I’m hopeful, anyway.

Well, yesterday, I went to the dollar store! I ran an actual errand and it felt really good. And even though I still spent most of the rest of the day in bad, I wasn’t tired out from the little excursion. I really, really think I am just about over the residual stuff from the virus.

And yesterday, I started streaming Vienna Blood on PBS Passport (From UK/Austria, 2019). About a student of Freud and a police inspector who solve murders in Vienna in the early 1900s. It is really fun. I’m sure I’ll devour it in a heartbeat, though — there are only 6 episodes, total.

And, sadly, the next new season of Endeavor won’t happen until the summer of 2021! I’m guessing, they mean it will begin streaming the very moment Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds begin their re-scheduled Ghosteen concert in Zurich.  And that I’ll be forced to watch the premiere episode on my phone while also trying to watch the Bad Seeds onstage in front of me.

And my Swiss friends will say, “Marilyn, you came all the way to Switzerland to see this show, can’t you put your phone away?”

ME (pulling out one ear bud): “But it’s Endeavor. There hasn’t been a new season in two fucking years, man.”

Yeah, right!!

Anyway. Okay.

I am going to get going here and continue on with my sexy beautiful morning (even though I still smell like Vick’s Vapo-Rub). I hope you have a nice Sunday, wherever you are in the world. Stay hopeful!! Summer will get here before you know it and even though everything imaginable will have changed, soon enough it will be better than ever before.

I was still listening to Elvis Presley and “Can’t Help falling in Love With You,” this morning, so I leave you with last night’s listening music, as I was drifting off to dreamland: “To Be By Your Side” by Nick Cave. It is from the Winged Migration soundtrack, 2018. Okay. Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“To Be By Your Side”

Across the oceans, across the seas
Over forests of blackened trees
Through valleys so still we dare not breathe
To be by your side
Over the shifting desert plains
Across mountains all in flames
Through howling winds and driving rains
To be by your side
Every mile and every year
For every one a little tear
I cannot explain this, Dear
I will not even try

Into the night as the stars collide
Across the borders that divide
Forests of stone standing petrified
To be by your side
Every mile and every year
For every one a single tear
I cannot explain this, Dear
I will not even try

[Chorus]
For I know one thing
Love comes on a wing
For tonight I will be by your side
But tomorrow I will fly

From the deepest ocean To the highest peak
Through the frontiers of your sleep
Into the valley where we dare not speak
To be by your side
Across the endless wilderness
Where all the beasts bow down their heads
Darling I will never rest
Till I am by your side
Every mile and every year
Time and Distance disappear
I cannot explain this, Dear
No, I will not even try

[Chorus]
And I know just one thing
Love comes on a wing
And tonight I will be by your side
But tomorrow I will fly
Away
Love rises with the day
And tonight I may be by your side
But tomorrow I will fly
Tomorrow I will fly
Tomorrow I will fly

© – 2018 Nick Cave

My Phone Has Promised Me A Wee Little Icon of Sun!!

The sun has just now sprung from behind some clouds that have been hanging around, raining on us, for a couple of days now. According to my phone, with it’s long line of sun icons scrolling horizontally across the screen, we’re gonna have sun all day today.

I sure hope so. I could use some.

First, I want to mention that Bob Dylan dropped another new song during the night. This one titled, “I Contain Multitudes.” I have only listened to it once so far, and I was doing something else while listening to it, so I can’t really give an opinion yet, but it did have some startling lyrics, especially near the end. You can, of course, listen to it yourself wherever you stream your music, and decide for yourself. Why wait for me to be in my right mind? After all, that could be a long wait!

Yesterday was a very strange day. I was supposed to work with Peitor on Abstract Absurdity stuff, and right before I expected him to call, he texted me a really, really funny little cat video. And I mean, it was really funny. I texted him back. Then waited for his call. And he never, ever called.

I’m guessing he was not in the mood to work so I let it alone.  I have no idea if he’ll want to work today or not.

Today, I am ambivalent. I’m just gonna let the day come however it wants to. I might stream that benefit concert tonight, at least for a little bit to see what it’s like. But honestly, even though they’re comparing it to the Live Aid concert back in 1985, it doesn’t feel to me like it’s anything close to that. I could be intensely jaded now — lo, these decades later — but it feels more to me like a bunch of really famous people getting tired of sitting at home like everyone else.

And guess what? 35 days into my quarantine, and 15 days into the incomparable virus experience — I’m going to the dollar store today! To run an errand!! From everything I have been able to discern online from the Health Department — from no one who knows for sure — after waiting 8 days after the symptoms of the virus are over, it is safe to go outside, but still practice social distancing, etc.

(I actually love social distancing, gang. I am one of those introverted writers who actually prefers that 98.2% of all people everywhere maintain a noticeable distance from me. I can’t help it. But if you’re part of those 1.8% of all people everywhere that I actually adore, then I get extremely upset when you are not constantly in my field of vision.) (Oh, and I’m not kidding.)

Last evening, I watched some short subject films on Short of the Week. Doing my weekly research on that site, and I watched an animated short that I had meant to watch last week and forgot. Oh my god, was it good!! An animated, sci-fi, coming of age , quasi- space exploration story called, “Finding Uranus,” by Ivan Li. It is completely adult content, in the best fucking way. I totally loved it. (If you use a translator to read this site, “Finding Uranus” is a play on words: it’s partly about going into outer space to find the planet called Uranus, but it is actually about a young guy jerking off to a virtual reality thing that turns him into a tiny astronaut that goes off into space and then up exploring into some gigantic star constellation-gal’s anus.)

Well, it was too cool. It might be offensive to you, but it might not. You can watch the vimeo of it here. It’s animated and about 7 minutes long. (The guy who made it is still only in art school or something scary like that.)

I also voted yesterday! Yes, because of the State going into lockdown right before the Primary election last month, no one was allowed to vote, so my ballot to vote from home arrived yesterday. A Primary election means that you can only vote within your chosen Party.  And since I live in such a sparsely populated county, there was basically only one person running for each office within my chosen Political Party, so it felt a little superfluous — but hey, I voted! Plenty of Suffragettes suffered horrific atrocities and indignities to secure the Vote for Women, so I’m gonna vote. And I did. But it is really weird now — I’m so much older than a lot of the people running for political offices, so I was voting for people with names like Mollie and Cindy. I mean — that’s so weird. I felt like I was voting for 6-year-old girls.

Anyway. I’m sure that Mollie and Cindy will have everything all over Muskingum County under complete control.

I went to sleep kind of depressed last night, because of the combined issues of wanting to get back to my desk and really work, but not having enough energy or brain power to really do that yet, and also being someone who identifies way too personally with my work, so when I go this long without working/creating/writing, I start to lose my ability to understand who I am.

So I thought it best to just go to sleep and reset myself emotionally. But I awoke at 2:30am, feeling intensely sad. And I just couldn’t shake it, and at the same time, I couldn’t really understand it. Because, even though I am having to stay in bed a lot right now, still, my life is just so incredibly good. It didn’t make sense to feel so sad.

And I laid there like that for over an hour, and then suddenly got on Instagram and saw that someone I care about very much had just posted something and did in fact seem to be extremely sad — he seemed overcome with dealing with too much loss today, all across the board, really. And then I realized: Oh my god, that’s why I was so sad. And it broke my heart because there is absolutely nothing I can do, you know? I cried a little bit. That feeling of emotional impotence, when someone you love is suffering, far, far away. There’s nothing you can do to change anything. And anything you want to try to say just seems too obvious, you know?

I finally forced myself to get out of bed and feed the remarkably happy cats, and I tried to tell myself that at the core of us, each of us, is Spirit, and Spirit — that great Creative Source, whatever it actually is — is a foundation of energy that is pure, positive love. And so at least I have to believe in that, right? That love somehow makes sense of everything for all of us, at some point. Somehow.

And so then I felt like listening to Elvis — “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.” So I played that while feeding the cats (and myself), and it was so odd because one of the cats — Lucie — who is so emotional and so docile and so beautiful, was making these  intense expressions that seemed to be in response to Elvis’s singing. I know she really wasn’t doing that, but it was just sort of uncanny. And she made me smile.

Okay. I’m going to get my Saturday underway over here. I hope my journey to the store is uneventful and yet eventful at the same time — in all the best “I’m finally out of my house during a pandemic”kind of  way.  I hope the sun really does stay out all day today. I hope I don’t have to yet again spend most of this day in bed. I hope I lighten up on myself and stop worrying about never writing again.

Today would have been the start of the European leg of the Ghosteen tour for Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds — in Lisbon. In honor of that postponement, I leave you with my favorite Mark Kozelek song, “I Love Portugal.”

I, in fact, love so many songs that Mark Kozelek has written — including a killer and very, very accurate, heartbreaking song about Ohio, called “God Bless Ohio” — but I still keep coming back to this acoustic version of “I Love Portugal” as my favorite. And I think it’s actually quite appropriate, on several levels, for today. So I leave you with it, along with its 17 hundred million lyrics. Enjoy, gang. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“I Love Portugal”

In my hotel where the band is staying
I’m on dessert but what I’d give to not get on that plane
Woke to the sound of birds calling and I wanna water the flowers in the garden
And the maid scooting her tray around the echoey hall
I just want to stay in Porto today, that’s all
‘Cause when I’m here there’s a sense of calm
People living day to day and enjoying the moment
Last night we found a cozy place and we listened to fado music and we ate steak
And bacalhau and caldo verde
Then we went and got gelato and we drank iced lattes

And the fans have always shown me love (shown me love)
And so have my friends Vasco, Miguel, and Nadia, and Monica (Nadia and Monica)
I can’t complain, I get to visit every year
Last night my driver said my music brought him to tears

I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I love Portugal

Was listening to Mahavishnu Orchestra’s “Liala’s Dance”
As I drifted off into rare afternoon nap
Yesterday, one shot in Minnesota, one in Baton Rouge, and then retaliation in Dallas
Someone shot and killed five cops
And the cops came back and killed that sniper with a robot
But all was peaceful here at the Seculo Hotel in the Bonfim neighborhood of Porto
Now I’m on my way to Zürich at Gate 35
TAP operated by Swiss Airlines
I miss my quiet day in Porto, sleeping and listening to the many birds sing
And the shoe store that I wanted to shop in
Was closed and, man, it pissed me off
As we drove by twice on the way to soundcheck and on the way to the hotel that night

I’m gonna return some day, I know it (some day)
I’m gonna buy me a home looking over the river in Porto (river in Porto)
Gonna get me a plate of melon and prosciutto and grilled sardines, a cup of coffee, and a bowl of gazpacho (bowl of gazpacho)
The USA can’t pull the guns from the trolls of the country I live in
Can’t get a grip on gun control
If we’re gonna live with a president who’s a huge fucking asshole
Then believe me, baby, I’m gonna buy me a home in Portugal

I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
Where the people don’t walk
I love Portugal
They just stroll
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
Where the people go to bars, relax
I love Portugal
And listen to fado
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
Where I feel at peace from my
I love Portugal
Head to my toe
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
Particularly I love the city of Porto
I love Portugal

At the Rothaus, Room 301, in Zurich
The Bern show is cancelled tomorrow night due to violence and a bunch of crazy shit
It’s found its way into the venue
I’m not going to sing about it
I’m just gonna read the statement from the promoter to you

“Dear Mark, Dear all at Sun Kil Moon
I have really, really, really bad news. We’re deeply afraid but see ourselves in circumstances that unfortunately urge us to have to cancel. The Sun Kil Moon show at Dachstock Reitschule, Bern, the open space in front of our house Reitschule, Bern is causing increasing troubles with violence and sexes. An organized drug dealer and the [?] we decided to shut the place down and its ongoing activities. For a while, at least ten days, or maybe longer and find a way of how to deal with our society’s problems erupted in front of our house, creating a rather explosive atmosphere at times in front of our house. We’re very sorry that due to this reaction the show with Sun Kil Moon will have to be cancelled. As we’re in general enforcing this temporary shutdown, apologies for any inconveniences to you, I know your band just got into town. Of course we’re gonna pay full agreed guaranteed fee as well as covering your hotel for 12/7/16. Also tickets will be reimbursed, it can be used to see your show tonight in Zürich. We strongly hope you reschedule your concert in Bern next time your band is touring in Europe. Reitschule remains closed until further notice. Again, my deepest apologies, but it’s totally out of my control. Let me know if you need any more info
Sincerely, your promoter at Breathing Hope.”

I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
And the sparkling Douro River estuary
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
And when I die I want some of my ashes spread there
I love Portugal
And skip the Hail Mary
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I’m gonna back next year and I’m gonna find that same shoe store
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
It’s gotta be somewhere between the venue and the Fnac bookstore
I love Portugal
I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
And it doesn’t have a goddamned thing to do with football
I love Portugal

I love Portugal, I love Portugal, oh, oh
I love Portugal
I love Portugal

© 2017 Sun Kil Moon

The little baby elephant has left the building

I slept 11 straight hours last night, and somewhere during the worst thunderstorm I can remember hearing in a long time, my fever broke and I awoke this morning to find that the cute little baby elephant who’s been sitting on my chest since Sunday night had departed.

Amazon.com : Funnytree 7x5ft Rustic Wood Floral Elephant Party ...

I’m still having trouble breathing but that horrible weight in my lungs is gone.

However, before I collapse right back into bed again, I want to give you a few happy updates!

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds have posted the new dates for their UK & European Ghosteen tour!  (And now that I know I will be in Zurich on June 3rd, 2021, this pretty much means that I can count on everything important in my professional life, in the US and Canada,  being scheduled for June 3rd, 2021, as well!!)

Okay. I sure hope I’m kidding about that!

Also, Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand Files letter today, this one talks about the new, utterly amazing Dylan song, “Murder Most Foul.” (I’m still listening to it, gang. And when you consider that the song is 17 minutes long, it’s quite an investment of focus.)

An interesting thing about the song — I texted YouTube links for the song to all of my friends right when the song came out. Well, to the ones that I knew liked Bob Dylan. And Kara was the first one who texted me back about it, and she had the same first-response that I did. And she nailed it: “That violin…” she said.

I know. That violin. It sears right into you; it manages to both chill and awaken your heart. It’s incredible.

All right. I need to get back to bed, so I will post the sad news. John Prine had been struggling with COVID 19 since the end of March and he finally succumbed last night. He was definitely one of those people who had seriously complex underlying health issues, so I’m sad to say that I was not surprised he succumbed. Still, I wish he could have gone in a less horrible way.

John Prine’s songs were a huge part of the 70s and 80s for me, being that, at that point in my life, I was a country/folksinger-songwriter myself. And  into the 90s, when I met Wayne and we got married, etc.,  Wayne was also a big John Prine fan. And Prine’s album, The Missing Years, was one of the cassettes (!!) we played relentlessly in the car when we drove cross-country on our honeymoon.

So I’ll leave you with 2 distinct types of John Prine songs. The bluegrass type that I feel he was best known for, and then a song from The Missing Years, that features Tom Petty, and is about James Dean, a movie star I totally love (and it also mentions my beloved Grandma’s first cousin, John Garfield!! ).

I’m gonna close now because I’m super tired, gang. Sorry for any typos. But thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“That’s The Way That The World Goes ‘Round”

I know a guy that’s got a lot to lose.
He’s a pretty nice fellow but he’s kind of confused.
He’s got muscles in his head that ain’t never been used.
Thinks he owns half of this town.

Starts drinking heavy, gets a big red nose.
Beats his old lady with a rubber hose,
Then he takes her out to dinner and buys her new clothes.
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

That’s the way that the world goes ’round.
You’re up one day and the next you’re down.
It’s half an inch of water and you think you’re gonna drown.
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

I was sitting in the bathtub counting my toes,
When the radiator broke, water all froze.
I got stuck in the ice without my clothes,
Naked as the eyes of a clown.
I was crying ice cubes hoping I’d croak,
When the sun come through the window, the ice all broke.
I stood up and laughed thought it was a joke
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

© 1978 John Prine

“Picture Show”

A young man from a small town
With a very large imagination
Lay alone in his room with his radio on
Looking for another station
When the static from the mouthpiece
Gave way to the sound below
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.

[Chorus:]
And It’s Oh Daddy get off of your knees
Mamma why’d you have to go
Your darling Jim is out a limb
I put my picture in a Picture Show
Whoa Ho! Put my picture in a Picture Show

Hamburgers Cheeseburgers
Wilbur and Orville Wright
John Garfield in the afternoon
Montgomery Clift at night
When the static hit the mouthpiece
Gave way to the sound below
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.

[Chorus]

A Mocca man in a wigwam sitting on a Reservation.
With a big black hole in the belly of his soul
Waiting on an explanation
While the white man sits on his fat can
And takes pictures of the Navajo
Every time he clicks his Kodak pics
He steals a little bit of soul.
Every time he clicks his Kodak pics
He steals a little bit of soul.

[Chorus]

Yie Hi! Put my picture in a Picture Show
Here we go!
A young man from a small town
With a very large imagination…

© 1991 John Prine

Well, so much for THAT story…

My day here sort of derailed. And if you saw my earlier post, I decided it was more uplifting to just delete it. And, actually, I’m more than happy to be your little dog — if you saw the post; if not, well, then that makes no sense!

My Abstract Absurdity Productions meeting bit the dust today.  My partner there in LA is exceedingly stressed about the toll the virus is taking on the world. So we didn’t work today, which, you know., upset me because even though I’m healthy and happy here in Crazeysburg, I have absolutely no one to talk to.

But, you know, we all have to make adjustments right now. And try our best to allow the people we care about to adjust to things in their own way. And in their own time.

So,  I decided to stop being a crybaby and just get back up on my little pony and ride.

I hope you guys have a good evening, wherever you are in the world. Stay inside, if possible. Wash, wash, wash (and water can be fun, if used discreetly — I’m just saying!!). And try to focus on things that make you feel hopeful and even happy, okay? You gotta do that, otherwise you’re going to tear your hair out. (And it’s gonna take a long time for it to grow back in.)

All righty. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!!

Some Things to Ponder!

Well, Spring starts tomorrow! That’s really good news, right?

What I love about the seasons, gang, is how reliable they are. They always come back around. I love that the sun comes up each day, too, and that the moon goes through its phases each month “like clockwork,” and the ocean waves keep coming back to the shore.

These are all things to think about right now. And also that everything passes through, moves on, transforms.

As we’d feared, though, Nick Cave finally came to the decision to postpone the start of the European Ghosteen tour. He announced it today on the Nick Cave web site, and also in his Red Hand Files letter this morning. (I’m guessing his server crashed from all the responses he got to that announcement, though! I sent a response and his server told me “too many comments, slow down” or something like that.)

Also, things to keep in the mix as you hang out, like me, in your isolation and/or quarantine, the world over right now (meaning March 19, 2020), there are over 137,000 known cases of the virus but over 123, 000 of those are mild. Close to 86,000 people have now recovered. China now has more recoveries than people who are sick with the virus, and the professional show business news outlets, expect movie theaters in China to be open again by the end of March (about 2 weeks away).

So, like all other viruses and epidemics, it comes and passes through. And we adjust to all of it. The UK news outlets yesterday carried the story of Dr. Dongchen Wu of the Wuhan area of China who has cured 9 elderly patients now of Covid 19 by use of stem cell injections.

Assuming this is accurate news, it gives us reason to hope that by the next “flu season” there could be a cure or vaccine for this. There are good reasons to balance the stress and difficulties of “right now” with these other ideas.

As illustrated by China right now, the virus comes in, balloons, subsides. It doesn’t just come and stay eternally.

Also, at least here in America, people get really angry when you compare the Covid 19 virus with the regular “flu,” because we allegedly “know” what the flu is and what it’s doing, but it seems evident that just this season alone, between 22,000 – 55,000 Americans have died from the flu. And between 370,000 – 670,000 were actually hospitalized because of it. So we still don’t have a grip on the flu  by any stretch, but we have managed to find a way to still live our lives in the wake of it, every single year. (The stats come from the Center of Disease Control.)

These are just things to think about in the midst of everything bombarding us on the national news. There is always the reality of
“right now” alongside the reality of change.

Meanwhile, here in Muskingum County, no outbreaks yet. We still have toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels. We still have food. We still have gasoline at $1.83 per gallon.(Which could be an indication that I’m actually dead now and living in the afterlife, which, in that case, means you should disregard everything I’ve just written above!!)

If you follow me on Instagram (whether from the afterlife or from Earth), you saw that I actually ventured out and got a pizza last evening! I have never done that in the 2 years I’ve lived in Crazeysburg. I love pizza but I don’t eat it too often because in this part of the country, it simply doesn’t compare to the pizza you can get in NYC. Sorry to have to say that, but, alas, it is true.

But I was really hungry and I’d been stuck inside alone for about 96 hours straight already (not exaggerating on that, gang) and I thought, not only would pizza be great, but it would also support the one & only restaurant here in Crazeysburg. (You can only get take-out in Ohio now; there’s a Governor’s mandate right now that no one can congregate in bars or restaurants, so all those establishments are really hurting financially.)

So I went out and got a pizza!! Yay. (Cheese, onions and green olives. Is that weird? I really like green olives on my pizzas. I’m not sure why.) It was indeed  weird, though, inside the place because of course the women who work at the pizzeria aren’t allowed to get anywhere near you. (Oh, we also have plenty of hand sanitizer here, too.) So, you know, you walk in the door of the pizzeria, which is entirely empty of other customers, and all the staff members immediately move very far away from you. You feel like Covid 19 walking.

But at least I got out of the house. For about 9 minutes.  And I ate something besides organic oranges, tomatoes, baby spinach, arugula, Greek yogurt, berries, granola, non-organic dark chocolate, and Neapolitan ice cream… (If you study that list, you’ll see that it’s reasonably healthy but fucking boring for 96 hours straight!)

Okay, well. Today is Booty Core and hair-washing, and sitting at the desk and writing something!! (And eating the stuff on that list that I’ve just regaled you with, but now add cold, leftover pizza…) It could be so much worse. I count my many blessings every day, gang. I’m guessing that you do, too.

Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a good Thursday, wherever it finds you in this big, beautiful world! We’ll say goodbye to Nick Cave and his fellow Bad Seeds for now but not forever! I love you guys. See ya.

“We’ll Meet Again”

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where
Don’t know when.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.

Keep smiling through
Just like you always do,
‘Til the blue skies
Drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know.
Tell them I won’t be long.
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin’ this song.

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

© – 1939 Charles Hugh, Ross Parker Clarke