Tag Archives: Nick Cave Red Hand Files

All Sorts of Happy Things!!

March 25, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

You know, this morning, in my Inner Being dialogue journal thingy, my Inner Being informed me that there was no actual blueprint for my day.

This probably seems insane to you — that my Inner Being would even take the time to tell me something that seems like a no-brainer to anyone else on Earth. But my days are so intensely structured, day after day after day, that I do not have any clue how to simply relax and do nothing.

I absolutely do not know how to do this. I have no clue.

This stems from years and years and years of battling depression and suicidal tendencies and mental illness. Keeping myself on a productive schedule, forcing my mind to stay occupied with creative things, has literally kept me alive.

However, now that the whole world has come to a standstill, this rigid schedule is starting to have a little bit of an opposite effect — that whole “Groundhog Day” thing, where everything feels exactly the same as yesterday, and so I wake up each day, wondering ~~what~~ ~~Nick Cave is wearing~~ wondering what am I going to work on today, what am I going to have for breakfast, will I do yoga or Booty Core later, etc., and it all feels eerily the same.

Since I don’t want to inch even minutely in the direction of depression, my Inner Being apparently advised me to let go of the rigid structuring for a change of pace.

So, what might seem crazy to you, feels like a godsend to me!

And it occurred to me that maybe right now isn’t the best time to be working on In the Shadow of Narcissa, since it’s not something I want to post online anymore — or not regularly. And my blog readers really like erotica, so maybe I should just work on something erotic, that I can post online? Maybe something for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse?

So I’m thinking about that — about switching gears for today. (Or maybe even for the duration of the pandemic.)

And I also want to thank you guys who are buying my books right now, even the titles that are not on Smashwords and that are not on sale. I really appreciate that, since these are not new books.

And I am struggling with this idea of whether or not I should continue to self-publish, in order to get my new work in the pipeline sooner.

I honestly just don’t know. I chose to self-publish Freak Parade, after 5 years of publishers telling my agent that they couldn’t categorize an anti-hero like Eddie Ramirez, so how would they market it? When I self-published Freak Parade, it cost me a good chunk of money to hire someone to design the cover, hire the model, do the photo shoot, and then an editor to professionally format the text. But it did go on to take home the Silver Medal in its category at the Independent Publishers Awards at the Book Expo in NYC that year, so I was really, really proud of that. I was up against actual small presses.

I’m not going to attempt to self-publish if I can’t keep up those types of standards, and then I think: well, if I’m going to invest in that, why not just start my own small press again and publish other writers like me who can’t get small presses to reply to them anymore?

And, of course, the last time I did that, I wound up in Federal Court, looking at prison time and enormous fines…. (Thank God for the ACLU. I really mean that.)

So, as you can guess, it is not an easy decision for me to make, but it’s in my mix of thoughts during the day. And I know it’s simple to format/publish eBooks. I could have Blessed By Light published later today if I wanted only that. But I don’t. I know Blessed By Light is a strange book — it’s just a man talking for 186 pages. But I still think it’s a beautiful book. And I also think it’s a book.

Okay, well, Peitor and I texted a bit last night regarding some Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff and I thought I would share this with you!

No! It is not another new logo — instead, I draw your attention to “our girls.” These are the women who work in our office — they are the power behind Abstract Absurdity Productions who actually get things done!! (We just love these girls!! They lived & loved & worked in Paris in the 1920s. We have no idea who they were, but they live again in our offices!!)

Aren’t they great??!!

More good news!! I was informed during the night that, because I had pre-ordered Nick Cave’s new art book, Stranger Than Kindness, on Amazon UK, I actually saved money on the final price. So a book that was going to originally cost me $17 million US Dollars, actually came to just under $30 when it was all said and done! So, pre-ordering the book saved me $16,999,970 US dollars. Quite a significant savings, if you ask me!

(I just can’t wait to get the book! I saw on Instagram that people in Europe began getting their copies in Monday’s mail.)

And speaking of Instagram — whether or not you follow me there, my current Instagram posts are always visible here on the blog. If you follow my blog on a computer and not a phone, that is. That weird photo today is of a bald eagle feeding a baby eaglet in its nest yesterday! I was actually trying to copy video footage but it came out as a still photo and you can’t really see what it is. But it was taken in a park over in Granville yesterday.

I was so excited to see that. The people in Granville have worked really, really hard to bring back the population of eagles in the parks over there. (By the way — the header at the top of my blog, with the autumn leaves and the church spires — that is Granville. Not Crazeysburg.) (Granville is a really beautiful small town — and a very expensive one!! It’s 25 miles from where I live. And even though it is a small town, it is still 5 times larger than Crazeysburg.) (My friend Kara lives there.)

Okay.

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter this morning. As you can maybe guess, it dealt with the virus and Life these days. You can read what he said at the link there. It is, as always, very compassionately stated.

Today, it is going to be sunny and mild here in Crazeysburg. Later today, I will more than likely open a window or two so that the cats can get a better look at all the many birds flying hither and yon — still just starlings and robins, mostly. But there are a lot of them!

And it’s a Booty Core day, so I’ll be doing that later, too. And then I’ll be figuring out what I feel like writing, because I have been informed by sources who are in the position to know these things — that my day does not have a blueprint I need to follow or anything. So we’ll just see!

Have a very good Wednesday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting! Stay hopeful. Don’t let your mind drift to the dark places. Stay creative, in whatever ways that speaks to you, okay? Or maybe just take a nap. Or four. Or seven…

I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning! One of the few Bee Gees songs that is actually really uplifting and not sad at all! “More than A Woman.” It is a really joyful song that I have some great memories of being a wee frisky 17-year-old girl attached to. (I actually did know some really wonderful guys in high school — crazy, insane, funny, kind.) The song was a huge hit during my senior year in high school, when the movie Saturday Night Fever was the most popular movie at the box office. (I think I saw the movie about 5 times — back then, movies hung around in the theaters and played for months so you could always go back and see them, usually for $1.) Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“More Than A Woman”
(from “Saturday Night Fever” soundtrack)

Oh, girl I’ve known you very well
I’ve seen you growing everyday
I never really looked before
But now you take my breath away

Suddenly you’re in my life
Part of everything I do
You got me working day and night
Just trying to keep a hold on you

Here in your arms I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now I think I would die

Oh say you’ll always be my baby
We can make it shine, we can take forever
Just a minute at a time

More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, oh, oh, oh.

There are stories old and true
Of people so in love like you and me
And I can see myself
Let history repeat itself

Reflecting how I feel for you
Thinking about those people then
I know that in a thousand years
I’d fall in love with you again

This is the only way that we should fly
This is the only way to go
And if I lose your love I know I would die

Oh say you’ll always be my baby
We can make it shine, we can take forever
Just a minute at a time

More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, oh, oh, oh

Some Things to Ponder!

March 19, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 5 Comments

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

Last Night, I Had A Dream

March 13, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

That Fluffy, my wonderful, goofy, intensely loving little stray cat, was alive again. And frisky and fluffy as anything you ever saw. She was scampering all over my living room. (That’s her, pictured above.)

She had been in a nursing home (of all things) because she was ill and dying (in real life, she died at home in my bed, from cancer, back in September 2016, and then, sadly, Bunny had a heart attack and died only a month later).

In the dream, I went to get Fluffy from the nursing home and she was no longer sick. In fact, she was getting ready to have kittens!

(In real life, when she first decided to come live with Mikey Rivera and me, she was still very young, starving, ill with pneumonia, infested with fleas, and pregnant with kittens. We took her in and took her to a vet, who assured me that Fluffy wouldn’t survive. I decided otherwise. I had the kittens aborted and kept her in quarantine for a very long time. And she lived to be 10 years old.)

This time, in my dream, Fluffy was obviously so healthy and full of life that I knew she and the kittens would live and I was so excited that, soon, I would have kittens scampering all over the house again. And I knew I was going to keep every one of them.

So. Well. I’m having a bit of a broken heart here this morning, I’m not going to go into why. But I felt that the dream was encouraging. I don’t really know how to interpret it, but it just made me feel hopeful. About the power of life, I guess.

Well, at this point maybe it won’t surprise you (it sort of surprised me, though, I have to say), that Peitor continued all day yesterday to tinker with that new logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. He did some amazing work on it. But each time I thought that it was great, he tinkered some more and it was even more amazing.

However, he sent me so many versions of the logo in texts yesterday, that now I can no longer tell which one I like better or why. We are working on the phone today, so I’m guessing we’ll be going over that and choosing one. (I hope.)

I woke up this morning and suddenly recalled how meticulous he is — a true perfectionist. And I suddenly had a vision of perhaps being in a film editing studio with him, editing one of our future 45-second movies, and perhaps tearing my hair out…

ME (to him): “I thought that was real good.”

HIM (to the film editor): “Obviously I still need to study this. Let me see that one frame again.”

ME (thinking): oh no…

Then:

ME, CONT’D (17 million hours later): “Oh my god, Peitor — that’s fantastic.”

HIM: “I know.”

BOTH OF US (accepting our Academy Award for Best Short Subject Film of the Year):

ME (wondering where Nick Cave is and what color suit he’s wearing): Silently staring at audience.

HIM (holding the actual Oscar): “…each element and perspective, and placement for not only aesthetic but also thesis…”

All righty!! Of course, I am 100% not kidding!!

However, let me tell you a couple of things. Quite a few music Divas from the 1970s saw their careers land back to the top of the Billboard Dance charts 30-40 years later, after hiring Peitor to write songs and produce for them.

And I remember, vividly, a time I was staying with him in LA — when he had this really lovely garden townhouse on N. Fairfax off of Sunset Blvd. I was in LA promoting Neptune & Surf because it had just come out (this is over 20 years ago). And I was up in the guest room, just killing time because Peitor was under a really tight deadline to compose a 60-second piece of music for some sort of Simpson’s movie. (Yes, the animated Simpsons.) He was at that piece for hours. And I could hear him at his keyboard the entire time. And he was going over & over & over one certain refrain. And I mean, for hours he was doing this — one section from a 60-second piece of music.

And then finally a messenger came to pick up the tape. And finally Peitor and I went out to dinner. And when we came home, another messenger had come by to slip an envelope under Peitor’s door and in it was a check for $36,000. For that 60-second piece of music.

‘Nuff said. So. If he wants to tweak that logo 17 million times, I say, “let him!!”

Okay!!

Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand Files letter thing this morning. Pertaining to the Bible, and to Mary Magdalene, specifically. It meant a lot to me, what he said. You can read it at that link there if you so choose!!

I need to scoot because I have stuff to get to before Peitor calls. I hope you enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world. And just remember that love is beautiful, no matter what, so just be brave, okay? I leave you with two things today. A song from the 2013 album, Push the Sky Away, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (The cool lyrics-in-progress are in the video). And then also my breakfast-listening music from this morning: the titular song, “Graceland,” from Paul Simon’s 1986 Grammy winning album-of-the-year, Graceland.

I love you guys. See ya.

“Graceland”

The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war

I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland

She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead

And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

I’m going to Graceland
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland

And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

c – 1986 Paul Simon

Quite the Morning Here!

March 6, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

First off, I want to say that Nick Cave’s Red Hand File thing today was wonderful. He replied to a question involving some of his past often intensely provocative lyrics and how he handles them in the year 2020 — a time which has lost “its sense of humour, its sense of playfulness, its sense of context, nuance and irony“.

He wrote just a really well stated reply. And as usual, he doesn’t back down. If you’re a writer, it will definitely resonate with you on some level. You can read it at the link above.

For me, you know, so much of what I have written in my life was never, ever, even for a moment considered politically correct or acceptable in a public way. So I haven’t really had to brace myself for a future audience that might suddenly view it differently. (Unless of course that meant that suddenly my work was acceptable!! Yay! That would be so cool. You know — for my work to not always have to be read in private, or to exist in that segregated place.)

Actually, Valerie and I were talking on the phone about that the other night. How in the next century, after AI sexbots like Thug Luckless had become the norm and everybody owned one, my work would be considered classics of popular literature and they would be adapted for whatever the future form of entertainment would be — you know, 3D-hologram virtual reality streaming TV shows that might takeover a person’s entire living room and the viewer can become part of my overall erotic storyline. Right?

My future might be very bright in that regard. (Someone will find out for sure, but probably not me.)

My future’s so bright I gotta wear shades.

On a sort of Nick Cave-related note…

Today, the MP3 version of Rowland S. Howard’s acclaimed solo album from 1999, Teenage Snuff Film, is now available for download! Go get it at a (legal) download place near you!!

Okay. I can’t tarry today. It is once again Abstract Absurdity Productions day. (They seem to come around quite often now, don’t they?) I have to get some things done before my phone call with Peitor.

Have a really good Friday, though, okay? Thanks for visiting, gang. It means the world to me to have you here. I’m going to leave you with a killer song from Teenage Snuff Film — “Autoluminescent.” I love you guys. See ya.

“Autoluminescent”

I am blinding
Autoluminescent
I am white heat
I am heaven sent
I was a nightmare
But I’m not gonna go there
Again

Into the black hole
The house of no contest
Make mine a meteor
Rise me above the rest
I’m soaring through outer space
There is no better place
To be

I’m bigger than Jesus Christ
I’m greater than God in light
I am dangerous
I cut like the sharpest knife
I’m going nova
And I hope I can hold her
In

Into the darkness
I gave away myself
Slipped on the spiral stairs
Tumbling down the well
I fell on a soft spot
I’m white heat, I’m white hot
Again

c – 1999 Rowland S. Howard

Another Industrious Day Out Here in the Hinterlands!

February 25, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Before I go off on a tangent about how magical and wonder-filled my world is here in the wilds of Muskingum County…

Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand Files thing this morning that was very interesting. It was about his song “Girl in Amber” from the Skeleton Tree album. Plus it includes a photo of his original scribbly lyrics to the song and I always love looking at stuff like that.

“Girl in Amber” is one of the few songs of his that I actually sort of relate to personally. Even though I love all of his songs (as you have most likely surmised by now), there are only a handful that I feel like I actually relate to personally — that makes me think of things I feel about my actual life, I mean. (“Hallelujah,” of course, is another one.) (And “O’Malley’s Bar.”) (Just kidding about that last one.) (Well, at least right now, I’m kidding — but the day’s still young!)

Anyway. What he wrote about the song was illuminating and beautiful. It is such a haunting song, You can read his post here if you so choose!

Okay, so today is all about work. (And by way of my new friend in Switzerland, I am now painfully aware that I work way too much!!) (Oh!! And my ticket to see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds in Zurich arrived there today!! And even though the concert is 4 months away, unlike Nick Cave’s In Conversation tour, I won’t have to worry about accidentally leaving my ticket here in my room in Crazeysburg because the ticket is already there in Switzerland! Um. How cool is that??) (Very, very cool.)

I digressed. But it was a wonderful digression!!

So, yes. Today is all about work. The laundry is almost done. After I post this to the blog, I’m finally going to force myself to finish those 2 contracts that I had to re-write for Life Story Rights for my play, Tell My Bones. (Yes, indeedy! When I want to avoid something, I can really, really drag it out for days…) But I seriously gotta finish it because people are waiting.

And then I have a few hours on the phone with Peitor this afternoon to work on Scene 5 of Lita’s Got To Go! And this is my very favorite scene. It was actually the whole reason why we decided to write this short film in the first place — this specific scene was the thing that came to us first, while we were sitting at the counter of that French pastry place in one of those farmer’s markets in LA, and we were laughing so hard we almost fell off our counter stools.

(I just want to reiterate that most people won’t find this film so funny that they’ll fall off their counter stools. We are the ones who find it this funny. I’m guessing that most of the people who watch this movie will sit silently for 8 minutes and wonder: What the fuck? But that’s a good thing, too.)

Then after I’m done working with Peitor, I have yet another online seminar, this one about movie financing for short films. (Yes, I try to only take the most uplifting, life-affirming seminars! Because I like to come away from them thinking: Yeah! This is so fun! I love my life!)

So that’s my day — oh, and Booty Core. Can’t forget that.

Well, yesterday, I had to venture into my barn (shown above there) for the first time since the summer ended and it was immediately apparent that the raccoons have definitely been having a nice time in there this winter, including creating their own little front door to get into it (ripping aside some planks at the bottom of one of the side walls of the barn). I really seriously gotta do something about fixing that barn. But I really seriously need someone to haul away that enormous dead oak tree that collapsed beside the barn before I can really work on the barn. And all the many people who have claimed they were coming to remove the tree over these past 2 years that I’ve lived here, have never shown up to remove the tree.

Perhaps this year will be the lucky year!! We shall see. At this point, I am willing to buy the damn chainsaw myself and give it, as a happy parting gift, to whoever actually shows up to do the darn job.

And on my journey back from the barn, I also noticed that the soffit over the eave next to my back door — the one the starlings insist on fucking with in order to build their nests under it every spring — is now completely twisted and destroyed. It is a colossal mess now because I didn’t take care of it when I could have — last spring, when the baby starlings flew away. I’m guessing that the starlings will be thrilled to death that it is move-in ready for them this year and they won’t have to fuck with it at all this time.

It’s just amazing — what a great homeowner I am. The many birds and animals appreciate me, anyway. My neighbors – not so much.

Oh, anyway. I’m happy. And eventually, it all gets done.

Okay, well, I think I’d better get this day underway here. I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang! I leave you with my listening-music from last evening. I’ve posted it here on the blog before: “Time to Move On,” from Tom Petty’s solo album, Wildflowers, 1994. The lyrics by themselves make it seem like a sad song, but I actually find it sort of empowering and uplifting. You can, of course, decide for yourselves! All righty. I might be back to the blog later. We’ll see. Meanwhile. I love you guys. See ya!

“Time To Move On”

It’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

Broken skyline, movin’ through the airport
She’s an honest defector
Conscientious objector
Now her own protector

Broken skyline, which way to love land
Which way to something better
Which way to forgiveness
Which way do I go

Time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

Sometime later, getting the words wrong
Wasting the meaning and losing the rhyme
Nauseous adrenaline
Like breakin’ up a dogfight
Like a deer in the headlights
Frozen in real time
I’m losing my mind

It’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

c – 1994 Tom Petty

Dear Diary, What A Difference A Day Makes!

February 20, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

First of all, Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files thing today was really cute. You should go check it out. One of the people who wrote to him today was really funny! I laughed out loud. (He has now had 20,000 letters written to him by way of The Red Hand Files!) (And, no, I did not write 19,993 of them…)

Okay. Yesterday saw a brand new Page One come into existence for Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.

I was very, very happy with it because it feels to me like Thug has really found his voice. I’m re-writing the whole thing from scratch, by the way. So, a new “page one” appearing is a really exciting thing. I call it “finding my way in.” Once that voice comes, I know that a book is as good as written. Now all I have to do is actually physically get it down onto the page. But the excitement factor for me in creating something new in the world has certainly arrived and I just love that feeling.

(If you’re new to the blog: Thug Luckless is my new novel-in-progress. He is an AI male sex robot who is abandoned in a post-apocalyptic town after his female owner dies suddenly. And no one in the town knows how to turn him off so he just goes around, fucking all those jaded and lonely women that you so often find in a post-apocalyptic town. He becomes a sort of misused fixture in the town (called P-Town — and not because it’s Provincetown). But it’s actually a story about coming into a gradual awareness of Self. Self-awareness, self-discovery, the Higher Self, through the intimacy of sex, whether it’s sort of forced or otherwise. ) (I guess it’s “spiritual pornography” — that always-easy-to-market book publishing category…)

Anyway. I’m excited about it. I really am. I love Thug Luckless. And as God is my witness, someone will publish it!

All righty!

Some other really, really exciting things happened yesterday! In addition to discovering more auspicious ladybugs in the house (!!), and a plethora of hoverflies (what’s up with that?? I found three in my house just yesterday afternoon — those are the flies that look like bees but aren’t), I also went down into my creepy basement and finally changed out the filter in the furnace. It was several weeks overdue and my sinuses were acting up again.

I can’t emphasize enough how much I really don’t enjoy going down into that 119-year-old unfinished basement, replete with a bonanza of spiders, passing the cold winter months near the toasty furnace, and just a bunch of other stuff that you glance at and think: “what the hell is that?” And then you just quickly change the filter and get the heck out of there…

So that’s done for the next 3 months. I’m already breathing better. It’s practically instantaneous. (Not only is this a really old house that’s just naturally full of dust and I’m allergic to dust; but it is also a house filled with 7 cats and I’m allergic to cats.) Anyway. I’m breathing better.

The other thing that happened yesterday is not quite as exciting as finding a bunch of insects and going down into my creepy basement, however — I was very kindly and generously invited to go to Switzerland in June and see the lovely country and meet its lovely people (and hopefully get some more cool coasters in the airport) and also see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds at the Hallenstadion!! Yay. And the ticket has now officially been purchased!!

How cool is that, gang? I mean, honestly? I’m really so excited and so grateful. What a great day yesterday was. People can be so wonderful.

And to be precise: this will be the first actual vacation I’ve had in years. Truly. I always travel for work-related things. They are never “vacations.” Ever. Ever. Ever. I don’t think I’ve been on a vacation since I went to Copenhagen with Wayne back in, like, 2001 (wherein, I also decided that I wanted a divorce so that was a super happy vacation). I’ve traveled a huge amount since then — London and Paris a few times; Bristol, NYC many times, and LA a few times, San Francisco — even to Cleveland, for god’s sake. But they were all work-related trips in one way or another. Doing readings, book-signings, taking endless meetings, setting up massively time-consuming new business endeavors with colleagues overseas, etc., etc., etc.

So, I am so excited. A vacation. Meeting new people. Going someplace that I’ve always wanted to go. I just can’t wait.

However, between now & then — man, I have a lot of work to do. And I guess, on that cheery note, I’m gonna get started here. Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope Thursday is really just spectacular — full of unexpected delights and reasons to rejoice. (I know — I don’t ask too much from a mere Thursday, do I?) I love you guys. See ya.

Wow, that’s a Day that Went South

February 11, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

And I don’t mean south to sunny Florida, or anything like that. Although it did stop snowing…

My meeting with Peitor was really, really productive. Even though we didn’t work on the script. It was more business stuff that we were trying to –well, as he put it; “Marilyn, you’re very good at getting all the ducks in a row.” And I actually am. So we did that. So that we can accelerate our schedule, have a couple of micro-micro shorts completed, have our business plan together, etc., and start getting the meetings he wants.

I can’t stress enough how well connected he is, but I also can’t stress enough how much I believe in the effectiveness of setting schedules and sticking to them. Not going on for years, finishing one short script.

So, we were in a really good place. And then right at the end of the meeting, Peitor says: “Okay, well, let me tell you a little bit about what’s going on over here.”

And then he proceeded to tell me, and it was all I could do to keep myself from sobbing. Because I know that tears aren’t going to help anything. Or anyone. Not even me. But sometimes I can’t just keep getting lost in my work, or in my projects — which is where I always “go” when the life around me seems hopeless. I hit the wall of futility.

I know nothing is actually futile, until you actually give up. But sometimes it is just how I feel. And so I have to work hard, hard, hard at not giving in to that feeling.

This is stuff stemming from Peitor’s dad dying last week, and other things not related to the death but that are equally intrusive and disruptive and unforeseen.

And I know I have to be an empowering friend, not a crybaby friend. So I find the best possible words to say out loud to him, while inside I feel like crumbling to the ground.

And when we got off the phone, I went to the dollar store and found ice cream that had even less calories than the last kind I bought and was still, you know — it has flavor, anyway, and it’s not terrible for you.

I realize that ice cream doesn’t solve anything. And I still did my booty core — and I’m actually losing weight, although I’m still getting those curvy-wurvy things that annoy me a bit.

But anyway, I ate ice cream. And I let myself get angry. And I cried a little bit at the kitchen table. And I texted him and I said, “Should we push the schedule ahead by a couple months?” And he texted back, no, that he wanted to stay on schedule. So on we go.

But inside, I still feel angry and defeated — a little bit anyway. At the sort of “nebulous” world, I mean. Not at Peitor. I just get tired of life. You know me by now. That’s my fall-back position: I’m done with this. Life sucks. However, I can’t actually allow myself to feel that way because Peitor is counting on me to be the exact opposite.

So I give up — but I can’t actually give up. And I hate everybody — because people suck, people are lousy, people are self-motivated and full of fucking stupid fear — and yet, what I actually feel is love for every fucking person on the planet. (Which is why, when people suck, it hurts so much, you know?)

Anyway. I haven’t been able to get any of my own writing done yet today. The night is still sort of young, so I’m going to keep trying.

Oh, and then the upstairs toilet broke. It’s one of those low-flow, water-saving things and that center thingy in the middle of the inside of it, just stopped. Thank you very much. So now I have to try to locate a reputable plumber who’s willing to come all the way out to Crazeysburg (and I guarantee you, that is not easy; no one knows where the fuck this place is. But all you have to do is set your GPS to the Land that Time Forgot and you will find me, easily!!). I know it’s a simple fix once you buy the new part, but not so simple if you aren’t a plumber…

So, I’m super excited about that.

And I’m hoping that tomorrow, I will wake up and feel just better about everything, for some as of now hard to fathom reason.

Well, on another topic entirely — Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File thing this morning. It was just another one of those amazing ones. You can read it here.

I’m gonna go. See what I can do about convincing myself that I’ll figure this all out at some point and everything will make sense. And seem okay. Okay? I hope you’re having a good night, wherever you are in the world, gang.

I leave you with this lovely hymn that my birth dad’s mom used to sing. I love you guys. See ya.

“Farther Along”

Tempted and tried, we’re oft made to wonder
Why it should be thus all the day long
While there are others living about us
Never molested though in the wrong

When death has come and taken our loved ones
It leaves our home so lonely and drear
Then do we wonder why others prosper
Living so wicked year after year

Farther along we’ll know all about it
Farther along we’ll understand why
Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine
We’ll understand it all, by and by

Faithful ’til death, said our loving Master
A few more days to labor and wait
Toils of the road will then seem as nothing
As we sweep through the beautiful gates

Farther along we’ll know all about it
Farther along we’ll understand why
Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine
We’ll understand it all, by and by

c- 1911, disputed authorship

This Is Why You Have To Stay Married!

February 6, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

It used to be that when I wanted Wayne’s feedback on something I’d just written, all I had to do was get up from my desk chair, go into the other room and hand it to him and then stand there while he read it and then listen to what he had to say.

But once you get divorced, you relinquish those rights!

Now you have to do this thing called “patiently waiting”!! (Nobody warned me about this, btw, and that just doesn’t seem fair.)

When I was married, I didn’t have to be patient about any fucking thing under the sun (and I’m sure he would be very willing to concur on this. I think, if I recall correctly, that far distant dialogue went something like this: “Christ, Marilyn, can you just give me a fucking minute??!!” Exact topic involved is immaterial.)

Anyway.

Nowadays, I have to email him a doc file and wait for him to have time to get on the PC and download the file and then read it, formulate a (glowing) opinion and then text me.

(Which reminds me!! Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files thing today, sort of all about texting. It was very fun (and even educational — although he neglected to include the phone number where we can all text him at when he’s hanging out in an airport). (I’m thinking that’s just an oversight that he will correct later today.) Anyhow. You can read it here if you so choose!!)

Well, Wayne did at least text me again yesterday, saying that he was going to read the new version of Tell My Bones “soon” and get right back to me. However, “soon” is one of those words that is wide open to interpretation.

And when you’re no longer married you also relinquish the right to “badger” the person who used to be part of your legal property. You can’t just keep going over and disturbing whatever it is he’s trying to do at his own desk, and say, “Come on, man. I’m waiting.”

So now, with no legal rights left, I’m just sitting here, waiting. If you can imagine that. And I really, really do want to know his opinion on how the play is ending now. That part is not a joke. I’m really relying on his insights here and I don’t want to look at the play again without hearing his opinion of the ending first. (Which I don’t believe is working as good as it could be but I’m not sure why.)

The director is really busy with some other project in NYC right now, and I won’t be able to get his complete attention about this until something like February 15th. And I just don’t want to wait that long. And I can’t concentrate on any of my other projects right now because I want to sign off on the play. And I want to feel that I’ve made it the best it can be, for now.

So I’m waiting. (We’re going into Day 3 here…) (Of course “three’s the charm” is something we so often hear but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything at all.)

Meanwhile, I keep getting weather alerts on my iPhone telling me that it’s snowing out. I’m not 100% sure how they define “snow” because I keep going to my window, all excited, and seeing only freezing rain. And I love snow, so it just feels like it’s one of those days where everything, on all fronts, is sort of working against my ability to achieve bliss.

You know, in sort of a round-about way — thinking about bliss, lack thereof, marriage, etc. — one of the things the late bandleader/clarinetist Artie Shaw says in the Ken Burns Jazz documentary, is how he began to really hate having to play the song “Begin the Beguine” because that was what the audiences always wanted to hear and they never wanted to hear anything else.

I can understand why he felt that way (this is going all the way back to the late 1930s, btw), but it made me kind of sad because, in all honesty, if God himself asked me what my actual very favorite song of all time was, it would not only be “Begin the Beguine,” but it would also be Artie Shaw’s version of it.

I’m really serious. Nothing moves me like that specific song does. That song is really the only song ever written that fills me with enough hope about love that when I hear it, I can actually imagine getting married again. (I don’t know to whom, I’m just saying that song makes me feel that hopeful about the nature of love.)

If you don’t know the song, Artie Shaw didn’t write it — Cole Porter wrote it. And tons of people have recorded many versions of it over the years, but Artie Shaw’s instrumental version of it from 1938 was the most popular version of it, ever. (Followed closely by Ella Fitzgerald’s version of it, which includes the lyrics, which are wistful indeed.)

So, even though I understood why Artie Shaw felt that way about the song, it made me feel a little sad because I am just so grateful that he recorded it at all and that he did such a brilliant job of it. It is so joyful, so smooth, so free. (And it makes me just want to drink a vodka martini straight up, with 3 olives, and light up an unfiltered cigarette, too!) (But not alone.)

Okay, well. I am going to get back to sitting patiently, awaiting a text. See how the day unfolds. Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope the world is going your way today, wherever you are in it. I love you guys. See ya.

“Being the Beguine”

When they begin the beguine
It brings back the sound of music so tender,
It brings back a night of tropical splendor,
It brings back a memory ever green.

I’m with you once more under the stars,
And down by the shore an orchestra’s playing
And even the palms seem to be swaying
When they begin the beguine.

To live it again is past all endeavor,
Except when that tune clutches my heart,
And there we are, swearing to love forever,
And promising never, never to part.

What moments divine, what rapture serene,
Till clouds came along to disperse the joys we had tasted,
And now when I hear people curse the chance that was wasted,
I know but too well what they mean;

So don’t let them begin the beguine
Let the love that was once a fire remain an ember;
Let it sleep like the dead desire I only remember
When they begin the beguine.

Oh yes, let them begin the beguine, make them play
Till the stars that were there before return above you,
Till you whisper to me once more,
“Darling, I love you!”
And we suddenly know, what heaven we’re in,
When they begin the beguine

c- 1935 Cole Porter

Oops! Another One That I Forgot to Title!!

January 31, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

You know, I started working out religiously when I was 12 because, culturally, it’s just what you did. You were supposed to stay fit. Not because you needed to be “fit” at age 12, but because you were setting up good habits for the rest of your life. (Seriously.) (And this was before junk food and fast food took over the whole nation. I actually did not know anyone, yet, who was overweight.)

It’s sort of weird, right? How my entire life seems to have been about making sure I look really good when I finally die.

But, anyway. By “culturally” I’m talking about upper-middle-class white Midwestern America, because that’s what we were when I was 12. In 1972.

And I wouldn’t have dreamed of not working out. I was told to work out, so I did. Back then, it was calisthenics. In fact, when I was 11, I won one of those President’s Physical Fitness awards in gym class, which was all about calisthenics. The award was a congratulatory letter from the President of the United Sates and a patch that looked like this (mine was a “1” not a “3”). And when I won mine, guess who was President??!! Nixon. (Man, I wish I’d kept that letter!) Anyway, it looked like this:

So, from a wee bonny age, even the President of the United States, marred as he was by scandals that seem so harmless nowadays, urged me to get off my tiny butt and stay in shape!

And so I’ve just always done that. For a long time, it was calisthenics. And I mean, a really long time. And then, in the 1980s, it was aerobics. That was the craze. I did that for years, and that was actually really fun. In fact, Cher made a couple of aerobics videos that were really great. I loved those.

I also got into “the gym” stuff–free weights, rowing machines, stationary bikes, treadmills. I loved all that stuff. (Except when it came time to get rid of them. That part is never fun.) (And I recall one afternoon, when I was still living in the hellhole tenement apartment on E.12th Street in the East Village, one of my 5 lb. free weights accidentally rolled out the open 5th-story window, and as I was racing down 5 flights of stairs to get to the street, I’m envisioning someone dead on the sidewalk with a fractured skull, and me facing Manslaughter charges and a trip to Rikers Island, all expenses paid by the City of New York… but what I found, thank god, was a little Puerto Rican boy, walking off with it and I had to beg him to give it back, as he loudly proclaimed the “finder’s keepers” rule.)

Anyway!!! Yes. So, I have been doing yoga now for about 13 years. It has kept me sane and it also helped me stop drinking myself to death, back when I first moved back to Ohio to look after my ailing adoptive mother, and then found out that I had made just a horrible error in judgment. Moving back here was just a terrible, terrible mistake.

And since the ill-advised move back to Ohio coincided with the man I loved turning out to have a horrible gambling habit that wiped me out of my entire life savings — including a $9000 check from the insurance company to get a new roof put on my house (as much as you might truly love somebody, you know, think really, really hard about giving them one of your ATM cards. Seriously. Or, if you do, then check your bank balance, like, every 5 minutes.). And that horrible thing happened right when the world economy tanked and ravaged the publishing industry, putting 4 of my primary publishers out of business on the very same day…

Yes, when all of that happened at once, and I woke up every single morning wanting to commit suicide (and I continue to give thanks to the beautiful and gifted writer/publisher/editor Sean Meriwether in NYC — of Velvet Mafia fame — for taking so many of my distraught phone calls back then and helping me not kill myself) — well, I ultimately chose heavy drinking instead. And, you know, that’s gonna kill you, too. So truly, yoga saved me. It did. A couple of my girlfriends back in NYC who were really worried about me persuaded me to at least try yoga, and I wound up loving it on so many levels and it did really save my life.

So I’ve been a yoga-type gal for 13 years now. But yesterday, for whatever inexplicable reason, I decided to buy a 21-day video Pilates-type workout program, called Booty Core. I’m not sure what possessed me to suddenly switch it up — I’m not, like, obsessed with my butt or anything. I’m not even obsessed with working out; it’s just something I’ve always done. But you know what? I’m pushing 60 now, and back around the holidays, I was hanging out with a female friend who is 32. And a pen rolled off the table and down to the floor and then under the bar a little bit. So I got down on the floor — actually knelt all the way down and reached under the bar and got the pen. And she was literally aghast. She said, “How did you do that? At your age?”

I was, like, mystified. “How did I do what?”

“Get all the way down on the floor like that and then get right back up?”

Jesus, you know? I just found that so weird. And then she said, “I can’t even do that!” And she’s only 32-fucking-years old! It was just so weird. And I guess I thank god for President Richard Milhous Nixon and all the good habits he instilled in me — and trust me, that’s not a thing I ever thought I would find it in me to say.

So. I’m gonna try Booty Core for 21 days and see if maybe I can pick up a lot more pens from the floor!

On another topic.

Only a couple of photos posted to Instagram last night from the first Conversation in Brussels with Nick Cave. Although there were quite a few posts, but only, like, 2 people actually took photos during the show. But everybody who posted, of course, loved it. And it sounds like maybe he’s doing a few songs from Ghosteen now. (?) Tonight is the last night of the Conversations tour. I’m guessing he will continue to have conversations, but none that we are invited to attend (even if we pay him!!) and that just sucks!

I’m sorry, I don’t have a photo credit for this. I grabbed it from the ticket sales site in the Netherlands.

I am going to go out on a limb here and encourage you to never attend a Conversation with Nick Cave. Because then you will never, ever want it to end. (And if you slavishly follow the posts on Instagram, as I do, you will see that I am not the only one who says this!!) I imagine that, if for some inexplicable yet heavenly reason, I ever ran into him on the street, I would dig out whatever loose change I could find in my pockets, hand it to him and try to get him to answer a question for me. Any question. (ME: “Here!! I have 14 cents. Will you please tell me what it was like the first time you had –“)

Because his answers are awesome.

Which reminds me, that the very moment I posted to the blog here yesterday, Nick Cave sent out another one of his Red Hand Files letter things. And it was uncanny. Whoa, like, it made me want to go right back to the blog and remove my post. If you recall yesterday’s post, it was all about my trying to come to terms with how fucking strange my writing always is. And yesterday’s Red Hand Files was all about whether or not you had to be mentally ill to be a great artist…

Anyway… my own fucking insanity aside, it was another really great Red Hand Files, because he is just so eloquent. And I’m just so frustrated that his In Conversations are going to end. Again.

Okay. I really gotta get moving here. Peitor will be calling from West Hollywood momentarily because we have to work on our micro-script and, of course, now the pressure feels sort of intense. Like, you know, we actually have to finish this darn thing, make the video, then make about 8 more…(!!)

For whatever weird reason, this song was in my head the moment I woke up this morning, and so I played it throughout breakfast and I’m leaving you with it today!! From the 1960 Broadway musical Camelot. (Yes, the very year I was born.) “How to Handle A Woman.” As sung here by Richard Burton. Okay, thanks for visiting, gang. I hope today is good to you, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys. See ya.

“How To Handle A Woman”

“How to handle a woman?
There’s a way, ” said the wise old man,
“A way known by every woman
Since the whole rigmarole began.”
“Do I flatter her?” I begged him answer.
“Do I threaten or cajole or plead?
Do I brood or play the gay romancer?”
Said he, smiling: “No indeed.
How to handle a woman?
Mark me well, I will tell you, sir:
The way to handle a woman
Is to love her… simply love her…
Merely love her… love her… love her.”

c – 1960 Lerner & Loewe

Could It Get More Auspicious??!!

January 29, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

My god.

First, I got out of bed at about 4:48am. Stuck my little feet into my cuddly slippers. Opened the Venetian blind and, lo & behold! SNOW outside!! Everywhere!! Yay!!

And just now, when I opened my laptop to get down to the blog post for today, this was awaiting me! Another ladybug!!

A ladybug inside my laptop in the dead of winter.

I am, of course, taking it as another sign! Of what, I don’t know, but it’s probably really good. It really just sort of blew me away. (See my post from a couple weeks ago re: the other ladybug and Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files thingy about signs, from the summer.)

And I’ll say here that I think the city of Nijmegen, in the Netherlands, is one of those places that is full of rule-followers because very few people have posted anything at all to Instagram from the Conversation Nick Cave had there last night. The main person who did post (some great video stuff!!), was also at the previous night’s show in Eindhoven, where everyone posted tons of amazing stuff. So that person doesn’t count as “someone from Nijmegen.”

Of course, if I’m in attendance at a show, I seriously hate when people use their phones during the performance because they get incredibly distracting. However, if I’m not attending, I really want everybody to use their phones!! How else will I know what it was like??

I know. They say that you can’t have it both ways. However, I am someone who has dedicated my entire life to getting it both ways! In every way imaginable! So this is cause for consternation.

Grumble, grumble.

Meanwhile. Yesterday, I got this:

Yes, another chemise and it’s the dead of winter, but it was indescribably inexpensive. And I loved the color. So I got it, even though I won’t be able to wear it until spring.

And even though it fits perfectly, it’s one of those clingy kinds. I normally don’t like “clingy” because I am still trying to understand how I became a woman who has curves. Honestly. Forever, it seems, I had always been 34B-32-35. Almost straight up & down.

Post-menopause, even though I only weigh 6 pounds more, I became 40C-32-38. It’s just crazy. I can’t get used to it — that gal in the mirror. And it’s not like I finished menopause yesterday or anything. It’s been 14 years already. I’ve had quite a while to get used to this. (I “changed” early — at age 46.)

There are so many things about being post-menopausal that I absolutely love. But this “curvy” thing. Man. I look like somebody’s mom, without the benefit of being anybody’s mom. And it’s weird to look like a mom when I’m only 12…

Anyway. I decided to keep the chemise because it fits and its soft and the color is really pretty. And I decided that I guess this year is the year I will try to get used to having curves. I’m guessing I’m gonna have them for a really long time now. I don’t see this as a situation that’s going to reverse, or anything.

Okay, well!! Yes, yesterday, I finished the character arc revision to Tell My Bones!! I’m super eager to hear what the director has to say. I’m still not 100% happy with a small chunk of dialogue that comes right before the ending of the play, so I know I will eventually want to focus on that. However, yesterday evening, I got an email from a small press in NYC that I am really intrigued by so I want to take all of today and go over Blessed By Light, from start to finish; make sure I don’t want to tweak it at all, or if I do, then tweak it. Then send the novel off to the publisher.

So I have a long editing day ahead of me here and I’m going to get started.

Have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting! I leave you with my breakfast-listening music. Still on Neil Diamond’s Hot August Night, but this time it’s “Sweet Caroline” — probably my most favorite version of this song. All righty. I love you guys. See ya!