Tag Archives: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Can You Say “New Barn Door”??!!

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I can!! The Amish guys will be here soon!!

Another dream coming true here in Crazeysburg, gang!

Wow, last evening was just the most amazing summer evening in a small town. Okay, I realize that, technically, it’s not going to be summer for about another week. But still. It’s June. It glorious weather. It’s summer.

The weather was so perfect last evening, that everyone was out and about — either riding bikes or riding motorcycles, or sitting  out on their lawn chairs around the fire pit, and/or playing music, etc.  Up until about 9:30 at night, when the sun finally disappeared from the sky.

On evenings like that, a lot of the neighbors are usually smoking weed, too, and the smell of it wafts into all my open windows from all directions, but now that lockdown for most public places ended this past Wednesday, I guess the weed-smokers were out at the lake…

Local Crazeysburg pot-smokers at the lake…

I know that you’re probably thinking, from the way I get so upset here on my blog about the state of America in general, that I must be in the thick of it — but none of those things are actually going on in Muskingum, County.  Like most of rural America, the virus put in a negligible appearance here; social distancing is practiced, but masks are not worn out here, etc. And the riots/protests didn’t happen out here, either — and, practicalist that I am, I’m guessing it’s because way too many people in rural America, including Muskingum County, own plenty of guns and aren’t at all squeamish about using them.

But that’s just a wild thought off the top of my cynical head…

It’s funny how people in rural areas tend to know the Constitution, though, especially that part where it was determined that the 2nd Amendment gave individuals the right to bear arms to protect themselves (and their property)…

Well, even so.  And even while the tiny village I live in is remote, I do still get upset about the shape of the rest of the country because I’m not able to separate myself from the rest of the country, or even the world, really, for that matter.

But that said — last night was just like some sort of dream. It really was. I felt just so grateful that some higher power found this house for me in the middle of beautiful Nowhere, Ohio. (Even if it means I have to breakdown and buy a male AI sex robot in order to have someone to enjoy it all with!!)

Okay.

Well, my dad has indeed decided to move! At age 90. Not to Florida, thankfully, but at least to a less restrictive senior retirement type place. He’s currently in Independent Living, on a nursing home compound, which will remain under lockdown probably until January, and he’s losing his mind. He’s in very good health — except for that recent stress-related thing a few days ago, which was also related to the lockdown. He’s only at a nursing home place because my stepmom needed to be there, but she has since passed away. So he’s moving to where things are no longer in lockdown. And now he has to seriously down-size his possessions. In 2 months…

This means that all those art work thingies of his that I have absolutely no room for but really, really want, are soon going to be mine. So that will be interesting, gang. I am so serious when I say that I have absolutely no room for any of it!! But I’m not going to let it get given away.

So, yesterday, I got great work done on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. So I am really happy about that. I’ll probably be working on that exclusively today.

And then, during the night, William, over at a1000mistakes blog in Australia — who is always making lists related to music, bands, books about bands, live concerts — posted his Top 100 favorite Nick Cave songs.

I was astounded by this! Not just the fact that he took the time to do that, but that he was able to categorize all those great songs into some sort of preferred order.

I cannot even imagine being able to do that. I’m only able to pick, like, my top five if I’m forced to do it. To think about it, I mean. And even then it gets hard to put even 5 great songs into some sort of preferential order.  So, to me, his list was just fascinating.

Plus, growing up in Australia, he has had ready access to lots more Boys Next Door records and Birthday Party records, too. I have very little of that stuff and have had to sort of poke around on YouTube to even find it. So that was cool, too! You can check it out at this link if you’re so inclined.

Okay. I guess I’m going to get started around here!  When you next hear from me, I should have a brand new barn door!! Finally!! I hope your Saturday is just as magical, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting, gang.

I’ve been in a Bee Gees mood around here lately — the love songs this time, and not the heartbreaking songs, for which they are so renown! So I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning: “Too Much Heaven.” It was off their Spirits Having Flown album from 1979, which has a couple other mega-platinum hits on it, as well.  So, listen and rejoice.  And enjoy your beautiful day. I love you guys. See ya!

“Too Much Heaven”

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Oh you and me girl
Got a lot of love in store
And it flows through you
And it flows through me
And I love you so much more
Than my life.

I can see beyond forever
Everything we are will never die
Loving’s such a beautiful thing
Oh you make my world… a summer day
Are you just a dream to fade away

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

You and me girl got a highway to the sky
We can turn away from the night and day
And the tears we had to cry
You’re my life…

I can see a new tomorrow
Everything we are will never die
Loving’s such a beautiful thing
When you are to me, the light above
Made for all to see our precious love

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Love is such a beautiful thing
You make my world a summer day
Are you just a dream to fade away

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as wide as a river and harder to cross

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It’s much harder to come by
I’m waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It’s as high as a mountain
And harder to climb

© 1979 Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb, Maurice Gibb

Life Not Only Goes On, It Gets Better!!

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Well, if you saw last evening’s post, you’ll know by now that we had intense thunderstorms around here, and even a tornado near by.  But it blew out all the high heat and humidity that was keeping me from being able to breathe all day yesterday.

PLUS!! My new dust buster arrived yesterday afternoon!! I mentioned it in a previous post this week. I got one of those high-powered ones, to hopefully make it easier to deal with all the cat hair around here (and cat litter that flies everywhere, too).

And it works like a charm!! I love this fucking thing. It keeps its battery power for a long time, and it truly is high-powered. It was kind of astounding to see how much filth it was picking up from deep in the carpeting.

If you’re sort of a cleaning-freak, like I am, you can no doubt relate to how cool I found that high-powered suction thing, and it made me just want to clean and clean and clean!!

So I did!!!

And it doesn’t disturb the cats nearly as much as the vacuum cleaner does, so I hope I won’t have to bring that out as often anymore. We’ll see!

So the combination of an awesome breeze blowing throughout the house at dawn this morning, and coming downstairs to a thoroughly clean house and cool temperatures… there’s just NO WAY this isn’t going to be a great day.

Okay.

Well, the other day, I bought an online course about the theology of Martin Luther and the complicated launch of the Protestant Reformation, beginning in 1517 A.D.  I’ve been listening to it a little bit every night before I  go to sleep.

I studied the Reformation in Divinity School, of course. And I’ve also done a ton of studying on my own about the various sects that also sprang from that era. Plus, my ancestors were not only alive in Germany at that time, but they were living in that region of Germany that was directly affected by Martin Luther’s tumultuous change of the Church.  And they were definitely practicing Protestants, there are surviving records to prove it, so I find it really interesting to think about them and what it was like to live through those times of enormous change. (It wasn’t “just” the Church that changed because of Martin Luther; it was the scope of the Western mind.)

Anyway. The course is fascinating. And no disrespect intended, but, man, Martin Luther was really kind of nuts!!

I’m (sort of) just kidding, gang. But before he settled on his theology of the Gospel, his teachings went to some seriously dark and masochistic and  impossible places.

When I was 13, there was a cinematic version of the play, Luther (written by John Osborne), that I saw in the movie theater, so I was at least aware that Martin Luther was extreme.  But now that I’m way, way, WAY older, and a minister and all that, I understand now just how extreme that man was. Wow.

I find that kind of stuff so interesting, gang. I really do. Even though it’s safe to say that I  don’t adhere to any of those Lutheran ideas or beliefs,  I’m still fascinated by the religious arc of the Western mind over the centuries. I just never get tired of learning about all of that.

So, as it so often turns out, the medicine they had prescribed my dad when he got sick last week, only ended up making him sicker. So the doctor told him to stop taking the medicine yesterday, and he’s at the doctor’s office right now, this morning. So, here’s hoping he’s going to finally be back to normal here soon.

He’s the kind of person who will only listen to a doctor, you know? We both knew the medicine itself was making him really sick, and I really wanted to tell him to stop taking it, but I knew he would just ignore me because I’m not a doctor! So I was relieved when he finally called the doctor and the doctor told him to stop taking it!

I find it so amazing, honestly, how some people treat doctors as if they’re actual gods and as if medicine, simply because it’s prescribed by a doctor, holds some special inalienable power. Meaning, that their brains are just so locked into that kind of reverent thinking, they can’t even bring themselves to question it.

I’m just so not like that and never have been. I guess because I have to question and ponder everything. (Which, of course, can get really annoying to the people around me.) But if I’m going to be forced to consider another human being to be “God,” I’d rather just give in and call Nick Cave “God,” as so many Europeans are wont to do!!

(I am, yet again, sort of just kidding…)

Another cool thing that happened — now that I currently have no main barn door on my barn, that storm last evening blew through the barn and blew open one of the side doors of the barn, and also the shuttered window on the other side of it. There’s no glass in the window — just wooden, hand-made, 110-year-old shutters!

I can see that side of the barn from my kitchen window. And this morning, when I went out there to the barn to close the shutters, I saw that there are some old eye-hook type things at either side of the shutters, so I can keep them open if I want to.

And do you know what that means??!!

Yes!! It means I can get yet another window box, plant flowers in it, put it in that barn window all summer long and see the flowers from my kitchen window!!

I’m so excited. (I’ll also be able to see Kevin’s vintage 1965 VW camper van through the open barn window all summer long, not quite as exciting, but still…)

The one draw back is that it’s a long trek from the kitchen, where I’d have to get the water every day to water the flowers.  I’m not sure how excited I’ll be about doing that, every single day, all summer long. I already have to make 7 trips a day, in and out of the kitchen, to water all the flowers on both of my porches…

Anyway. We’ll see. I just felt really excited when I realized it today.

I read on Deadline Hollywood yesterday that Johnny Depp’s documentary of Shane MacGowan, Crock of Gold, has been picked up by Magnolia Pictures in North America. Which means we’ll probably get to actually see it!!

I love Shane MacGowan. And I loved The Pogues, back when he was the driving force of the band. And it’s one of those things where I am continually astounded to discover that most Americans (especially if you’re not Irish-American) have never heard of Shane MaGowan or The Pogues. In NYC, especially back in the 1980s — back then, at least, NYC was an intensely Irish town — The Pogues were really popular.

I had all of their albums and EPs, up until Shane MaGowan essentially drank his way out of the band. At this point, though, after decades of having to jettison more albums with every move I’ve had to make, I’ve only kept Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash and If I Should Fall From Grace With God. But they are two incredible albums, gang. I’m so excited to see that documentary.

Okay. I’m going to get started here now. I hope that Thursday is just as beautiful where you are today, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I’ll leave you once again with two listening options today:

The song that, when Nick Cave sang it solo on his In Conversations tour,  caused people all over the world to call Nick Cave “God.” The song is, in fact, titled “God is in the House,” from the truly timeless and amazing Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds album, No More Shall We Part (2001).

And then one of my favorite Shane MacGowan songs, which couldn’t be more different than the Nick Cave song: “Sally MacLennane,” from The Pogues album, Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash (1985). Compare and contrast!! Listen and enjoy, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“God Is In The House”

We’ve laid the cables and the wires
We’ve split the wood and stoked
the fires
We’ve lit our town so there is no
Place for crime to hide
Our little church is painted white
And in the safety of the night
We all go quiet as a mouse
For the word is out
God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
No cause for worry now
God is in the house

Moral sneaks in the White House
Computer geeks in the school house
Drug freaks in the crack house
We don’t have that stuff here
We have a tiny little Force
But we need them of course
For the kittens in the trees
And at night we are on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
For God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
And no one’s left in doubt
God is in the house

Homos roaming the streets in packs
Queer bashers with tyre-jacks
Lesbian counter-attacks
That stuff is for the big cities
Our town is very pretty
We have a pretty little square
We have a woman for a mayor
Our policy is firm but fair
Now that God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
Any day now He’ll come out
God is in the house

Well-meaning little therapists
Goose-stepping twelve-stepping Tea-totalitarianists
The tipsy, the reeling and the drop down pissed
We got no time for that stuff here
Zero crime and no fear
We’ve bred all our kittens white
So you can see them in the night
And at night we’re on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
Since the word got out
From the North down to the South
For no-one’s left in doubt
There’s no fear about
If we all hold hands and very quietly shout
Hallelujah
God is in the house
God is in the house
Oh I wish He would come out
God is in the house

© – 2001 Nick Cave

“Sally MacLennane”

Well Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Now Jimmy didn’t like his place in this world of ours
Where the elephant man broke strong men’s necks
When he’d had too many Powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that he’s leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

The years passed by the times had changed I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beers and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and horses to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy’s making money far away
And some people left for heaven without warning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

When Jimmy came back home he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak but Jimmy drank until he choked
And he took the road for heaven in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again
(Far away) sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

©  – 1985 Shane MacGowan

You KNOW I’m In A Mood When You See *THIS* Guy

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I’ve been sitting here at my desk  in front of the blog template for almost an hour already, unable to clear my mind and get to someplace fun & happy!

I hate using this blog to preach about shit, but I also hate just ignoring the blog for an entire day because I can’t think of something fun & happy.

So many of my readers here are not from the US. You come here to the blog every day from South America, Central America, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, Africa, Asia and countries of the Far East, the Middle East, the Near East, India, Canada, and Russia.

And of course it makes me wonder what you can possibly think about this insane country of ours, especially now.

Oh — and by the way, in case you hadn’t already heard, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds announced yesterday that their North American tour, which was set to begin this fall, has been cancelled.

And, NO, they didn’t say it was because the US is so insane right now that they wouldn’t be caught dead here…. it was something to do with a pandemic.

Anyway!!

The news here this morning is that Columbus — the nearest city to Crazeysburg, 50 miles from here — announced that those few nights of rioting is going to cost the city and its small businesses over $3 million. (This doesn’t count what the pandemic has cost them, either. Small businesses have absolutely lost their shirts from the virus.) (If you don’t understand that phrase — it means that you have lost everything, including the shirt off your back.)

(I don’t know — doesn’t that look like at least 3 million more votes in Trump’s lap? Hmmm….)

That remark wasn’t really my point. My point is that this is a democracy, and people are always going to protest about something, and sometimes the protests will be violent, and there are always going to be factions in this country virulently opposed to other factions in this country. And the fact that we are allowed to have our opposing ideas, and even our violent opinions, and our individual understanding of what truth is even when it’s completely at odds with what everybody else’s truth is, is what makes a democracy so sacred to human rights.

However, the thing that confounds me about the US now is this whole up-swelling of younger people who have the misunderstanding that a democracy is a “cancel-out” culture. That if  someone disagrees with you, that person needs to be cancelled out (silenced) in some way.

(My problem with my play, Tell My Bones, comes under that banner, but I want to add that the director called me twice yesterday, assuring me that he was not abandoning the play. That we were going to have to wait it out, for when NYC gets back to some sort of “normal.”)

The sad situation in our country is that most public schools no longer teach History or Government, or even World History. Private schools are where children get the prime education nowadays — whether they are Catholic schools or strictly academic schools.

Public schools are no longer funded well enough to focus on anything but the basics. There’s no Art, no Music — without parents paying separately for it, and then it usually happens after school. A lot of the schools no longer even have libraries. And even the school sports teams are funded by parents paying for the kids to be on the team.

Yes — isn’t that insane? You no longer have to try out and see if you’re good enough to make the team. If your parents can afford to pay for you to be on it, you’re on the team.

What’s even worse, is that sports like swim teams, that hand out trophies for 1st, 2nd, 3rd place — well, now anyone who participates gets a trophy. Just for showing up. Because no one wants any of the kids to have hurt feelings.

This has been going on for a couple of decades already.

Even at the college level — a friend of mine is a college professor and he’s not allowed to use red ink to grade papers because the color red is too threatening to students.

This is not a joke. This is real. Red ink is too threatening.

An entire culture of young people coming out of our public schools who are not adept at handling challenges or conflicts or the opposing opinions of others.

And they aren’t taught how a democracy is run, either. They don’t even study the Constitution of the United States or the Bill of Rights  anymore (in public schools). They aren’t taught History, for godsakes. Or that tolerance, however difficult it can be, or impossible it can feel sometimes; it’s the foundation of the civil liberties of all Americans.

(And I guarantee you that a lot of politicians are banking on you not having a clue what the fuck is really going on with all that anymore. Even if you think you’re on the “right” side. That same side is banking on you not knowing how to even really think.)

I just saw a comment just this morning where a well-known Hollywood actor was making a movie about a revolution in another country and he said that it made him think about how the Europeans came to America and what happened then to the Native Americans who were already here.

Honestly — he had to act in a movie in Hollywood before that thought occurred to him??!! WTF??!!

When you study History and World History and Government you learn about things that are really important.

About how history has an uncanny way of repeating itself — all over the world. And to expect that violence is met with violence — so, if you want to choose violence, which is your right, you need to expect violence to come right back at you. Whether you’ve murdered someone, or whether you’re fighting for your inalienable right to live.

It has astounded me, the outcry in the national news that the recent riots were met with riot police, or even the militia. Or that what was intended to be a peaceful protest became violent anyway — on either side. Or that people with an organized agenda of some kind will barricade themselves behind innocent, well-meaning  people and allow them to become victims of violence that they didn’t start.

Where is the “news” in that? This has gone on throughout all time.

And so many people bringing up now what happened at Kent State in 1970, when the Ohio National Guard was called in and unarmed students were killed.

Yeah, that happened. I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that in school. It’s part of our history — people fighting for change and for their rights and losing their lives because of it.

I can’t forget it because I lived here back then. Ohio was very violent back then, and the country itself was very violent. Non-military groups, of all colors, were arming themselves and were setting off bombs everywhere and blowing up buildings. Shooting all sorts of people — on all sides.  Aside from flat-out assassinations, well-known public people, from politicians to pornographers, wound up in wheelchairs for life because of snipers’ bullets. And riots were common. And blow back was common.

It’s awful. I’m a pacifist and always have been. I cannot handle violence. I expect something more rational from all people. And I’m usually really disappointed. But violence is a part of an equation. We’re all allowed to make any choice we want to make, but we also have to at least be aware that no action exists in a vacuum. There’s going to be a reaction — it’s part of the laws of Physics.

That stuff that they teach you in school, right?

Anyway. It all sucks, of course. But what I have a hard time dealing with is this lack of education in a huge section of America, and this lack of critical thinking and this idea that Liberals — who were once the embodiment of tolerance — are now at the forefront of the culture of cancelling-out; of silencing people; of  the idea that someone is not entitled to their views if they oppose yours.

And this lack of History. My god. Honestly. If I see one more person putting forth the image of Bob Dylan and quoting his song “The Times They Are A-Changing”, I’m going to scream.

The times are changing. It’s a no-brainer, gang.  But you’d be much better equipped quoting other songs he wrote, that weren’t so “feel-good.”  He wrote a ton of them. I leave you with a couple of those today.

All right thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

 

“Only A Pawn In Their Game”

A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood
A finger fired the trigger to his name
A handle hid out in the dark
A hand set the spark
Two eyes took the aim
Behind a man’s brain
But he can’t be blamed
He’s only a pawn in their game

A South politician preaches to the poor white man
“You got more than blacks, don’t complain
You’re better than them, you been born with white skin” they explain
And the Negro’s name
Is used it is plain
For the politician’s gain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
On the caboose of the train
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
And the marshals and cops get the same
But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool
He’s taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
‘Bout the shape that he’s in
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks
And the hoof beats pound in his brain
And he’s taught how to walk in a pack
Shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide ‘neath the hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He ain’t got no name
But it ain’t him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game

Today, Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught
They lowered him down as a king
But when the shadowy sun sets on the one
That fired the gun
He’ll see by his grave
On the stone that remains
Carved next to his name
His epitaph plain
Only a pawn in their game

© 1964 Bob Dylan

“With God On Our Side”

Oh, my name—it ain’t nothin’
My age—it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I’s taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that the land that I live in
Has God on its side

Oh, the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh, the country was young
With God on its side

The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I’s made to memorize
With guns in their hands
And God on their side

The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don’t count the dead
When God’s on your side

The Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side

I’ve learned to hate the Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It’s them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side

But now we got weapons
Of chemical dust
If fire them we’re forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God’s on your side

Through many dark hour
I’ve been thinkin’ about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can’t think for you
You’ll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side

So now as I’m leavin’
I’m weary as Hell
The confusion I’m feelin’
Ain’t no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And they fall to the floor
That if God’s on our side
He’ll stop the next war

© 1963 Bob Dylan

Ah, Those Carefree Non-Pandemic Days of Summer!!

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Well, to be honest, around here, the lockdown is as good as over. And by June 10th, pretty much everything will be open again, but social distancing is still going to be required.

(Oddly enough, June 10th was the day I graduated from high school — 42 YEARS AGO!!!!)

Honestly, I don’t even understand that number…

Okay. Well, I did a little bit of laundry here this morning. And I sort of looked around the various rooms of this bonny house of mine and decided that, without a doubt, everything needs to be vacuumed again.

The cats are on some sort of mission right now to shed as much as they possibly can. I told them, pretty plainly, that it’s not funny anymore and I brought out the vacuum cleaner and left it in the middle of the family room floor for them, as I always do. And they barely even glanced at it and then went and sat in the windows to watch the birds, as they always do. So we’ll see who breaks down and gives in first… Here’s a hint, though:

Me:

Them:

All righty!!

Actually, the main reason I hate vacuuming is because it scares the bejeezus out of all the cats. Even after all these years, they are still absolutely terrified of it. They dart everywhere and knock things over, and hide behind the dryer, which disconnects that big hose from the dryer vent, and then I have to move the dryer and reconnect it…

Stuff like that. Every time I vacuum. So, sometimes, I look at all the cat hair starting to accumulate again everywhere and I look at all the cats lounging around so blissfully, and I just sigh and say “fuck it.” But eventually, you know. Someone’s gotta do it. After all, I’m allergic to cat hair…

Yesterday, though, I ordered one of those little Black & Decker high-powered dust busters. You know, just flick it on and off, and not worry about having to constantly wheel that vacuum cleaner out of the hall closet and send everyone scurrying.  So we’ll see if that helps. Because, honestly, allergies aside, I am a bit of a cleaning freak. But I’m such a huge softy when it comes to not wanting to upset the cats!

All righty.  I heard from the Amish guys last night. Next weekend my new barn door will arrive!! I’m so excited.  A whole new era in living here will get underway. 24/7 access to my barn. How cool.

You know,  usually, on the rare times when I can get access to it, I am really reluctant to spend too much time in that barn. I don’t want to say that I sense spirits or energy everywhere I go, but I am sensitive to accumulations of energy. I think we all are, actually, but I just pay a lot of attention to it.

For instance, when you go house-hunting, you can just tell when the energy inside a house repels you. I always wait until I walk into a house and feel that rush of joy, that feeling of “home,” and then nothing will change my mind — I have to have that particular house.

I totally felt that way about this house — I wanted it from the moment I set foot in it. there are energies all over this house; really joyful, happy energies.

But the barn itself has like a sort of accumulation of energy. Intense. Not bad, or anything, but I always feel like I’m intruding on someone when I go in there. It’s very noticeable to me. I’m thinking that if I can spend more time in it, I will get more used to that feeling and I can finally have my gardening shed!

Well, okay. I guess I don’t really have much to say today. I need to get back to my writing. It’s just a really lovely day here. I’m looking forward to just sort of enjoying it.

Oh, before I forget, there was an alert yesterday from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds that, starting in July, they’ll be uploading fan-made videos to the Bad Seed TeeVee channel. Submission guidelines are here.

Okay! I hope you have a happy Saturday, too, wherever you are in the world.  Thanks for visiting, gang!! I leave you with one of my favorite scenes from the old Walt Disney movie, The Aristocats — “Everybody Wants to Be A Cat.” You need to get at least one minute in before it really starts swinging!! It is quite jazzy!! All righty. Enjoy. And on that note, I love you, guys. See ya!

And This Is How I Feel About That!

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Well, yesterday was a really unfortunate eye-opening sort of day.

I was more than happy to participate in the black lives matter hashtag because I do believe, with every fiber of my being, that the civil rights of black Americans need to be respected without question, 24/7.

However, I also believe that about every American. There are, unfortunately,  a whole lot of Americans who are indeed treated like second class citizens, at all times. That’s gone on for as long as I’ve been an American.

Civil liberties are extremely important to me, and because of that, I’ve learned the really difficult part of that — and that is that sometimes I have to support the rights of people I absolutely do not agree with but it’s the underlying foundation of being part of a Democracy.

It’s a really delicately balanced give & take, and because of that, America’s destiny has always been fraught with extreme emotions and outright violence. But I don’t support violence. I am a complete pacifist. And I don’t support racism of any kind.

I chose not to participate in the Black Out on Instagram yesterday because it felt a little like being forced by the Union to walk the picket line, even when you see some huge holes in the agenda that you can’t get on board with. For instance, the violence. And the underlying anti-white agenda that’s going on there, too. And the militant thinking, etc.

Not everyone is in all those camps, but all those camps were under the banner of that agenda yesterday.

Signing on for the Black Out meant you were supporting the whole kit & caboodle, and I’m not such a generally-sweeping kind of gal. I prefer to stand back and be a critical thinker and throw my support behind each specific thing that I truly believe in.

But standing back, allowed me to see some of the really inexcusable stuff that went on. For instance, people choosing to not participate in the Black Out but posting their own meaningful posts about nonviolence instead, were slammed as racists.

Sean Ono Lennon springs hugely to mind. He posted an incredibly thoughtful post, in line with his Buddhist beliefs in nonviolence, and that nonviolent revolutions bring on more substantial change, and instead of being praised for being his own person and having his own mind, he was treated like a racist by total strangers slamming him on Instagram.

So, that kind of stuff, I can’t participate in. Anything militant, I can’t participate in, regardless of nationality, race, gender, religion, etc.

But the hugest hole in all of this is that I wouldn’t vote for Joe Biden if you paid me. So where are all these protest leading?

Anyone with an ounce of critical thinking can see that Biden’s sleazy and ineffective — and yet much more controllable than any of the other candidates who were vying for the job — and, if elected, he will likely just be a puppet President for the Democrats to prop up and stand behind so that they can then get down to practicing their own brand of dirty politics, business-as-usual. Because Democrats are just as guilty of that stuff — Hilary and Obama seem to have led the pack during their final year in the White House, based on what seems to have come to light in the Senate Judicial Investigative Committee on Mike Flynn.

So where does that leave someone like me? Voting for an Independent candidate again, which means — in the eyes of many — a wasted vote. No Independent candidate is ever ever ever going to be elected President of the United States.

Anyway, my point is, the protests (which are beginning to become more peaceful in some cities), are only throwing way more voters into Trump’s lap. And leaving no strong leader-type candidate to oppose him.  None. Zippo.

That’s a huge gaping leaky hole in that boat that’s organizing both violent and nonviolent protests all over the country. You know — what is all this massive (and justified) unrest leading to? Joe Biden? And is there going to be a Presidential debate between Biden and Trump? In what universe is Biden ever going to win that? Honestly, we all know he has trouble forming coherent sentences.

And so where does that really leave people like me, who are nonviolent, who don’t support racism, who do support the complex inter-balance of civil liberties across the board…

So, yesterday was not a pretty picture at all, in my opinion.

And then something else happened that appalled me beyond belief.

A white man connected to my play, Tell My Bones — a play about the 100-year-old black  painter Helen LaFrance — was using Helen’s incredible painting, “Canning Peaches,” as his wallpaper during a Zoom meeting the other day, and he was accused of being a “white Master on a slave plantation” and told to remove the painting.

Is this really what we’re coming to in America? Such extreme intolerance between the races? Helen’s painting couldn’t be more magnificent — especially if you’re lucky enough to see the painting in person. Her use of light, of primary colors, and her unbelievable attention to detail and perspective just stagger the eyes when you really look at it. (And she’s a Memory Painter, which means, she paints everything from her memories — she uses no live models or actual landscapes.)

Are we really saying that only black people are permitted to stand in front of, or be depicted in front of, any of Helen’s paintings that feature black people in them? (And in the case of “Canning Peaches,” it’s Helen and her mother. They aren’t slaves or even sharecroppers. They’re in the farm house that Helen grew up in — on the farm her family owned.) So, really?

Well, it happened, gang. Just this week.

Canning Peaches by Helen LaFrance. Permanent Collection of Kentucky Folk Art Center at Morehead State University

You know, I wrote, first, the screenplay (Tell My Bones), and now the play, about Helen LaFrance because I fell in love with her paintings. And I wanted to try to help the world find out about her art.

And when I secured a chance to actually meet her in person (through Gus Van Sant, Sr.), I had a 15-year old beat-up car, with 150,000 miles on it, but I threw an overnight bag into it and just took off. By myself. And it was a 10-hour drive. Plus, back then, I was suffering from acute anxiety disorder and I had a dread fear of crossing bridges. But I had to drive over so many fucking bridges to get to the farthest south-western corner of Kentucky, where Helen lived (in a nursing home) — including the enormous bridge spanning the Ohio River just to get into the State of Kentucky.

But I drove and drove and drove. And drove and drove and drove. And crossed many, many bridges that made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack. And when I finally arrived in Mayfield, and the woman who handles all of Helen’s business affairs, took me in to meet Helen, Helen was not at all interested in talking to any white person. She was cold as stone, suspicious, and not friendly at all. (She was working on a painting and would barely look at me.) (She paints with her left hand now, because she is paralyzed down her right side.)

You know, some white people have been of great help to her career, but a number of white people have exploited her terribly. So she was absolutely unimpressed with me and my white girl enthusiasm.

But I stuck with it and eventually I guess she could see that I was genuinely in love with her art and that I wanted to write about her life. And by the time the trip was over, she had given me the Life Story Rights to write about her life, and the okay for me to have access to her handwritten journals.

So when this man told me on Tuesday that he was accused of being a “white Master on a slave plantation” because he used “Canning Peaches” as his Zoom background and being forced to remove it — Jesus. I didn’t know whether to cry or to scream or to shoot myself. (And this was an educated white person accusing him of this, btw.)

What has happened to critical thinking in this country? I just don’t know. But it really hurt when he told me that. It really upset me. Plus, it was so humiliating for him — he couldn’t be more in love with Helen’s paintings if he tried.

So. Anyway.

Now I will talk about Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds!

According to Instagram, today is the 35th Anniversary of the release of  Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ astoundingly amazing album The First Born is Dead.

The Firstborn Is Dead - Wikipedia

This is the record that totally blew my mind and made me a life-long believer in the utter genius that is Nick Cave. (I’ve written in detail about this before — getting off the subway train in Hoboken, NJ, to visit my girlfriend, finding that tiny record store along the way, which was filled with impossible-to-get (expensive) imports, and finding The First Born is Dead, taking it home, playing it, and becoming eternally stupefied.)

So anyway. Let us celebrate that, okay??!! Not so much my stupefication, but the album, over all. And let’s celebrate that it’s June, and that somehow, someway, everything always kind of works out all right. All things considered.

I’m gonna leave you not with the really, really famous song, “Tupelo,” but another favorite of mine from that album, “Train Long Suffering.” So listen and enjoy.

Thanks for visiting, gang!!! I hope you enjoy your Wednesday, wherever you are in the world today — regardless of your race, nationality, gender, sexual preference, religion, education level, or state of your bank account!! Yay! Seriously, though. Thanks for visiting.  I love you guys. See ya!

“Train-Long Suffering”

Woo-wooooooo Woo!
In the name of pain!
(In the name of pain and suffering)
In the name of pain!
(In the name of pain and suffering)
There comes a train!
(There comes a train)
Yeah!
A long black train
(There comes a train)
Lord, a long black train

Woo-woo! Woo-woo!

Punched from the tunnel
(The tunnel of love is long and lonely)
Engines steaming like a fist
(A fistful of memories)
Into the jolly jaw of morning
(Yeah! O yeah!)
O baby it gets smashed!
(You know that it gets smashed)
O baby it gets smashed!
(You know that it gets smashed)

I kick every goddamn splinter
Into all the looking eyes in the world
Into all the laughing eyes
Of all the girls in the world
Oooooo-woooooh
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
The name of the pain is
A train long-suffering

On rails of pain
(On rails of pain and suffering)
There comes a train
(There comes a train long-suffering)
On rails of pain
(On rails of pain and suffering)
O baby blow its whistle in the rain

Woo-oo Woo! Woo-oo Woo!

Who’s the engine driver?
(The engine drivers over yonder)
His name is Memory
(His name is Memory)
O Memory is his name
(Woooooo-wo!)
Destination: Misery
(Pain and misery)
O pain and misery
(Pain and misery)
O pain and misery
Hey! Hey!
(Pain and misery)
Hey! That’s a sad lookin sack!
Oooh that’s a sad lookin sack!
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
Ooh the name of the pain is
A train long-suffering

There is a train!
(It’s got a name)
Yeah! It’s a train long-suffering
O Lord a train!
(A long black train)
Lord! Of pain and suffering
Each night so black
(O yeah! So black)
And in the darkness of my sack
I’m missing you baby
(I’m missing you)
And I just dunno what to do
(dunno what to do)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
The name of the train is…
The name of the train is
Pain and suffering

© 1985 Nick Cave

Just Something Promising to Look At…

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Well, the news continues to disturb and distress, doesn’t it, gang?

You know, if you aren’t American and have no idea where or what Minneapolis is — it always seemed to me to be a city that had a very open-minded and tolerant reputation. And it’s a northern city, to say the least. (Northern cities usually have a reputation of being more tolerant, in general, and Minneapolis is probably the largest northern city we have.) (Of course, I grew up in Cleveland, which is also a northern city, and all throughout my childhood, there were violent race riots and massive protests and the National Guard being sent in and fires set all over the place that destroyed lives, etc.)

I don’t know. Maybe Minneapolis’ reputation for tolerance was a little erroneous, or even subjective.  Or maybe the tension of the lockdown on top of the tragic, racially-charged killing, just caused the whole city to explode.

Just a great big horrible, awful mess. (And it’s interesting that so much of Instagram wants to blame Trump for what happened. I seem to recall all kinds of similar awfulness happening throughout Obama’s reign. And of course, I just mentioned how, nearly 60 years ago, this kind of awfulness was happening all the time, and Trump was still growing up out in Queens, so… It gets hard to follow the regrettable chain of ideas that springs simply from hate.)

A well-known writer from the rock & roll days that I follow on Instagram is a serious Trump hater.  Like, beyond your ability to comprehend. He blames Trump for absolutely everything imaginable. He even made a statement the other day that Trump dodged COVID 19 the same way that he dodged the Vietnam War. What the heck? This writer is old enough to have served in Vietnam, too, and didn’t, so, like why’s he even bringing that up?

I guess to give the impression that he’s blinded by hate.

And even though I’m not  a Republican — although I am definitely no longer a Democrat, since they became the Party of Supreme Intolerance — I have no issue with how Trump handled COVID 19.

During the peak of the crisis, even while I had the virus, I watched the President’s press conference every single night. The Federal Government seemed to be doing an amazing job of staying on top of the horror, daily — and it was intensely revealing to see how these alleged “journalists” would take the President’s answers to their intensely-politically-motivated questions and then turn the answers into headlines the following morning that were meant strictly to incite emotions and to not deliver actual facts.

I saw it happen again and again in the NY Times and with CNN — two news outlets that I used to swear by, you know? I saw it with my own eyes; heard it with my own ears: Wait, I saw that press conference and that’s not what the President said.

It was scary to see all that hate heaped into the NY-based news outlets by “journalists,” while all those New Yorkers were trapped in the quarantined epicenter and already struggling against so much tragedy caused by that Virus.  (New York City is also the epicenter of Trump-haters — followed closely by Los Angeles– so the headlines seemed to just be exacerbating the city’s fears.)

Anyway, here was this NYC-based rock & roll writer, spewing so much hate in his Instagram feed, while I was actually faring just fine with the Federal Government’s handling of the pandemic.

Because I’m a writer, I have to file a Schedule C every year with my taxes, meaning I am also responsible for paying for my own healthcare, at a premium rate.

Health insurance is ridiculously expensive in America — most Americans simply cannot afford it without assistance of some sort, myself included. And I don’t believe in health insurance — while I do believe that it is unconstitutional to force Americans, by law, to buy health insurance. That was Obama’s legacy, btw, and he was allegedly a Democrat (that I voted for) (but he was actually a Socialist).

Anyway, because Obama forced into law something that was unconstitutional, I joined a Christian healthcare cooperative, that costs me next to nothing every month and keeps me within the law.  But because we were in lockdown, the Federal Government started sending out special weekly payments to people like me who are alone and have to handle all kinds of expenses — i.e., ridiculously expensive health insurance — with next to know opportunities for money to come in until the lockdown is completely over.

Because of the Federal Government, I have survived just fine — but, then, I don’t have to pay for health insurance. The pandemic has been beyond “regrettable,” but Trump didn’t cause it — Trump, a Republican whom I didn’t vote for. (Whereas Obama, a Democrat whom I did vote for, did in fact create this horrible economic situation where Americans are forced by law to have health insurance that most of them cannot possibly afford, with or without the added awfulness of the pandemic.)

So it is, indeed, a great big mess for a lot of people right now. But I do honestly believe that a huge portion of the national media makes things a whole lot worse — purposely feeding people emotionally biased “news,” intentionally manipulating them, until feelings and facts have become hopelessly blurred.

And unfortunately, I have found that I did have to jettison CNN  and the NY Times, in order to find out what was actually going on in the world.

So, well, I guess that’s how I feel about that. (“And other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, did you enjoy the play?”)

Oh — and here’s something I realized the other day — when Abraham Lincoln was heading by train to Washington DC for his inauguration as President, he traveled on the Baltimore & Ohio rail lines, and stopped overnight at the Buxton Inn in Granville, Ohio. (The Buxton Inn is across the street from my beloved Granville Inn –itself a National Landmark, but nowhere near as old as the Buxton Inn.)

But it occurred to me the other day that, even though my house wasn’t here back then, the railroad tracks were, and Crazeysburg was already here, and I’m thinking that Lincoln’s train probably was on those very train tracks that are outside of my house! Just so cool, right?? (Assuming you don’t also hate Lincoln — a Republican– which I don’t.)

Well, all righty!! I know I try not to get political on this blog, but some days I just have to give in.  It really just gets to be too much sometimes — how all the faces change, and the sides rearrange and the issues have different names, but the bad news stays exactly the same.

Today is going to be full of thunderstorms, so that should be suitably dramatic and will see if my breathing becomes once again affected by the intense humidity of thunderstorms. I still have to do a ton of editing on Peitor’s new book. Then meet with him for a few hours over the phone and work on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. And then also do some more work on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse.

I’m guessing the day will be over in a heartbeat. Currently, I’m streaming Behind the Curtain — a movie made in 1929, which is technically a Charlie Chan movie, but I’m halfway through it and so far, Charlie Chan hasn’t put in an actual appearance. It’s more about Scotland Yard getting help from Charlie Chan, via overseas letters, in solving a local murder. It is actually a really good movie. And it’s “pre-Code” so it has its salacious elements right out front. No innuendo needed.

Okay. I’ll close this and get on with my day, gang.  Thanks for visiting.  I hope Friday is okay to you, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with something I happened to see on Bad Seed TeeVee last evening and then was reminded of on Instagram this morning! Rather timely, as it were. I sure hope the tragedy in Minneapolis can find some sort of balance before more people die and the whole city  goes up in flames. Okay. I love you guys. See ya.

“In The Ghetto”

As the snow flies
On a cold and grey Chicago morn
A poor little baby child is born in the ghetto

And his mama cries
Cause there’s one thing that she don’t need
Is another little hungry mouth to feed in the ghetto

Oh people don’t you understand
This child needs a helping hand
He’s gonna grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me
Are we that blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads and look the other way?

And the world turns
And the hungry little boy with the runny nose
Plays in the streets as the cold wind blows in the ghetto
And his hunger burns
So he starts to roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight in the ghetto

Then one night in desperation
The young man breaks away
He buys a gun and steals a car
He tries to run but he don’t get far
And his mama cries
A crowd gathers round an angry young man
Face down in the street with a gun in his hand in the ghetto

Oh people don’t you understand
This child needs a helping hand
He’s gonna grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me
Are we that blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads and look the other way?

And as her young man dies
On a cold and grey Chicago morn
Another little baby child is born in the ghetto

c – 1969 Mac Davis

Summer is Basically Here, Gang!!

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Yesterday was just amazing! Such a beautiful day. I was able to keep the windows open all through the night.

And for me, nothing beats that feeling of waking up just before dawn to wide-open windows. All that fresh air.  All those birds singing. All that peace.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I am in love with the silver maple tree in front of my house. My house is 119-years-old and I’m guessing the tree is about the same age — it is easily twice as tall as my house.

The front part of my house is totally shaded by the tree — including my bedroom. Here is a view of the tree right now, as I’m leaning out from one of my bedroom windows and trying to look up. I’d say this is still only, maybe, 1/4 of the way up the tree.

My silver maple. God only knows how many people have been shaded by this tree in this bedroom over the past century.

My house is what’s called a “salt box” style house, so the front of it is flat — straight up and down. The ceilings inside are high, so the second story, where the two bedrooms are, is up pretty high.  It’s very difficult to see into the windows of the second story from outside — you have to be pretty far down the street to do that. In the summertime, the tree makes it just about impossible to see up into the windows from any angle, yet I still have an amazing view of the outside because the windows are really tall. All of the main windows in the house (10 out of 21 of them) are 6-ft, 4-inches tall.

The combined amount of privacy I get in my room from the enormous tree and the old-fashioned style of the house is kind of magical, gang.

Just one of the many reasons why I love living here. (And also why I hate raking leaves now — there are just a ton of them in the fall. It’s insane. I used to love the meditative process of raking leaves in autumn, but now it’s like — you’re kidding, right??!! Jesus.)

Okay!!!

Another great thing that happened yesterday — I sat down at my desk to do some more editing on The Guitar Hero Goes Home, and suddenly — and I mean truly from out of nowhere — Letter# 8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse started to come out!!

I mean, it was not even on my mind, in the slightest way. And suddenly the words started coming. A whole stream of them.

I was literally in the process of editing Chapter 7 of the Guitar Hero, when a bunch of words came into my head. And they were kind of provocative, so I stopped what I was doing and wrote them down in my notebook. But suddenly a bunch more words came out, and a title: “The Choice to Kill.”

And I was, like — whoa; this is Letter #8 for Girl in the Night.

In total, about 8 paragraphs came out all at once. So I stopped editing Guitar Hero and gave my attention to Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. I hope to have it finished today but it’s kind of an intense section (as perhaps the title of it implies) so I’m not sure how long it will really take me.

I hadn’t even thought about Girl in the Night since February (when I wrote Letters #6 & 7) because I was so busy revising the play (Tell My Bones) at that point. And then, of course, I got completely wiped out by the coronavirus for nearly 2 months.

So this is exciting, gang.

(That whole time I was sick, I really struggled with thoughts that I was never going to write again. And so, now, to have it just spring up again — feels like old times!!)

Okay. Well, today is Bob Dylan’s 79th birthday. And in honor of that event, I went over to YouTube to find a song to post here for the occasion. However, I can never log onto YouTube without first checking to see what’s playing on Bad See TeeVee. 

This morning, I logged on just in time to hear Warren Ellis give an impromptu commercial for the channel over the phone, while, visually, there were these great little animated line drawings of Warren and Nick Cave “dancing” provocatively in their Y-fronts.

(That’s why I can’t ever get onto YouTube without checking Bad Seed TeeVee first, because you just never know what the heck you’ll be looking at!)

And then it went into the video for “Red Right Hand”, which is just so great — the video as well as the song (from the incredible Let Love In album, 1994). So I’m going to leave you with that song today, in addition to a Bob Dylan song, in honor of his 79th birthday.

I have chosen a song of Dylan’s that I absolutely LOVE — it won the Oscar in 2001 for Best Original Song — from the movie Wonder Boys, which I also totally love — to pieces!! (I think most writers loved that movie; it really captured just how fucking insane it is to be a writer, and also to struggle with the politics of academia, if you ended up choosing that route.) (I didn’t. I was always just a “hit the ground running” kind of writer, hoping I wouldn’t starve to death…) (I didn’t.)

All righty!! So, as the sun shines in on me, I’m going to close this now and get going. Have a great Sunday, wherever you are in the world — and continue to enjoy the holiday weekend if you live Stateside! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“Things Have Changed”
(from “Wonder Boys” soundtrack)

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train

Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose

[Chorus:]
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

This place ain’t doing me any good
I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove

Lot of water under the bridge, lot of other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through

[Chorus]

I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the Bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand

Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet
Putting her in a wheelbarrow and wheeling her down the street

[Chorus]

I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
You can hurt someone and not even know it
The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity
Gonna get low down, gonna fly high
All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie
I’m in love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me

Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake

[Chorus]

c – 2000 Bob Dylan

Finally!! Real Life!!

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Yes, that’s me!! In my real life!!

Well, I mean, minus all those people. Just the yard work. That’s my real life.

Yes, I spent 4 hours at it yesterday. And I was already at it this morning for two more hours. But at least the backyard is now  done.

It filled ten 30-gallon yard waste bags. And, yes, I’m exhausted. And, yes, I can no longer breathe again, and, yes, I’m thinking I will have the residuals of COVID 19 for the rest of my fucking life. But oh well. I can’t just wait around and let the yard just get utterly insane.

And my new lawn care guy came yesterday!! Yay. The old one is no longer even replying to my texts. So I guess that’s that. But I did manage to find a new guy who lives only a few blocks away, and all he does for a living is grounds maintenance, so he’s not gonna disappear on me. And the lawn looks great!!

And all the neighbors were out last evening, celebrating my beautiful lawn!! They were having cookouts, and smoking reefer, and riding their bikes, and walking their many dogs, and playing on their bouncy trampoliney-type things!! And — well, maybe they were just celebrating the awesome weather last evening, plus it was  a Saturday night. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with my grass having finally been cut. But still.  My at last normal-looking lawn made me feel incredibly happy last evening, and it was just a beautiful night.

I was upstairs collapsed on my bed during all of it, barely able to breathe, but all the windows were open, and there was a warm breeze, and the sounds of the neighborhood and the birds singing were wafting up through the windows. And I was streaming a really great old movie from 1937 — Think Fast, Mr. Moto, starring the inimitable Peter Lorre. So I really was very happy.

And all the weeds out back by the barn and by the old dead tree are gone now. And all that’s left to do around here is get rid of a small amount of dead leaves around the front porch, but I won’t have anymore yard waste bags until Tuesday, so I’m done for now.

And the porch furniture is all washed down and ready for summer. All that’s left to do is buy the flowers and put them in the flower boxes and get them out on the porches and then summer can begin.

Interestingly enough, though, my barn door is now lying down flat on the ground. It finally completely fell off the (extremely old) rollers. I think, in all honestly, the rollers were from the 1930s or so — really old. Rusted. And after Kevin and I struggled with it on Wednesday, the rollers finally gave way completely. So the incredibly HEAVY barn door, was sort of propped up against the opening when Kevin left here on Wednesday.

Here’s what it used to look like when the rollers still worked. Yesterday morning, I discovered the door had fallen backwards and is now lying flat on the ground. Thank god it’s still on my property and not hanging out in the alley, because I cannot budge it. It weighs a ton!

So I have yet another project that needs a chainsaw and no one to do the job, even if/when I buy the chainsaw. So, rather than sell the house and move away, I’m just going to ignore the whole thing for the time being and hope that my neighbors will just continue to bear with me, as little by little and inch by inch, I try to get this place back in shape.

Okay! A quick bird update!! I’ve got one starling still sitting on her nest in the eaves outside my backdoor, but I have three other nests in various places around my roof where the eggs have hatched and now lots of busy mommies are flying back & forth, trying to keep everybody fed. And the nests that have baby starlings in them have those amazingly eerie sounds coming from them — those sounds that hungry baby starlings make, which sound like they come from another planet or something.  They definitely do not “cheep” like other baby birds. But it makes me so happy to have so much life around here.

All righty. Well, the COVID 19 business — I did read how Vitamin D was helping people recover more quickly, so I bought a high dosage Vitamin D supplement the other day and it does seem to be helping. (Doing tons of labor-intensive yard work did not seem to help, however. So, luckily, that’s over for now.) But I cannot tell you how sick and tired I am of all this. Except for the continued breathing issues, I feel totally fine. But the breathing issues are unbelievably annoying. So I’m hopeful that the Vitamin D supplements will finally make it just go away for real. It’s been 2 months now that I’ve been dealing with this damn virus.

And speaking of annoying things — I did finally unfollow the Keanu hashtag on Instagram and my feed hasn’t changed all that much. The only difference is that I no longer get 700 million photos of Keanu all day long. (Even though some of those photos were really nice.) But perhaps, over time, other more interesting things will now have room to make their ways into my feed. We shall see!

And as for non-annoying things! This little village of Crazeysburg is a really nice place to live. It honestly is. And even though the village is tiny, and only about 1300 people live here, and even though we seem to be lost in some long ago time warp (or perhaps because of that), when a house goes up for sale or up for rent now, in a heartbeat, the house is once again occupied.  Even during this pandemic, where life, in general, is supposed to stop.  A house on my street went up for rent on Thursday and I noticed last evening, that someone was already moving in. It’s kind of incredible, really. Especially since nobody I know has ever even heard of this place…

Other than that — well, I guess that’s it. If I can regain some energy here, I will hopefully get some more editing done on The Guitar Hero Goes Home. If I can’t regain my energy, I guess I’ll just hang out in bed for awhile and stream some more Mr. Moto movies on YouTube. I love those movies. Peter Lorre was such an incredibly watchable actor. And when those run out, I’ll switch over to Bad Seed TeeVee !! (There does seem to be a lot of new content in that stream, btw.)

It is such an amazingly beautiful day here today that whatever I end up doing or not doing, I know I’m going to be really happy.

Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope your Sunday is just as lovely for you, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from today. Another very old song, and another very favorite song of mine from my wee bonny teenage-girlhood, growing up in Ohio (also known as Bruce Springsteen country).

This song still breaks my heart — it is just so American. But it is nearly 50 years old already. I’m guessing parts of America (certainly Ohio is) are still like this, what this song depicts — especially in the summertime. I listened to it this morning and could not believe how old it already was. Where the fuck did the time go??!!

All righty. Well, I leave you with “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)”, by Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, from their now legendary album, The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle (1973). Enjoy, gang, and have a wonder-filled day!! I love you guys. See ya.

“4th Of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)”

Sandy the fireworks are hailin’
Over Little Eden tonight
Forcin’ a light into all those stony faces
Left stranded on this warm July

Down in the town the circuit’s
Full of switchblade lovers
So fast so shiny so sharp
As the wizards play
Down on Pinball Way
On the boardwalk way past dark

And the boys from the casino dance with their shirts open
Like Latin lovers on the shore
Chasin’ all them silly New York virgins by the score

And Sandy the Aurora is risin’ behind us
Its pier lights our carnival life forever
Oh, love me tonight for I may never
See you again
Hey Sandy girl
Na na baby

Now the greasers
Ah they tramp the streets or get busted
For sleeping on the beach all night
Them boys in their high heels
Ah Sandy their skins are so white

And me I just got tired of hangin’ in them dusty arcades
Bangin’ them pleasure machines
Chasin’ the factory girls underneath the boardwalk
Where they all promise to unsnap their jeans

You know that tilt-a-whirl down on the south beach drag
I got on it last night and my shirt got caught
And they kept me spinnin’
Didn’t think I’d ever get off

Oh Sandy the Aurora is risin’ behind us
Its pier lights our carnival life on the water
Runnin’ underneath the boardwalk oh with the boss’s daughter
I remember Sandy girl
Na na na na na baby

Sandy that waitress I was seeing lost her desire for me
I spoke with her last night
She said she won’t set herself on fire for me anymore

She worked that joint under the boardwalk
She was always the girl you saw bopping down the beach with the radio
The kids say last night she was dressed like a star
In one of them cheap little seaside bars
And I saw her parked with lover boy out on the Kokomo

Did you hear the cops finally busted Madame Marie
For tellin’ fortunes better than they do
For me this boardwalk life’s through
Babe you oughta quit this scene too

Sandy the Aurora’s rising behind us
Its pier lights our carnival life forever
Oh love me tonight and I promise I’ll love you forever

Oh I mean it Sandy girl! Na nah na nah na na baby
Yeah, I promise Sandy girl, sha la la la la baby

© 1973 Bruce Springsteen

Who Knew I’d Turn to Ronnie Wood for Serenity??!!

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If you don’t know who Ronnie Wood is, he’s a guitar player who’s been a member of the Rolling Stones since the mid-1970s, and was a member of the British group, The Small Faces, & then just The Faces, with Rod Stewart, before that.  He ‘s had a life-long reputation for being intensely “fun loving” (drugs, alcohol, high energy, funny). But several years back, he became clean & sober.  And now, on Instagram, during this pandemic, he frequently posts little videos for other members of AA or NA about serenity and taking it one day at a time.

I’m not in any type of substance-abuse healing program, but I have always been a huge fan of Ron Wood’s so I enjoy watching his little videos. And I think it’s just so sweet (I honestly do) — you know, all these years later, this frenetic rock & roll guitar player is helping us find serenity…

Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood, 1980 – LA MAISON REBELLE
Keith Richards & Ronnie Wood, pre-serenity…

All righty!!

Well, guess who has inadvertently signed up for another year of the Mondly app?? Yes, that (really fun) app that was teaching me Italian for about 9 months, until I gave up on ever learning Italian in this life time!! (And as it turned out, the writer’s retreat, that I was supposed to be hosting in Italy this Spring…. well.)

So, yes!! The Mondly app auto-renewed itself because I wasn’t paying attention, even though I was actually looking at the app icon on my phone the other day, and really missing it. And sort of wishing that I hadn’t let the app expire…

Good news!! I didn’t….

Yeah, well. Actually, I thought that was kind of cool when I saw it on my bank statement, even though I wasn’t expecting it. But I don’t think I’m going to try to keep studying Italian, because I just don’t seem to have a head for it. I suppose I could go back to studying French and really try to learn conversational French, instead of that sort of  “formal business letter-writing French” that I actually know.

But it sort of feels like a wide-open playing field right now. An entire year in front of me to study a foreign language! I’ve studied French for most of my life, do I still want to keep studying it? Through the course of my life, with varying results, I’ve studied German, Portuguese, Spanish, Mandarin Chinese, Biblical Hebrew, and, of course, Italian. And French is the language that I keep coming back to.  But I just don’t know.

Anyway, it’s kind of exciting to think about.

Well, yesterday was interesting. I did spend several hours with my friend Kevin, which was nice — and it was such a beautiful day here. But he is very depressed about all this COVID 19 stuff and how it’s changing everything and how pretty much every area of our lives now is up in the air.

I’m not sure why it doesn’t depress me, but it just doesn’t. (I guess Ronnie Wood has me feeling too serene…) Seriously, though. I just take everything one day at a time. We have no clue what’s ahead — it could wind up being just spectacular, once everything settles where it will and life moves forward for those of us who are still here.

So I tried to encourage him and make him feel better. After all, he’s taking off for Montana in a few days, and it’s so beautiful out there and he lives out there every year until October.

Then I did my grocery shopping, came back to Crazeysburg, called my dad and he announced that he’s not moving to Florida. He changed his mind. So that was very nice to hear — and totally unexpected.

Peitor also called to talk for 3 minutes about the sets he needs to build for our film shoot in the cinematographer’s studio in Alabama, and then he explained the idea he came up with to make it more affordable when we have to shoot on location in — Sweden (he’ll shoot in Paris if he has to, but he’d rather keep it authentic and shoot in Sweden).

(Yes, that’s right — on location in Sweden, or in Paris, if we absolutely have to, for an 8 minute film.)

And I’m, like, “Well, this all sounds really good, but we still need to get the budget together and see who’s paying for all this.” (In addition to everything imaginable involving the shoot, actors also have to be flown to and accommodated in Alabama and Sweden…)

It’s probably hard for you to imagine that I’m actually the level-headed one in the production company. Still, I do share his vision for perfection. I really do. And I do research everything, constantly. Just constantly. And I’ve taken 6 webinars already about the best way to approach this financially, from all angles.

So, we’ll be talking more at length about all of that today.

On another topic entirely….

I’ve had more time to listen to the new Bob Dylan song, “False Prophet.” I do like it — I like it better than “I Contain Multitudes,” but still, nothing comes close to “Murder Most Foul.”

Which unfortunately reminds me that a colleague in NYC and I were talking about “Murder Most Foul” back when it first came out, and he had the audacity to point out to me that Dylan was singing about Nat King Cole’s famous jazz song, “Nature Boy,” and not  Nick Cave’s song of the same name. And I was extremely crestfallen about that. Of course, I could see he was right about it, still. I guess love is not only blind, but deaf, as well. And in my mind, forever, it will still be Nick Cave’s song mentioned in “Murder Most Foul”…

Overall, though, that new Dylan album should be very interesting. (And his tours, of course, in support of the new album have now all been cancelled.) (Which makes me wonder, where does Bob Dylan actually live? He’s always, always, always on the road, in that unending tour he’s been doing for the last 20 years… I know he got another divorce at some point, so where does he live?? I’d assumed he just lived in some sort of monster bus. Hmm.)

Well, all righty. I guess that’s it for today. I’ve got work to do here. I hope you guys have a nice Thursday in front of you (or on it’s way out, depending on where in the world you live!). Thanks for visiting.  I leave you with my favorite Faces song, from 1973, Ronnie Wood was one of the writers on this great song — “Ooh La La,” from the album of the same name. (A song that never goes out of date, as it turns out, because those gosh darn women never change!) Enjoy and have a terrific day. I love you guys. See ya!!

“Ooh La La”

Poor old Granddad
I laughed at all his words
I thought he was a bitter man
He spoke of women’s ways

“They’ll trap you, then they use you
Before you even know
For love is blind and you’re far too kind
Don’t ever let it show”

I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.

The Can Can’s such a pretty show
They’ll steal your heart away
But backstage, back on earth again
The dressing rooms are grey

They come on strong and it ain’t too long
Before they make you feel a man
But love is blind and you soon will find
You’re just a boy again

When you want her lips, you get a cheek
Makes you wonder where you are
If you want some more then she’s fast asleep
And leaves you twinkling with the stars.

“Poor young grandson, there’s nothing I can say
You’ll have to learn, just like me
And that’s the hardest way
Ooh la la”

I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger

© 1973 Ronnie Lane, Ronnie Wood

Cheers, Baby!!

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And a very happy little Mother’s Day to my birth mom, Cherie.

I’m guessing she will celebrate today with a 6-pack of beer and a pack of Pall Malls and some old style Country & Western music, as she contemplates how she survived giving birth to four babies by the time she was 19 years old…

Okay!!

Mother’s Day is not my favorite day of the year, that’s for sure. It’s just sort of a reminder of how difficult it was to try to make my adoptive mother happy when I was growing up — especially on Mother’s Day.

When I was a wee bonny lass, I used to get a weekly allowance from my dad. This was back in the 1960s, when money went a lot farther. Still, for most of my childhood, I only got 25 cents a week (1 quarter). When you consider that a candy bar only cost 5 cents back then, a quarter wasn’t the worst thing to have when you were 7 years old.

Of course, the only thing I ever wanted back then was record albums. And those were just impossible to afford. Even to buy a 45 RPM was about 3 weeks’ worth of allowance money.  But every year on my birthday, an aunt of mine would mail me a birthday card with a $5 bill inside, and that was absolute heaven to me! It meant I could go straight to Woolworth’s and buy a rock & roll record album, which, back then cost about $3.99.

We had lots of record albums in the house because my parents loved music, but they were all jazz, classical, or Broadway musical albums. And a Top 40 radio station was always playing in our kitchen, or in the car, and I loved Top 40. But I really, really loved The Beatles and The Monkees (a TV show). So, once a year, I had to choose: I could buy one of their albums. For instance:

The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour (Gatefold, Vinyl) | Discogs

OR

Headquarters (The Monkees album) - Wikipedia

The rest of the year, I had to rely on girlfriends who had older sisters who had way more records than we did.

Then, when I started babysitting when I was 11, I finally hit paydirt and could afford to start buying a lot more albums. My taste in records at age 11:

Elvis As Recorded At Madison Square Garden | Discogs

Full Albums: The Rolling Stones' 'Exile on Main Street' - Cover Me

Greatest Hits (The Jackson 5 album) - Wikipedia

500 Greatest Albums of All Time | Imagine john lennon, Imagine ...

At Folsom Prison - Wikipedia

Anyway. That was a digression.  One of the worst Mother’s Days in my memory was when I was about 7 or 8 years old, and I was able to buy a beautiful blooming red geranium for my (adoptive) mother for Mother’s Day from a florist around the corner from our house in Cleveland. I could get there on my bike.  The geranium was inexpensive enough that I could afford it with money from my own piggy bank. And I was so thrilled. Just thrilled — it was the first Mother’s Day that I didn’t have to borrow money from my dad. And when I gave the geranium to my mother, she looked at it with actual disgust and said, “I hate geraniums.” Then she immediately stuck it on the steps out in the dark garage and then, later, threw it into the trash.

Obviously, I have never forgotten that.

And, btw, she did not hate geraniums — she had plenty of geraniums over the years. She just wanted to be mean to me.  (It worked.) (Then multiply that times every day of my life with her…)

Anyway. So, I’m not a big fan of Mother’s Day.

Still! I did send my birth mom a pretty card replete with messy glitter, full of gushy sentiments of love.

All righty.

So. Yesterday, I had the best chat so far with the director of Tell My Bones, and the arrangements for the Zoom staged reading just keep getting more and more exciting for me, gang. At this point, it’s going to be June before it will be taped/performed. But that’s really just around the corner, and a ton of stuff has to be organized by then.

I was reluctant, at first, to go the Zoom route but now I’m seeing that there are a lot of options to Zoom that can give it a higher quality than what I’m used to seeing. So I am really getting excited.

Okay. Well. Today I’ll be chatting with Valerie for a while in the early afternoon, but other than that, my only plans are to sit here at my desk and focus on two things: Some editing on The Guitar Hero Goes Home (aka Blessed By Light), and do some new writing on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.  (Plus drink a lot coffee. I hate that it’s gotten so cold again and all the windows need to be closed. That fresh air last week was really helping my brain work again. But, in a pinch, I’ll resort to coffee. Or maybe tea.)

Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world. If you are separated from loved ones today because of the pandemic, I hope that this time next year arrives in a heartbeat and that all will be well in your worlds once more.

Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my rather unexpected breakfast-listening music from this morning. It’ s kind of a sad song, but it’s still really beautiful to listen to, and I’m not sad today; I just wanted something pretty to listen to. So I leave you with “Foi Na Cruz” from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds The Good Son album (1990). Enjoy! And have a wonderful day. I love you guys. See ya!

“Foi Na Cruz”

Foi na cruz, foi na cruz
Que um dia
Meus pecados castigados em Jesus
Foi na cruz
Que um dia
Foi na cruz

Love comes a-knocking
Comes a-knocking upon our door
But you, you and me, love
We don’t live there any more

Foi na cruz, foi na cruz
Que um dia
Meus pecados castigados em Jesus
Foi na cruz
Que um dia
Foi na cruz

A little sleep, a little slumber
A little folding of the hands to sleep
A little love, a little hate, babe
A little trickery and deceit

Foi na cruz, foi na cruz
Que um dia
Meus pecados castigados em Jesus
Foi na cruz
Que um dia
Foi na cruz

Dream on ‘till you can dream no more
For all our grand plans, babe
Will be dreams forever more

Foi na cruz, foi na cruz
Que um dia
Meus pecados castigados em Jesus
Foi na cruz
Que um dia
Foi na cruz

© 1990 – Nick Cave/Traditional