Okay, gang, I just wanted to touch base here again this evening to let you know two things.
One is that those fan-made videos on Bad Seed TeeVee are unbelievably great, gang. They’re still streaming for several more hours, so get over there and watch some of them. You will be amazed by how talented these people are. And if you are a hardcore Nick Cave fan and are familiar with all of his records and videos, the creativity of some of these fan-videos will astound you.
I have been trying to log on & off of YouTube all day but I really want to get the editing done on The Guitar Hero GoesHome (100 more pages to go), so I can’t just hang out and endlessly watch the videos, unfortunately.
I can’t even pick an absolute favorite because I have just loved so many of them. But off the top of my head, I have to say I loved the puppet-reenactment of “The Weeping Song”, and the guy in the bathtub singing “No Pussy Blues”, the two women from the Netherlands singing “Henry Lee,” and then an animated version of “Get Ready for Love.”
Plus a whole bunch more. Anyway — go check it out! They’re so entertaining.
The other thing I wanted to say is that this week’s issue of PleaseKillMe.com (an online zine mainly about the history and culture of Punk music, but also art, poetry, fashion and music, in general, from the 1960s onward). Today’s issue has a never-before released 1983 interview with one of my heroes, the late Jim Carroll. He is backstage in Boston at the Paradise Theater, before a gig. (Jim Carroll was not only a poet and writer, but for many years, he also had a rock band that bordered on Punk). This was likely his biggest radio hit. Off of his album Catholic Boy, the song “People Who Died”:
It’s a great interview, although sometimes the sound is difficult because bands start playing in some other area of the club. But, overall, it was great. He talks mainly about his now- legendary book, his actual teenage diaries about growing up in NYC with a heroin habit while being a high school basketball star at the same time — The Basketball Diaries.
In the video interview, he talks a lot about heroin vs. a methadone habit and has some interesting insights to what that was like in NYC back in the late 60s, early 70s. Then he also talks a bit about how he got started in the music business (thanks to Patti Smith and also the Rolling Stones — Keith Richards, in particular).
The interview took place just months before he became my teacher (!!) — I studied songwriting in a class he taught on NYC’s Upper West Side at the West Side Y. (I was already a big fan of his, so to have him as my teacher twice a week in just a regular classroom environment, not some big lecture hall or anything — it blew me the fuck away!)
If you’d like to read the article at PleaseKillMe.com, which goes along with the video, it is here.
Below, is just the video interview by itself.
And now I gotta scoot!!! Have a wonderful evening, gang, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys!! See ya.
I’m not really going to post a true post today, gang — I am trying to finish editing The Guitar Hero Goes Home because I want to get down to work again on the new novel (Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town).
I just wanted to remind everybody that today, on Bad Seed TeeVee, they are beginning to stream the original videos that fans submitted! So don’t forget to check it out!!!
Also, Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files thing today about Nina Simone singing “My Sweet Lord” in her effort to protest the Vietnam War back in 1972, which was very powerful. You can check it out at that link!
Oh, and my treadmill arrived this morning at 7am! However, they neglected to mention ahead of time that I can’t use it without lubricating the belt first. And I don’t even want to tell you how many various brands of lube live in this house, none of which can be used on the belt of a treadmill!!!!!!
So, next fucking week, the proper lube will arrive. Meanwhile, the treadmill is in my kitchen…
Have a really nice Friday, gang, wherever you are in the world! Sorry for being so brief today, but thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!!
Well, a little happy cat came to visit me this morning!!
Loyal readers of this lofty blog perhaps recall that the first summer I spent here in my house, 2 years ago, a wonderful male ginger cat — that I named Henry — used to come visit early in the morning, when I was in the kitchen feeding my cats. He would get up onto the back of the porch chair, so that he could stand right in the kitchen window and watch us through the screen and meow and startle my many cats. I adored him. And I always put out some breakfast for him when he arrived. And he was tame — he let me pet him and pick him up, and he was just so sweet.
He passed away that winter.
But this morning, a young, tame female cat — sort of a tabby/calico — did the exact same thing that Henry used to do!! Suddenly, she was right there in the kitchen window, watching us.
I was so thrilled to see her! I took her out a small bowl of cat food and she, as Henry was, is totally tame. She clearly belongs to someone around here. But she let me cuddle with her and snuggle and I got to pet her. She was so sweet! Just like Henry. So now I’ve named her Henrietta. I hope she comes back. She hung out on the porch for quite a while.
Since my cats are all feral, they don’t let me hold them or pet them or cuddle with them. I have not had a wee bonny cat in my arms since Daddycakes died, over a year ago. It felt so wonderful to hold a cat in my arms again.
I had another visitor, too!! Of the human variety!!
Late yesterday afternoon, when I was at my kitchen table, taking a break from editing, an old friend that I hadn’t seen since before the quarantine began on March 14th, was suddenly standing on my porch at my screen door!
An actual visitor!! A human male!! Someone who actually knows me pretty well. Someone who actually dated me for awhile. Someone who actually grew up — coincidentally — in Cleveland!
It was so nice to see him. We hung out at the kitchen table for a little bit and talked. He drank some beer, then we went out and sat on my kitchen porch so that he could smoke a cigarette.
It was just so nice to have someone to talk to. A real person. A beer-drinking, cigarette-smoking, profanity-using farmer who drives a pick-up truck, even though he did indeed grow up in Cleveland, not too far from where I grew up. And now lives in Muskingum County, not too far from me. There are no farmers whatsoever in Cleveland. It’s urban — a city. And yet he wound up way out here — a farmer. And here I am — not a farmer, just a totally fucking weird woman who went from being a total city girl to living in a world surrounded by hills and foothills and farms:
Cleveland OhioMuskingum County, Ohio
Very odd and coincidental, right? So he and I get along. Although he stopped dating me because I didn’t smoke or drink (my excessive use of the F-word just wasn’t enough). He thought I was too nice, actually. The last time we “dated,” he came in from the porch one afternoon, went to the fridge to get himself a beer (I always kept beer on hand in the fridge for him) and he mumbled, God, your refrigerator’s clean… Then he looked around the kitchen and said, “Your house is always so fucking clean, Marilyn, that it makes me want to puke!”
(I sensed the end of the affair barrelling at me that afternoon.)
Then he went on a big expensive trip to “go fishing” with one of his friends. I actually found out later that he had gone with a female friend who smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish (although they did indeed go fishing, too). And rumor had it that they’d had a blast. A really great time. And he spent “a fortune” on her…And even though we weren’t dating anymore by the time I found out that he had lied, it still hurt so bad that he thought I was “too nice.” (Even though I didn’t mind at all that he liked to drink & smoke.)
Anyway. I got over it. He is still a great guy, we just don’t date. (And he doesn’t date that other woman anymore, either, because she “drinks too much” and it cost him a fortune — no lie, gang! Honestly…. )
And another sort of “visitor” happened yesterday — my ex-husband in Seattle called me, early yesterday morning, to wish me a happy (upcoming) birthday. (My birthday is in 13 days.)
We chatted for quite awhile. And since I am going to be 60, and he is already 64, he told me to be sure to start moving slower now because I wouldn’t want to break a hip or anything.
He was serious.
Jesus! (My visitor yesterday afternoon is 67 and, in fact, had recently fractured his hip.) I’m, like — okay, this is not funny, people. I am not elderly. Just stop advising me to move slow.
In fact, my new treadmill arrives tomorrow. I have no intentions of moving slow…
Okay, more good news!!
I did indeed begin editing The Guitar Hero Goes Home yesterday, beginning yet again from page 1.
I only made a couple truly minor tweaks to what had already been edited about 6 times… and now I’m up to the middle of Chapter 7, where I had left off a few weeks back. And I absolutely love the book. I am finally feeling completely happy with the edits. It has taken quite a while.
I’m hoping that by the time I finish editing the whole manuscript, Valerie will feel up to working on book cover designs again and I can finally publish this novel.
Okay. Well, more scorching heat is on the way today! I’ve noticed that during the really hot days, I have yet another visitor!! The toad likes to sleep in the flower box on the front porch. He snuggles down in the soil and stays cool in the shade of the petunias. And I try not to water him too much!! Now that I know he’s likely to be there on really hot days, I try to remember to look for him before I just start watering everything.
When I see the toad there, hiding from the heat, it always reminds me of this really great song by the B52’s, “Dry County,” from their really, really GREAT album from 1989 — Cosmic Thing. If you do not know this album, you must listen to it!! It is so much fun. (I knew Fred Schneider only casually when I lived in NYC. But he was such a cool guy.)
Well, on that note, I’m going to get back to editing the novel, and I leave you with “Dry County.” (If you don’t know what a “dry county” is, it means that the county is not allowed to sell alcohol of any kind. You find dry counties a lot in the South. So everyone goes over to the next county to get drunk.)
All righty!! Have a wonderful Thursday, wherever you are in the world, gang!! Thanks for visiting! I love you guys. See ya.
“Dry County”
It’s one of those lazy days
I’ve got nothing to do
Let the wind blow round my head
Let a cloud be my bed
When the blues whomp you up on the side of the head
Throw ’em to the floor and kick ’em out the door
When the blues kick you in the head
And you roll out of bed in the morning
Just sit on the porch and swing
Sit on the porch and swing
The heat of the day’s got me in a haze
The heat of the day’s got me in a haze
Those lazy days of summer are here
When the blues whomp you up on the side of the head
Throw ’em to the floor and kick ’em out the door
When the blues kick you in the head
And you roll out of bed in the morning
Just sit on the porch and swing
Sit on the porch and swing
Just let the breezes flow,
Through your mind,
I feel so fine
When the blues whomp you up on the side of the head
Throw ’em to the floor and kick ’em out the door
When the blues kick you in the head
And you roll out of bed in the morning
Just sit on the porch and swing
Sit on the porch and swing
(It’s so hot. It’s so hot. It’s so HOT)
Here come the girls
Here come the girls up the road
Here come the girls, here come the girls
Here come the girls!
What they want to do they can’t do
Cause it’s a… Dry County
Kicking stones and laughing low
Nowhere to go. It’s a dry, dry, such a dry, dry,
Dust devils blowing in your hair but what do you care
When there’s nowhere to go
It’s a dry, dry, county
Yes — if you must know — I bought more dishes yesterday. A set of four stoneware appetizer plates that look like this:
I know. Don’t look at me like that. I am fully aware that I never, ever, ever entertain anymore, and that I already have something like 25 appetizer plates, most of them porcelain, Limoges. Some that look exactly like this:
And others that have charming depictions of Provence on them. Still others that have just various French farm logos and windmills and cows and cocksroosters and stuff. And, yes, I have some covered in flowers, but none that look exactly like the ones covered in flowers that I bought yesterday! So you can readily see why I needed them.
I’ve already stated plainly — right here on this blog — that it is an addiction, this problem I have with buying dishes. And an addiction is sort of like a disease. So, you know, some compassion would probably be cool right now…
But, honestly, they were reduced for clearance. And I loved them. And I had to have them. And so I bought them. And, no, I can’t imagine a moment in time when I will ever use them at this point, because I live in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of cats, and perhaps, soon, a bunch of AI sex robots that look like Henry (probably around 30 of them) (and, actually, in that case, I will have almost enough appetizer plates!):
See some previous post about the insane budget proposal for shooting “Lita’s Got To Go!” and how, for the same amount of money, I could purchase 30 top-of-the-line Henry’s from Realbotix.
Anyway.
Yesterday, I also bought — yes — a treadmill.
(This is where the title of today’s post likely comes from!!)
I am just so tired of it. While I had the virus, I gained 10 pounds. Once the virus was gone, and I could get out of bed for more then 2 minutes a day, I lost 8 of those 10 pounds immediately. However, even though I always eat exactly the very same organic vegetarian non-GMO boring things every single darn day — I put all the weight back on!!
So I started to do the aerobics, which helps, but its nowhere near as effective as seriously moving around every day, which I haven’t really done since the quarantine started here in mid-March. And even though the glucosamine supplements seem to have fixed the problem with my hip joint, I’m still really squeamish about walking too far from home and then maybe having the hip problem start again and have to walk all the way back in all that awful pain.
I love treadmills. And, in fact, in the days when I was always at the country club (I know!! I’m absolutely white!! But, hey, that’s where I met Gus Van Sant Sr and my whole life changed!!). Anyway, I was always on the treadmill at the club. I just love those things. So yesterday, I decided to get one of those really inexpensive ones, that, unlike Henry, has no bells or whistles, and folds up for storage. This way, if I do have any pain in my hip joint, I can just get off the treadmill, sit down at the kitchen table and stream something really delightful on the iPad!!
Which is sort of a way of saying that I am still loving that Belgian crime procedural, Professor T. Jesus, what a fun show. I am almost done with the available episodes. There was still one more season that was made (Season 3), which I’m guessing PBS will add to the stream next summer. (Currently you can stream Seasons 1 &2)
And that reminds me that the new season of Endeavor begins in August!! I had read it wouldn’t air until June of 2021, but this was erroneous information. It will actually air next month and I can’t wait. It is truly one of my very favorite shows.
But, regarding the treadmill — we’ll see how it goes. I was a little leery of buying any more workout equipment because it’s always so hard to get rid of it when you don’t want it anymore. (In the past, I’ve had a rowing machine and a stationary bike.) But I am so fed up with this COVID 19-related metabolism thing. It clearly looks as if it will be 2021 before I will really be able to go anywhere and do anything. And I had to do something. I absolutely cannot stand to put on weight. It makes me insane.
(Which reminds me, the director of Tell My Bones and I are considering putting together some sort of staged reading of the play, but in very short, edited segments and using local professional talent — of which there is actually quite a lot out here; there’s a lot of professional theater in the next town over, where the director has his summer mansion-on-the-hill, and certainly a ton in Columbus. However, we have to wait for the lockdown to be truly over in order to even think about that.)
Then the other thing I did yesterday, was: I deleted TikTok from my phone. I had been hearing that India banned TikTok and, honestly, I had no idea why and I kept meaning to investigate that, but for some reason I thought it was related to the many many many scantily clad young men doing all those amazingly provocative dances.
It turns out, it was more sinister than that. When I saw that Australia was getting ready to ban TikTok, as well, I saw a new piece on the BBC about it and was kind of stunned. China is just really off the charts. (China freely monitors you and tracks your data through the TikTok app.) So, just to make it a non-issue, I deleted the app.
It was a fun app, but honestly, I spend way more than enough time scrolling through Instagram!!! It’s kind of gotten ridiculous during this pandemic — the amount of time I spend on Instagram.
What’s ironic, though, is that scrolling through all those little TikTok videos really helped me pass the time while I recovered from the fucking virus — also a gift from China…. (And I am still so enraged about them forcing those Uyhgur women to have their heads shaved and then trying to sell us their hair!! If anyone ever shaved the hair off of my head, even if I weren’t forced into an internment camp while they were doing it, I would feel so demoralized. )
Oh, crap. Anyway.
Well, I did do some editing on The Guitar Hero Goes Home yesterday, but as I leaped back in to editing Chapter 7, it became apparent that too many weeks had gone by since I had begun the final edit on the novel and that it’s probably a good idea just to go back to page 1 and do a final final edit. I had sort of lost the momentum of the voice – if that makes sense. And since the entire novel is just one man talking, staying on track with that voice is key. So I’m going back to page 1 today.
Sample of the cover art but this is not finished
And while sorting through the mound of papers on the floor next to my desk (underneath the always-growing mound of photos of Nick Cave that I print off of the computer and put on the floor next to my desk), as I was searching through that for the newest edits of The Guitar Hero Goes Home, what to my wondering eyes should appear but — yes — the new pages of Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town!! I had totally forgotten, for a moment, anyway, that I was one-third of the way in to writing a completely new novel.
So. On we go — right, gang??
And on that note, I guess I better scoot!! I hope you are having a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with another old song from my wee bonny teenage girlhood.
I recently began following Stephen Bishop on Instagram, and was, of course, reminded of this amazingly lovely sad poignant song of his from when I was 16. (Talk about a perfect song for a melancholy 16-year-old girlhood!!) If you’re too young to know this song, it is really lovely — all about heartache (with which I have yet again been struggling here). So listen and enjoy — or cry or whatever suits you!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.
“On And On”
Down in Jamaica, they got lots of pretty women
Steal your money, then they break your heart
Lonesome Sue, she’s in love with old Sam
Take him from the fire into the frying pan
On and on, she just keeps on trying
And she smiles when she feels like crying
On and on, on and on, on and on
Poor old Jimmy sits alone in the moonlight
Saw his woman kiss another man
So he takes a ladder, steals the stars from the sky
Puts on Sinatra and starts to cry
On and on, he just keeps on trying
And he smiles when he feels like crying
On and on, on and on, on and on
When the first time is the last time
It can make you feel so bad
But if you know it, show it
Hold on tight, don’t let her say goodnight
Got the sun on my shoulders and my toes in the sand
Woman’s left me for some other man
Aw, but I don’t care, I’ll just dream and stay tanned
Toss up my heart and see where it lands
On and on, I just keep on trying
And I smile when I feel like dying
On and on, on and on, on and on
On and on, on and on, on and on
On and on, on and on, on and on
Yes, well, Ringo Starr turns 80 today, if you can wrap your mind around that!! (I can’t.)
I was a huge Beatles fan as a little girl. When I was 5, there was a Beatles cartoon that was shown on TV very early on Sunday mornings in Cleveland.
I’m not sure why it was shown on Sunday mornings, since most cartoons (that weren’t religious, like Davey & Goliath) were shown on Saturday mornings.
However, The Beatles cartoon was shown on Sunday mornings in Cleveland and I absolutely loved it. And at that point, Ringo Starr was my favorite Beatle. But, also, at that point, I only knew what they looked like as cartoons!! Then, when I was a little bit older and saw the movie A Hard Day’s Night on television, and saw what they actually looked like as non-cartoons, I was absolutely smitten with all of them.
Anyway. I can’t believe that Ringo is 80. He looks fantastic, btw. I follow him on Instagram so I see his posts all the time and there’s just no way on Earth he seems 80. Unlike Paul McCartney, who has become very “Sir Paul”-like, Ringo is still really groovy.
When I was 10, after The Beatles broke up, Ringo released a single that became a huge hit in the US and the UK. I remember buying the 45 RPM at Woolworth’s and then playing the record un-endingly for months afterward. I just loved the song — “It Don’t Come Easy.”
George Harrison produced it. (This is a shot of them using a Moog synthesizer during the Abby Road recordings, but I’m guessing they looked exactly the same when they recorded “It Don’t Come Easy”!!)
Well, all I can say is happy birthday, Ringo. That guy has seen so much. And yet he still seems like a really happy guy.
All righty. Back to the editing on The Guitar Hero Goes Home today. Yesterday was a complete wash out, work-wise. I was not able to focus. I am going to try like heck to get some work done today, though. We shall see.
Okay, gang. Thanks for visiting. You know what I’m leaving you with today. Play it loud!! Be happy & enjoy your day. I love you guys. See ya.
“It Don’t Come Easy”
It don’t come easy,
You know it don’t come easy.
It don’t come easy,
You know it don’t come easy.
Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don’t come easy.
You don’t have to shout or leap about,
You can even play them easy.
Forget about the past and all your sorrows,
The future won’t last,
It will soon be over tomorrow.
I don’t ask for much, I only want your trust,
And you know it don’t come easy.
And this love of mine keeps growing all the time,
And you know it just ain’t easy.
Open up your heart, let’s come together,
Use a little love
And we will make it work out better.
Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don’t come easy.
You don’t have to shout or leap about,
You can even play them easy.
Peace, remember peace is how we make it,
Here within your reach
If you’re big enough to take it.
I don’t ask for much, I only want your trust,
And you know it don’t come easy.
And this love of mine keeps growing all the time,
And you know it don’t come easy.
I know you’re going to stop believing me, but it is yet another unbelievably beautiful day here today, gang!
And I am off to town here shortly to get the groceries.
Sorry for not posting yesterday, but I actually was totally wiped out from finally completing Letter #8 for Girl in the Night. Not that it was so taxing to actually write it, but every day that I worked on it last week, the temperatures hovered around 90 degrees Fahrenheit. So it was more the relentless heat hovering around my desk each day that wiped me out.
During the evenings, though, it really cools down around here and then the house is wonderful by morning. But, again, today, it’s supposed to zoom up to 94 by midday…
So!!
I did go to Granville last evening to have dinner with Kevin (the director of Tell My Bones) and his husband, at the Granville Inn. My first time being out and about and socializing since March 14th.
I had such a great time. I was really sort of anxious regarding how I was going to feel to see the inn during a pandemic, with everyone wearing masks and all that, but honestly, it was not so bad. They’re just face masks, right? It’s not as if some sort of irreparable horrific deformity has befallen anyone — it’s just a mask.
And we ate out on the patio, so were able to keep our own masks off the whole time. We were there for 3 hours. I could not believe how the time flew.
And I made a vow to myself before getting out of the car to not talk about politics. But, of course, this is America, and the overwhelming amount of artillery focused on removing Trump from the White House is hard to not at least mention.
I am, of course, opposed to Biden and that whole crew (and curious why more people aren’t talking about the news re: the Obama-Biden collusion on the Logan Act re: Flynn … hmmm.) Anyway. I’m not voting for Biden because I don’t trust him or any of the machinery in full force behind him right now. So I have no clue how to vote in November. And of course, some of the things I feel about what’s going on in Washington right now had to come up in conversation — because they asked me.
And when I replied (trying hard not to get on my soapbox) they both sort of stared at me and said “How do you know all this stuff? You should run for President.”
I didn’t say this, but what should really happen is that more Democrats should leave the realm of CNN, and make a determined effort to seek out a news source that just relays facts, without the selective omissions and opinions, and then I think more & more Democrats would know this same stuff. (And I don’t think that too many Republicans are actually in the dark about how the news is getting reported & by whom — because we Democrats are notoriously known for thinking with our hearts, our compassion, and not studying the facts for ourselves. Which is why we are so easily led astray by drama and hysteria.)
Anyway, if more Americans would try harder to seek out facts for themselves, then more of us would see that on ALL sides we are receiving a dramatic distortion by those who would profit from us believing their lies. ALL sides. And right now, I think that the Democratic Party is the worst I’ve ever seen it.
I’m guessing a bunch of people are just going to vote for Kanye West at this point…
We actually did not talk too much about politics, per se. Although we did talk a bit about the progressive/liberal “Hitler Youth” mentality that continues to sweep the college-aged generation of Americans right now. That is truly scary and just fucking awful. (And what’s worse is that they probably don’t even know who the Hitler Youth were because so many public school-educated young people all over the US are not taught History or Civics anymore.) (Or Art, or Music, or Drama…) (They’re taught anger and intolerance with a little entitlement thrown in.)
And we also talked a little about what China is doing to the Uyghur women in those internment camps (!!) involving shaving their heads and then trying to sell the hair to Americans… And why aren’t more Americans alarmed by that? And by the uncomfortable parallels to Auschwitz? Or by the global pandemic of slavery in the world right now?
Mind-boggling to me. All anyone wants to talk about is “get Trump out of the White House” and all problems will be solved.
Well, all that aside, it was great to be out with friends and have dinner at a place I truly love.
Some good news — the Nick Cave Instagram site announced today that those videos the fans submitted for Bad Seed TeeVee will be shown on Friday July 10th and on Friday July 17th, in a 24-hour loop, starting at 10am BST. So that should be kind of amazing!!
Beyond that, I’m getting back to the final edits of The Guitar Hero Goes Home later today — once I get back from town. I want to make sure the temperatures are at their peak around here before I get down to any serious work at my desk…
All righty, gang! On that note — I’m outta here. Have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I will leave you with some travelin’ music as I prepare to scoot right out the door! “Travelin'” by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, off of Nobody’s Children from their Playback Collection. Listen and enjoy and maybe even scoot out the door, too, and go somewhere!! Okay. I love you guys. See ya!
Travelin’
Well I’m travelin’, travelin’ baby, travelin’ on
Well it’s good to see you but I can’t stay long
No I’ve got a travelin’ fever, baby, got a travelin’ jones
No don’t look for me in the mornin’, baby, I’m gonna be travelin’ on
I’ll be good, as good as gold
To the next or maybe better
Wait for me down the road
Keep one eye open for my letter
Cause I’m gonna be travelin’, travelin’ baby, travelin’ on
Lord it’s good to see you but I can’t stay long
Oh I’ve got a travelin’ fever, baby, got a travelin’ jones
Well don’t look for me in the mornin’, baby, I’m gonna be travelin’
Gonna be travelin’, gonna be travelin’ on
I’ll be up before the sun
Get a big jump on the morning
You should have known all along
You should have known you’d get no warning
And I’m gonna be travelin’, travelin’ baby, travelin’ on
But lord it’s good to see you but I won’t stay long
Oh I got a travelin’ fever, baby, I got a travelin’ jones
Yeah don’t look for me in the mornin’, baby, I’m gonna be travelin’
Gonna be travelin’, gonna be travelin’ on
Travelin’ on, travelin’ on
Travelin’ on, travelin’ on
Well I’m travelin’, travelin’ baby, travelin’ on
Yeah it’s good to see you but I can’t stay long
Yeah I got a travelin’ fever, baby, a travelin’ jones
Well don’t look for me in the mornin’, baby, I’m gonna be travelin’
Gonna be travelin’, gonna be travelin’ on
Wow, gang. The temperature dipped down into the 50s Fahrenheit, making for just a delightful little morning here. I could still keep some of the windows open during the night, but also get snuggly in bed. Perfect sleeping weather.
And now the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and it just feels like a perfect morning.
I got good work done on the edits of Peitor’s new book yesterday — still have a few days worth of work ahead of me, though. But he’s written a really cool book — a really engaging read, so I don’t mind editing it at all.
And when I wasn’t editing, I was continuing to read Sharon Olds’ collection of poems, The Father. And even though it is extremely well written, and some very arresting imagery is expressed (it’s a collection of poems chronicling the death of her father), I just kept going right back to Anne Sexton’s Complete Poems. She just inspires me to the moon and back, you know? And she’s really moving me along in Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse.
It’s weird because this is certainly not the first time I’ve read Anne Sexton’s poems, or even The Complete Poems — Wayne and I had that book, back when I was still married to him, back in NYC. And I used to read it. But for whatever reason, right now, I am totally hooked into it. Totally. Can’t put her poems down.
And even while she is not the aforementioned “Muse” I’m writing to (i.e., “erotic love letters to the Muse”), she is definitely “musing” me right along right now. And I am really enjoying that flow.
I’m reading the Sharon Olds collection specifically because I began reading an academic book that focuses on how the “confessional- style” poets Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Adrienne Rich, and Sharon Olds deal with the themes of father-daughter incest in their poetry.
(After Anne Sexton’s death, a previous psychiatrist of hers, violating the mandate of doctor-patient confidentiality, released Anne’s private transcripts to the world (via a book about Anne’s life), revealing that she may have been the victim of incest with her father when she was growing up, and also that Anne herself had engaged in incestuous behavior with one of her daughters — with which that particular daughter concurred, later, in her own memoir.)
Sharon Olds doesn’t seem to have had that issue to contend with in her life, but some of the ideas she touches on in The Father poems could be construed as exploring a certain sexual energy, for lack of a better way of explaining it. But, to me, it feels more like a human energy, a “thought-exploration” that opens all kinds of doors inside a woman’s mind when someone she loves has died. I certainly wouldn’t describe it as “incest” or even truly “Oedipal”, for that matter.
I’ve read a lot of Sylvia Plath in my life, but not a lot of Adrienne Rich poems, for some reason. But I still found that academic book (mentioned above) highly interesting because the incest theme is certainly a huge part of my own life and my writing (my biological father, not my adoptive one). And the book did sort of indicate that, in regards to that specific theme in my life, I definitely seem to have never grown up. (I am paraphrasing, hugely.) But in that same regard, based on the author’s conclusions about Anne Sexton and Anne’s approach to that topic in her own work — and drawing from Freud and that whole crowd — neither one of us really grew up.
It could be that my intense immaturity is why I find Anne Sexton’s poems so inspiring! (I do, of course, jest.) (I think.)
Anyway. I appear to be deep into some sort of digression here. Not sure how that happened. One minute, I was talking about the lovely weather, then the next minute, I was talking about incest…
But that’s just the splendiferous joy of spending time in Marilyn’s Room. We never know where my digressions will take us!!
Meanwhile…
Wow, I really enjoyed that movie I mentioned yesterday Behind the Curtain (1929). I finished streaming it last evening, and it did indeed have Charlie Chan in it — midway through, the location switches to San Francisco and that is where Charlie Chan is living at that point. AND, I might add, they had an actual Chinese actor playing Charlie Chan!! Something they don’t seem to have ever again done, until some remake in the early 1980s, or something like that.
Plus, Boris Karloff puts in an appearance, as well — playing a Persian manservant (!!). But overall, I just felt the story was really good, really engaging. I mean the morals are outdated, but the storyline was really good for its era. It was certainly a much deeper film than any of the Charlie Chan one-hour movies that Hollywood began making in the 1930s, when Warner Oland began starring as Charlie Chan. (And the Charlie Chan movies get even more formulaic after Warner Oland died and Sidney Toler was playing Charlie Chan — well in the 1940s. It gets to the point when I can no longer even watch them; they just become paper-thin.)
Anyway, Behind the Curtain was a nice surprise.
Overall, I had just a wonderful day and evening yesterday. Today, I’m scheduled to work again with Peitor on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. Plus chat with Valerie about design-related stuff for my upcoming novel The Guitar Hero Goes Home.
Which reminds me… I was chatting on the phone with my ex-husband, Wayne, in NYC, the other day. And he was commenting on a sample of the cover art I had texted him for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. Apparently, he had gone onto Amazon to see if the novel was for sale yet, and he told me he was kind of astounded by how many of my books are for sale on Amazon…
Well, this astounded me because nowadays I have only two-pages on Amazon, mostly for out of print books or for eBooks. Whereas, even just a few years ago, I had a couple dozen pages, and most of my books, from all over the world, were still in print.
Wayne commented to me, “Wow, you’ve really done a lot of writing.’
And then I thought, like: Wow, where were you the entire time we were married? You know? I was publishing tons of stuff the entire time we were married. I was winning literary awards all over the fucking place. Giving readings all the time — and not just in NYC, but in Boston, Cambridge, LA, London, Paris. I was using my advance money from publishers in Europe to take us on great vacations. And I was always, always, always working on one publishing project or another the entire time we were married.
It felt shocking to me that he seems to have no recollection of this. And it makes me wonder who he remembers being married to for 14 years, you know? It was actually kind of upsetting to me, but I didn’t say anything. We’re not married anymore, and haven’t been since 2007. There’s no reason to even go there, right?
However, it did sort of renew that feeling in me that the work women do is never deemed as important as what the men are doing. At least, in my marriage it felt that way.
Although, when I left Wayne and began living with Mikey Rivera, it was just so different. Mikey was unbelievably supportive of my writing — of every single thing I wrote. He was an under-educated Puerto Rican plumber, raised in a Brooklyn ghetto, but he was just so proud of my being a writer. And during those early years with him, I really began to write some of my best work.
Anyway. Life goes on.
So, I’ll close this now and get Saturday happening here! Thanks for visiting, gang. I was listening to the Essential Nina Simone last night while drifting in and out of sleep — and, eventually, I was dead to the world as it played on into the darkness and turned itself off.
What a great collection! I’ll just randomly leave you with her version of a BeeGees’ song I’ve always loved, “To Love Somebody.” Listen and enjoy, but the entire selection is just stellar. And have a great Saturday, wherever you are in the world, gang! I love you guys. See ya!
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
Here, today should be even more beautiful than yesterday was — and yesterday was kind of unbelievable, gang. Hence, I never managed to get onto the blog and post anything. I did get a good bunch of edits done on The Guitar Hero Goes Home yesterday, but other than that, I just didn’t want to be at my desk.
My breathing is FINALLY back to 100% and I just wanted to be out in the sunshine.
This is the weekend that I usually plant my flowers. But I’m not 100% sure I want to go get the flowers today, since this whole area has come out of lockdown and, even though we still need to wear masks and only a certain number of people are allowed in the stores at one time, there will likely still be a crowd at the store since the weather will be ideal for gardening and yard work, etc. And that means waiting in a long line to get inside.
So I might just wait until Tuesday, when the holiday weekend is over. But I’m feeling that having my flowers out and about will make it feel like life is finally back to (the new) normal around here.
Nick Cave sent out a very brief Red Hand Files reply-thingy yesterday — it was quite cute, and heavily implied that we should not kowtow to the cat… (You can read it at the link there, it should take you about 4.6 seconds.)
And speaking of cats — every one of them was just so happy around here, yesterday. It was just so sunny and warm, they were having the best time at all the open windows. (And so was I — I love the way this house feels when all the windows are open again.)
Well, for some reason, I’ve been in a real poetry-reading mood around here lately. Even though I still have two books I’m in the middle of reading (Whatever Comes My Way: Travels in the Netherlands by my friend & colleague, Roger Gaess; and The Judas Brief: A Critical Investigation into the Arrest and Trials of Jesus and the Role of the Jews by Gary Greenberg), I’ve just been wanting to read poetry.
Currently, I’m reading Anne Sexton’s Live or Die (1966 — winner of the Pulitzer Prize); Sharon Olds (The Father: Poems (1992) and Strike Sparks: Selected Poems 1980-2002); and The Poems of Octavio Paz (English translation -2018).
And, since I long ago ran out of Mr. Moto movies to stream, I switched over to the Charlie Chan movies. I have seen all of the Charlie Chan movies that star either Warner Oland or Sidney Toler a bazillion times. I love these movies. (Racial stereotypes galore, notwithstanding.)
Out of the couple of dozens of Charlie Chan movies made, my favorites are the ones from the mid-1930s, that starred Warner Oland, and often Keye Luke as his son. Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935) is great — if you can come to terms with Stepin Fetchit (the actor, Lincoln Perry’s, stage name). It helps to not try to lay contemporary cultural standards over top of these movies from 90 years ago. If you’re not able to do that, than just don’t even try to watch these films. Otherwise, Charlie Chan in Paris (also 1935) is also really good, followed closely by Charlie Chan on Broadway (1937).
All of these movies were only an hour long and low budget and relied heavily on stock footage, which is one of my favorite things about these films. Actual footage of Luxor and the Valley of the Kings; of Paris, and of Broadway from the mid-1930s. Pre-WWII and moving out of the Great Depression. I especially love the footage of Paris.
Which reminds me — I decided to continue studying French, now that I have the Mondly app for another year. It seemed to me that it would actually be useful to me, instead of undertaking an entirely new language just to do it, without any reason to think I would actually ever use the language anywhere. At least my new friends in Switzerland speak French, so I will have reason to use it all the time.
The Mondly app also lets you have conversations with it and can correct your accent. So far, my accent has been reasonably good! You can hear yourself have the conversation with the app, which is a native-speaker of the language you’re studying. So you can actually hear your own accent immediately. It is a really fun app. However, if you’re trying to seriously learn a language from scratch and are only using the app, I’m not sure how effective it actually is.
Well, anyway! I’m yet again “studying” French — which means 52 years now of “studying” it. Perhaps I should have the epitaph on my tombstone be en francais!! That way, when I stand in front of my own tombstone, in Spirit, I can look at it and cry out: “What does it say??!! I don’t speak French! I’m still studying it!!”
Perhaps I should have the epitaph read:
Qu’est-ce que ça dit? Je ne parle pas français. (“What does that say? I don’t speak French.”)
And then when some non-French-speaking person happens upon my grave here in Crazeysburg, looks at my tombstone and says: “What does that say? I don’t speak French.” I can stand next to them (in Spirit), chuckle softly and say to them: “Au contraire — apparently you do!”
All righty!! Let’s get this day happening here, okay? Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a terrific Saturday, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys. See ya!
Sorry for being late this morning. Not only was it a rain-free and very mild morning around here, but after my first cup of coffee, I also ran out of milk — the only thing I hadn’t foreseen yesterday when I decided to delay my trip into town because of the flooded roads.
And loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I cannot drink my coffee without milk in it.
So, since it was sort of a perfect Spring morning, I went ahead and got into my car and drove into town and was at the market by 8:30am.
I’ve had just a really perfect morning so far, and I’m expecting a really good day ahead. I got some great editing work done on The Guitar Hero Goes Home yesterday and am hoping that it will be similar today.
I also stopped into the Home Depot while I was in town and I got a bunch more yard waste bags. I can get the front porch area cleaned up in time for the upcoming holiday weekend — which is when I buy my flowers!! I’m getting excited, gang. That feeling of Summer is definitely on its way.
And I forgot to mention that the Amish guys were back in touch with me the other day about giving me a new barn door, so that’s scheduled to happen the first week of June. I can’t wait. This means that not only will I have a barn door that’s not lying flat on the ground but is on the actual barn where it’s supposed to be, but also I will finally be able to get in and out of the main part of my barn all by myself. Something I have not been able to do the entire time I’ve lived here. I’ve always needed an extra person to help because part of the door was off of its roller. (Now the whole door is off the rollers and has fallen over for good…)
There’s so much cool old stuff in that barn that now I’ll be able to start going through whenever I want to. Just a real adventure — going through one hundred years of old stuff!
Okay. I’m going close this and get started here today. The morning is almost over. I hope you are having a perfect Thursday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my listening-music from last night. Thanks to a friend on Instagram, I was in a Nina Simone frame of mind, playing a lot of her greatest romantic hits. This specific song is not romantic and was banned in most of the South when she first recorded it — “Mississippi Goddam” (1964, Live at Carnegie Hall). Listen and think. And have good day. I love you guys. See ya!
“Mississippi Goddam”
The name of this tune is Mississippi Goddam
And I mean every word of it
Alabama’s gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam
Alabama’s gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam
Can’t you see it
Can’t you feel it
It’s all in the air
I can’t stand the pressure much longer
Somebody say a prayer
Alabama’s gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam
This is a show tune
But the show hasn’t been written for it, yet
Hound dogs on my trail
School children sitting in jail
Black cat cross my path
I think every day’s gonna be my last
Lord have mercy on this land of mine
We all gonna get it in due time
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong there
I’ve even stopped believing in prayer
Don’t tell me
I tell you
Me and my people just about due
I’ve been there so I know
They keep on saying “Go slow!”
But that’s just the trouble
“do it slow”
Washing the windows
“do it slow”
Picking the cotton
“do it slow”
You’re just plain rotten
“do it slow”
You’re too damn lazy
“do it slow”
The thinking’s crazy
“do it slow”
Where am I going
What am I doing
I don’t know
I don’t know
Just try to do your very best
Stand up be counted with all the rest
For everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam
I made you thought I was kiddin’
Picket lines
School boy cots
They try to say it’s a communist plot
All I want is equality
for my sister my brother my people and me
Yes you lied to me all these years
You told me to wash and clean my ears
And talk real fine just like a lady
And you’d stop calling me Sister Sadie
Oh but this whole country is full of lies
You’re all gonna die and die like flies
I don’t trust you any more
You keep on saying “Go slow!”
“Go slow!”
But that’s just the trouble
“do it slow”
Desegregation
“do it slow”
Mass participation
“do it slow”
Reunification
“do it slow”
Do things gradually
“do it slow”
But bring more tragedy
“do it slow”
Why don’t you see it
Why don’t you feel it
I don’t know
I don’t know
You don’t have to live next to me
Just give me my equality
Everybody knows about Mississippi
Everybody knows about Alabama
Everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam
Marilyn's Room 