Tag Archives: Tom Petty

Gotta Love Summer, Gang!!

It’s not terribly hot here today, but we’re going to have nothing but high humidity and rain and thunderstorms all day and on into the night.

The good news (although I actually like rain and thunderstorms), but the true good news is that the problem I was having with my lungs after the virus — catching my breath during days of high humidity — that residual effect from the virus is almost completely gone.

So, apparently, I won’t have that problem for the rest of my life, as I was starting to fear. So that is some truly good news.

I don’t actually have a  whole lot to blog about today, mostly I am focused on my writing projects and the (ever-shrinking!!) To-Do list for Abstract Absurdity Productions.

I might actually try my hand at another chapter for In the Shadow of Narcissa. However, as I’ve stated here on the blog before, I’m not sure if I will keep posting the new chapters to the website or not. I am seeing sings (also signs!!) that it is being downloaded in foreign lands, probably by someone gearing up to pirate it.  In fact, they are probably annoyed that it’s taking me so long to finish the darn book!!!

I do apologize — my brain has not been working properly since something like early March…

Okay.

I checked out the new Tom Petty video yesterday — the one that is a sample of the upcoming Wildflowers Pt. 2 collection that is at long last in the works. (It’s called something else, though, that’s not the official title.) As I said yesterday, the “new song” that dropped yesterday, is a homemade demo he made of the song “You Don’t Know How it Feels” — a hit from his Wildflower solo album (1994).

I have to say that Tom Petty’s homemade 8-track demos (made when he was extremely famous and very rich) sound remarkably better than any 8-track homemade demos I ever made!!

The demo is okay, but the video, gang — I thought it was GREAT. It was created and directed by Ben “Blaze” Brooks and Aaron Hymes. And I just loved it. And I think that Tom Petty himself would have loved it. It’s posted below for today’s listening music!!

BTW, if you weren’t aware — Tom Petty was also an artist. In fact, he went to art school after high school but was quickly expelled for not attending classes because (according to his biography) he was too busy doing a bunch of, well,  sort of intimate stuff with some girl!!  Anyway — he drew, he painted. He was very talented in that way, too. So I think he would have loved the video these guys made because it relies on some of the iconic artwork Tom Petty did during his career.

Okay, on that note, I really gotta scoot!! But thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you enjoy your Saturday, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys. See ya!

Almost Time to Harvest those Peaches!!

Can you believe it’s already late June?? Peaches are beginning to get ripe?  A moment ago, it was February…

I have, like, a hard time getting my mind around that. And even though we’re mostly out of lock down around here, and Kevin (the director of my play, Tell My Bones — whenever that manages to get off the ground again, sometime in 2021); well, he and I keep saying we’re going to meet for dinner at the Granville Inn — I keep sort of dragging my feet because I’m not sure I want to see that beloved place with everyone wearing masks.

But of course, if everyone thinks that way, then nothing will get back to normal.

Anyway. It’s late June and I still halfway feel like I’m still in lockdown mode. But part of that is okay because the evenings around here have just been splendid.

By late afternoon, I finally was able to pull myself out of what was happening to me yesterday, gang, but it got really really bad before I was able to do that.

I don’t know why, but sometimes, my triggers get hit so hard (by key people in my life) that the spiraling down just takes over and happens so fast. I get like a zombie; it’s so awful. At its worst point, I went out and took a walk, but I had to absolutely force myself.

I walked into the dollar store and bought vitamins that I didn’t even really need — clearly not someone hell bent on self-destruction, right?  Just trying to interact with reality. And with the nice lady behind the checkout counter. She smiled and said, “How are you today?” And I was forced to be fake and say, “I’m good. How are you?” But it helps. It really does — hearing my voice say that. It’s at least something that’s not telling me to die.

Then on my way back home, I ran into two older men (strangers) from the senior living complex, who were sitting on the bench in the town square (that’s really a triangle). One of them was old enough to need a walker, but both of them were just so friendly and so nice. They forced me to remember for a few moments that life is beautiful. That I have every right to live.

Just two of the angels who came to my assistance yesterday. (I rely on some truly beautiful unknown angels; I really do.)

This thing that happens in my brain has nothing to do with how I actually feel about myself here & now. It’s an old program, an old voice, that gets triggered. Usually, I can override it all by myself. But yesterday was one of the scarier days.

You know, back when Tom Petty managed to become a heroin addict at age 50, it dawned on me that it was never too late to become a heroin addict. Or when all those famous movie stars who became alcoholics in their later years,  wound up drinking themselves to death, it served to remind me that it was never too late to become an incurable alcoholic. And then, when one of my colleagues — a very well-known erotic photographer — jumped to his death from his balcony in San Francisco a couple years ago, when he was in his late 70s… It’s just that horrible reminder that I never know what my brain is likely to start telling me if I’m not incredibly vigilant.

I did manage to get some work done — focusing on “tasks” kept my mind from doing that horrible shit. At one point, though, I was on Instagram, looking up the suicide hashtag and interestingly enough, when you enter that hashtag, a little gatekeeper comes up with a link to “Get Help.”

That was actually enough to shake me out of my tunnel vision — should I get help? — but I proceeded to the hashtag anyway. To see what people who think about suicide had posted there. But then it actually led me to some Anne Sexton poems, so I decided to follow the Anne Sexton hashtag instead, and that got me to a much better place. And eventually, it got me right back to my desk.

So, I was able to get some work done on Girl in the Night , and also tackle a lot of the stuff on my To-Do list for Abstract Absurdity Productions. That kind of focusing helped turned down the voice in my head a lot.

And then somebody I care about so much came through so unexpectedly, in spades, yesterday, and I was able to completely break the spiral.

Speaking of Tom Petty — the battling Petty clan seems to be coming to some sort of agreement to move forward on those early Wildflower tracks that were never released. And today, at TomPetty.com, the first song from that batch will be debuted. An 8-track version of his song “You Don’t Know How It Feels.”

I’m not sure I need to hear an 8-track version of that specific song, but I am really eager to hear that Wildflowers Part 2 collection, whenever it comes out. (Plenty of unreleased songs that he actually wanted released are supposed to be on it.)

I don’t know if you tuned into the NASA YouTube channel to watch the guys go off on their space walk this morning — at one point, nearly 77,000 viewers were streaming it. Wow, they have to wear so much stuff to go out for a walk in space. But it was still nice to see that Russians and Americans can thrive together way the heck out in outer space!! (If you’re too young to remember the original “space race” — the USA and the USSR couldn’t have been less accommodating of each other back then. To put it extremely mildly.)

Well, all righty. I guess I will get to work here on this beautiful day. Today, I know it’s Friday!! I have all my faculties in working order here today. So I hope you are gearing up for a nice weekend, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang.

Today, I will leave you with Neil Diamond yet again, but a much more uplifting song than yesterday’s (which was also a favorite of mine, even though it was sad). This one today is one that I post here a lot. But it is such a great song! “Sweet Caroline.” Who can ever get tired of it?? And this is such a great version of it. Okay. Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

Looks like my worst mistake was my best one!!!

Remember yesterday? Remember how I almost died there in my kitchen, trying to breathe while my lungs exploded after I used the steroid-based allergy spray for the first time in a month?

It took awhile for the feeling to level off, but it does seem like the steroids actually helped. By the end of yesterday, I was breathing normally for the first time in a month. And so far today, I’m still breathing normally.

So I used the allergy spray again this morning, since I need it for my allergies…

I hate to speak too soon, because every time I post here that it seems like I’m nearly 100% fine — finally — I then get breathing issues again. However, I actually am feeling just about 100% totally fine. So we’ll just see.

Well, my dad is leaving the house today for the first time in 6 weeks because he has a doctor’s appointment. When he told me about this yesterday, I was totally speaking to him like he was a two-year-old: Wear your mask, don’t touch anything, don’t speak to anybody, wash your hands! I was so not happy that he was planning on leaving the assisted living “compound,” you know? He’s almost 90 and he’s made it for 6 weeks without getting the virus.  And he lives in a county that has a high rate of not only the virus, but also deaths from the virus.

But off he goes to the doctor today, so we’ll just see about that, too.

All things considered, yesterday was a really good day around here. I discovered that the very old tree in my backyard  is a dogwood tree! I noticed yesterday that it was in bloom, so I went out to look at its blossoms and, lo & behold — it’s a dogwood. All the other dogwoods in town have lost their blossoms already and are green now.

I love dogwoods so much that I was even thinking recently that I should plant a dogwood tree in my backyard. And in keeping with the absolute magical nature of this crazy town — voila! — I suddenly discover that I have one!

The tree is ancient. Last spring, I did notice that it had some sort of white blossoms on it but I never took the time to really investigate them. However, since this spring I am just indescribably here, 24/7, and always looking out the kitchen window at my backyard, I took the time to really look at it. Plus, this spring, it seems to have way more blossoms than it had last year. So, what a great discovery.

My dogwood, yesterday afternoon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also, yesterday, the a1000mistakes blog out of Australia posted that Einstürzende Neubauten has a new album coming out on May 15th, Alles in Allem, and that they dropped an official video for a new song, “Ten Grand Goldie,” featuring Blixa Bargeld singing in a lovely surgical mask.

I watched that video many times yesterday — some of the lyrics are in English, but most of them are in German, so I have no idea what the song is about, but I still really liked watching it. (And it could very well be that even if I understood German, I still wouldn’t know what the song is about, because I don’t really understand what most Einstürzende Neubauten songs are about. ) Anyway. It’s posted below.

I also watched a video for The Birthday Party’s song from 1983, “Fears of Gun” numerous times.  Whoever put together the images for the video, I liked it a lot. It’s an intense song and I don’t think I ever really understood that song, either, even though it’s in English. It has something to do with not being super happy about love, though — and so on and so on…

I also streamed the movie The Vicious Circle, a British crime-thriller from 1957, starring John Mills (father of the indescribably adorable, Hayley). It was really good. I loved the cinematography — great black & white footage of London in the late 1950s. Plus, I never did figure out who the murderer was until the final 3 minutes of the film, so that was cool.

And I also did some thinking yesterday about how I’m feeling about my writing, even though I didn’t actually do any writing yet. When I spoke to the director of Tell My Bones on Wednesday, he mentioned again how “risky” the scene/song is that’s all about lynchings and slave auctions. And he kept saying that he loved it, and was standing by it, but that it was so risky. So I thought about that a lot yesterday, too — you know, like, why does he keep saying that it’s risky? Am I really setting myself up here?  To me, it just feels powerful and completely unexpected. Which, to me, is art, you know? It won’t be included in the staged reading, because none of the actual musical numbers will be included. But I know that it will at least be “alluded” to and I’m really curious to see how they’re going to do that.

Also, yesterday night, Dana Petty uploaded a photo she took of Tom Petty and their dog, Ryder, on a deserted  Malibu beach at sunset.  (If you didn’t see yesterday’s post, their dog, Ryder, died the other night.) Wow, what a stunning photo. It was so beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes. I know there must be a way to copy photos from Instagram, because I see Instagram photos on Pinterest a lot, but I do not know how to do it. So you’ll either have to follow Dana Petty on Instagram, or simply take my word for it that it was a really touching photo, even though it’s mostly a photo of Tom Petty from behind, as the dog is running toward him, along the beach. (It did have the feeling like the two of them were already in heaven…)

Okay, well. Today is May 1st ! Which was Elvis & Priscilla’s wedding day. And also my own wedding day — back in 1993. I have no idea where the time went, so don’t even ask me!! But May 1st, nonetheless, is one of my favorite days of the year.

I believe in spring weddings — I really do. I’m totally into the whole “I’ll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time” idea. Both my weddings were in the spring. (And I actually left both marriages in the spring, although I didn’t plan it to be like that.) If I ever get married again, I think I’d like to choose a spring day that doesn’t actually exist — you know, make something up: like, Tuenesday May 34th. Something like that. And perhaps then the marriage will only exist in theory and thus be a spectacular success. We’ll see!!

Okay. I’ve just been notified on Instagram that Bad Seeds TeeVee has just had some new videos uploaded to it, so I will no doubt watch that again today! I am actually going to try to do some writing today, too. I am feeling that good, finally.

So I’m gonna get this day underway here. Thanks for visiting, gang.  I hope you have a perfect Friday, all things considered, wherever you are in the world.

I leave you with all my listening music from yesterday: “Dead Radio,” by Rowland S. Howard, from his amazing Teenage Snuff Film album (1999). The aforementioned “Fears of Gun,” by The Birthday Party, which I believe is from their Mutiny EP (1983) but I’m not positive about that (lyrics are in the video). And Einstürzende Neubauten’s brand new song, “Ten Grand Goldie,” from the upcoming Alles in Allem (some lyrics, in both German and English are in the video).

All righty! Enjoy. I love you guys See ya.

“Dead Radio”

You’re bad for me like cigarettes
But I haven’t sucked enough of you yet
Nothing is sacred and nothing is true
I’m no-one that’s nowhere when I’m here with you

I’ve lost the power I had to distinguish
Between what to ignite and what to extinguish

I blew in last night, I’m the ghost from the coast
When the lighting is bad I’m the man with the most
You left me to choke on a heart up in smoke
Smiling through your tears and your tetracycline overdose

You’re good for me like Coca-Cola
I don’t get any younger, you don’t get any older
Everything’s sacred and everything’s true
All of this is possible when I’m here with you

I’ve got a lot to say but I keep my own counsel
I’d like to spit it out but I won’t speak with my mouth full

I blew in last night, I’m the ghost from the coast
When the lighting is bad I’m the man with the most
You left me to choke on a heart up in smoke
Smiling through your tears and your tetracycline overdose

© 1999 Rowland S. Howard

Big Bunch of Stuff On A Rainy Day

In case you’re not among the nearly 70,000 people who already know this, Nick Cave dropped a new “official video” yesterday on YouTube. His cover of T.Rex’s 1968 song “Cosmic Dancer.”

It is really, really lovely. Not only Nick Cave’s singing, but the whole video is lovely — it includes some really uplifting footage of Marc Bolan, both onstage and off. You can watch it at the bottom of this post.

The song is apparently to be included in a  Marc Bolan tribute album coming in September, with a big bunch of other people contributing songs, too. I am not a fan of tribute albums in any way whatsoever — like, not even close. But Nick Cave’s cover of “Cosmic Dancer” is beautiful and so is the video.

And speaking of videos…

Last evening, I watched My Darling Vivian on Amazon. It is streaming free this week, as part of Amazon’s support of the SXSW 2020 Film Festival that was canceled because of the virus — it gives filmmakers a chance to have their films seen despite the cancellation of the festival, so check it out. There are lots of films being shown. Not just documentaries.

That said, though, My Darling Vivian is a documentary about Johnny Cash’s first wife, Vivian Libretto. And if you like Johnny Cash, you kinda have to make yourself watch this. And try not to sit there with your mouth hanging open. And then you kinda have to ask yourself how on Earth did Vivian manage to survive her marriage to Johnny Cash and go on to live as long as she did without shooting herself?

The documentary is told by Johnny’s 4 daughters — Roseanne, Cindy, Kathy, and Tara. And Johnny does not come off like some sort of true bad guy; he comes off as someone who had a lot of problems with drugs and fame. However, if you liked June Carter Cash (Johnny’s second wife), get ready to not like her so much anymore.

I thought it was just a really well done documentary. I don’t love Johnny Cash any less. But it was still illuminating — what he allowed to happen to his first wife and the mother of 4 of his children. And what the press can do to absolutely crush a defenseless woman and how it can make her utterly disappear when the second wife is someone famous.

On another super cheerful note… Dana Petty announced on Instagram yesterday that her and Tom’s beloved dog, Ryder, died in her arms late Tuesday night. So fucking sad, right? Though Tom adopted Dana’s son, Dylan, from a previous marriage, they didn’t have any biological children between them, but they did have dogs. Plenty of dogs. Tom Petty loved dogs — like, seriously.

When Tom Petty and his first band, Mudcrutch, got their first record deal, he loaded up the station wagon with his gear, his dogs, his new (and newly pregnant) first wife; left Florida and off they all went to LA. The first album bombed, and so, unable to feed a wife and brand new baby, Tom sent them back home to Florida until he could afford to feed them — but he kept the dogs. I mean, how much can dogs eat, right — besides everything in sight??

Anyway. Tom always loved his dogs.  And Ryder was Tom’s final dog before he died, 2 years and 8 months ago.

So now Ryder is at play eternally with Tom in the fields of the Lord, but Dana is going through even more loss right now and it’s just so sad. (And things always feel doubly sad when you read about them in the middle of the night on Instagram, don’t they? And all the photos, too?)

Together again now, forever.

Okay. On the good news front…

I had a really great phone conversation with the director of Tell My Bones yesterday, and the plans for doing the Zoom version of the staged reading continue to move forward and his plans for the production of it are making me really, really happy, gang. I will go over more of the details when it feels appropriate to start blogging about it.

On the virus front…

I was finally feeling pretty good today. My lungs felt reasonably clear. So, for the first time in over a month, I took Flonase for my allergies. I’d been afraid to take it until now because it’s a steroid and I was really wary of what a steroid taken through the nose would do to a bat-borne virus that lives in the nose and lungs.

So far, I’m okay. But when I first took it, man — I thought my lungs were going to explode and I’d have a heart attack or something. And I stood in the kitchen, in front of an open window, trying like crazy to breathe, and I thought, well, today’s as good a day as any to die. But then  it settled down and I was able to breathe again. And so now we’ll just see. The Flonase was probably not a good idea yet, but so far, I haven’t died.

I did drive into town yesterday to get the groceries. And the market is right next to a Home Depot, which is where I buy all my flowers every spring. I always wait until Memorial Day to get the flowers because the frost is completely done by then and the flowers are all on sale for the holiday. But yesterday — man was I tempted to get an early start this year! Brighten up my porches!

However, I have to spend a lot of money on the barn over the next few weeks, so I’ll wait until that’s done. But I am so ready for flowers around here, gang! (I’m so ready for a lot of things. Aren’t we all?)

All righty. Well, I guess I’ll close this. then call my dad and get the weather report!! (Honestly. What is it about dads and weather??) I hope you enjoy your Thursday as best you can, wherever you are in the world.

Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with this lovely version of “Cosmic Dancer.” Enjoy, okay? I love you guys. See ya!

The Joys of Teeny Tiny Movies!!

Wow. I’m going to start right off with a digression.

Valentine’s Day on Instagram is quite a fertile little world, in and of itself. The things people choose to post can be just really illuminating.

A poet I follow who lives in Canada — I actually know her, but we haven’t worked together in years. She seems to have quite an eclectic assortment of vibrators. And they also seem to have some sort of seasonal appeal. Meaning — much like me and my dishes — she has favorites for various times of the year and she photographs them (just the vibrator itself) and posts it to Instagram.

Yesterday, of course, she posted a photo of her Valentine’s Day vibrator. (It was red and looked almost sort of like a heart – in a Salvador Dali kind of way).

It would never, in a million years, occur to me to post anything like that to Instagram (or anywhere, actually). (Not that I have an eclectic assortment of vibrators. I’m just saying.)

But I guess, in a way, that’s art. Or perhaps visual erotic poetry, or something like that. (When she’s not photographing vibrators for the various holidays, she photographs chairs — all sorts of chairs that she sees abandoned on the streets.) (There are quite a huge amount of chairs abandoned on the streets in Canada, in case you were curious.)

Of course, Dana Petty posted a beautiful photo of herself with Tom, and said something about love, quoting Anais Nin. And then, moments later, one of Tom’s daughters posted a photo of Tom with his first wife, Jane. (So the step-mother-daughter feud seems to be alive and well out there in LA.)

Tom, of course, didn’t post anything at all to his Instagram page this year because he’s dead.

(Although his “official page” is still alive and well.) (And kicks into high gear whenever there’s something new from WB Records to merchandize — to make money off of him, posthumously.)

(Which only always makes me think of that staggering song he wrote, “Joe,” from The Last DJ album in 2002: So burned out Johnny thinks the books are shifty/ What good’s that alky to me when he’s fifty?/ Well we could move catalog if he’d only die quicker/ Send my regards to the gig and a case of good liquor/ He gets to be famous, I get to be rich/ He gets to be famous, I get to be rich…)

Then there was the usual assortment of really, really cute animal videos for Valentine’s Day.  (And I mean, really cute, gang. From owls to koalas, to tiny kittens playing with baby pigs. Just too fucking cute.)

And, of course, the veritable deluge of Keanu photos for Valentine’s Day. Currently, they are mostly of him with his mom at the Oscars (his fall-back female when he wants the paparazzi to fuck-off). (He has taken his mom to many, many, camera ops over the decades. And she always looks so fucking good. That mom of his doesn’t age at all.)

Image result for keanu with his mom at the oscars
Keanu in 2020, at age 55; Mom, ageless

(I’m seriously hoping that he and that really cool artist woman haven’t broken up, and that her absence was only a case of her saying “no way am I ever appearing with you in public again, dude, ever” — because she seriously got eaten alive by the tabloids after that last thing at the LA Art Museum-Gucci thing.  They just seemed so fucking happy together, though, so I would really hate to think they broke up. And he still looked really happy at the Oscars — (not that I watched it, I see the world through my Instagram feed!) (I hate awards shows) — I don’t think he’s got any kind of a broken heart or anything; I think maybe he just enjoys fucking with the tabloids.)

Anyway. A lot gets revealed on Instagram. Especially on Valentine’s Day. Or perhaps even very early the following morning. I, however, only ever post photos of my various cats or what the weather looks like outside of my various windows, or if there’s a full moon over Basin Street. Always the same sort of non-committal thing. (The blog is revealing enough, I think.)

Oh, and the official Nick Cave page posted a promo for his upcoming art exhibit in Copenhagen that was very humorous — and extremely short. I watched it 3 times before I realized I was watching the same clip over & over. But it was funny.

It had all the elements of an Abstract Absurdity Production, in fact!!

Which actually was what I wanted to post about today. All that stuff up above this is just a massive digression.

Peitor and I got such great work done on the “Lita” script yesterday! And I know this will sound perhaps absurd and abstract in and of itself, but we still only got 3 scenes onto the written page. And those scenes will each last 45 seconds or less. Still, it was great work. And even though it took hours, we were really, really happy with what we had accomplished when we were done working for the day.

(And then Peitor texted later in the evening, to say that we needed a shot of “the desk against the wall once we hear the keys in the door” and, once I thought about it, I saw that he was completely correct. I know that we probably seem insane, but this movie is going to be so fucking cool. Totally absurd and abstract and even a little erotic and disturbing and also quite lovely to look at!)

(And our micro-micro-micro shorts are going to be completely awesome, gang. Every time I think about them, I can’t help but chuckle out loud. We are planning to shoot 2 of those this year. I don’t think we’ll be shooting the “Lita” script this year, or, if we do, it will be very, very late in the year– yes (!!), probably when The Guide To Being Fabulous is premiering in Toronto. Because we refuse to even consider beginning shooting “Lita” until I get that specific A-list actor that I want for the key role. I’m so absolutely serious about that, gang.)

Well, we are planning to have the Abstract-Absurdity web site launched on April 1st, and a couple of the micro-shorts will be streaming there. So, I’ve gotta  lot of work to do there. But I will, no doubt, keep you posted.

Today, I am either going to work some more on In the Shadow of Narcissa — OR — write something Thug Luckless-related! Yes, gang, he’s pushing against the insides of my brain, trying to get onto the paper, too! So we’ll see.

And I spoke at length with Sandra yesterday — she’s up in Canada, now. And, based on her rehearsal schedule up there,  it sounds like the table-reads for Tell My Bones will begin in NYC in March. Shit. So — yeah. I gotta get my mind around that. March is, like, 14 seconds away. Thank god I don’t have to cast that thing. All I have to do is show up.

(And — NO! — even though it is super-duper incredibly easy to get to Copenhagen from JFK, I am not going to try to fit in a micro-short trip to Copenhagen to see the Nick Cave art exhibit! It is not going to happen, because it will only complicate my schedule, my work, my bank account, my life — so it ain’t happening. I’m not even going to think about it, or so much as ponder the logistics of it. And all the airline-booking-deal-alerts that pop onto my computer to tell me what flight deals might be lurking in the direction of Copenhagen will simply be ignored!!)

Yep. Absolutely.

And on that note!!! I’m gonna get started here, gang!! Have a wonderful, wonder-filled Saturday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I’m not gonna leave you with “Joe” today, even though it is an intense little song — it’s a bit too jaded and acerbic for my tastes here this morning. But I will leave you with something else from The Last DJ (such a great album, gang): “Have Love, Will Travel.” So fucking beautiful. All righty! I love you guys. See ya!

“Have Love, Will Travel”

You never had a chance, did you baby
So good-looking, so insecure
And now you say you can’t remember
When the lines you drew began to blur

Yeah, when all of this is over
Should I lose you in the smoke
I want you to know you were the one

And may my love travel with you everywhere
Yeah, may my love travel with you always

Maggie’s still trying to rope a tornado
Joe’s in the backyard trying to keep things simple
And the lonely DJ’s diggin’ a ditch
Trying to keep the flames from the temple

Oh, and if perhaps I lose you
In the smoke down the road
I want you to know you were the one

And may my love travel with you everywhere
Yeah, may my love travel with you always

How about a cheer for all those bad girls
And all the boys that play that rock and roll
They love it like you love Jesus
It does the same thing to their souls

And when all of this is over
Should I lose you in the smoke
I want you to know that it’s all right

And may my love travel with you everywhere
Yeah, may my love travel with you always

c- 2002 Tom Petty

Okay! I’ve Had My Bath!!

And now I’m thinking about getting into bed and streaming an episode of the old Perry Mason TV show, and just being happy as all get-out.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I never get tired of this TV show — the one from the late 1950s-early 1960s that starred Raymond Burr as Perry Mason. I have seen every single episode of this show more times than I can count, and yet I never get tired of watching it. Ever. And now it’s included in Amazon Prime. So there you have it: Me — addicted to it again!

Okay, well, I have nothing to really report today but I didn’t want the day to end without me popping in here to report that I’m just super happy, for a change, and I had just a really nice day.

And the thing with my healthcare provider got straightened out, even though it was still a holiday weekend. And the potentially huge bit of horribleness I was worried that I had caused to my bills got straightened out, also. So I’m just really relieved about that, and I’m going to try to come up with some sort of — I don’t know what — some sort of way of not being intensely caught up in my head anymore and just pay closer attention to the actual calendar. You know, so that I can be part of the same world that most other people are part of. I really need to get a grip again and stop doing weird stuff that freaks me out.

I am getting so excited about my mom coming — she comes a week from tomorrow. It’s all I can do to keep myself from putting the tree up before she even gets here.

When I packed up all my Christmas stuff after my last Christmas at the old house, I knew I would be in a new home the next time I unpacked it all. I thought I was going to be back in NY, but I never dreamed it would be three years before I finally unpacked everything again, so I’m eager to see what kind of Christmas stuff I actually have.

I don’t really have too much that has sentimental value, because Wayne got rid of all that stuff when I left him. I had asked him to please keep it for me until I could get settled somewhere and instead, he threw it all away because he was angry that I left. I wanted to kill him when I found out. That was all the stuff that had true sentimental value for me and could never be replaced. So the stuff I have now is just stuff I’ve bought since then that I liked. But it will be nice to see it all. Poignant, though, because Fluffy and Bunny and Daddycakes have all died since then.

Anyway, I’m so excited to see my mom again and put up the decorations with her.

Tomorrow’s phone chat with the director has been moved to Wednesday, so tomorrow will once again be just about me and whatever I feel like writing. (I’m trying to sort of storyboard Thug Luckless.) And I’m hoping to get a better night’s sleep tonight! My uncle is on a cruise right now and he texts me almost every day. But this morning, he was somewhere in Israel and texted me at 3:30 in the morning, and it woke me and I couldn’t really go back to sleep.

So I’m really sleepy and I’m going to close this now. I hope you’ve had a really terrific Sunday wherever it took you and wherever you are in the world!!

Thanks for visiting, gang. I guess I’ll leave you with the song Tom Petty wrote for his daughter, AnnaKim, when she was just a baby and he had to leave her again and go back on the road. And I will  also leave you with the song Nick Cave ostensibly wrote for his son Luke when he was little. Feel free to contrast & compare!! I love you guys. See ya!

My favorite photo of Tom Petty and AnnaKim:

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my favorite photo of Nick Cave with Luke:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers “It’s Alright For Now”

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds “Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry”

Almost Done Being Thankful!!!

Now it is time to be Merry!

I am of course going to wait to decorate the house & the tree until my birth mom gets here (in 2 weeks). (Her name is Cherie, btw, so I guess I can just call her Cherie here, but then I’ll worry that it’s your first time reading the blog and won’t know who Cherie is, and I’ll end up calling her “Cherie, my birth mom”.) Anyway. I do want to at least switch out the autumnal wreaths on the door for the Christmas ones. And put the Christmas bedding on both of the beds.

At least get started on some stuff. Because I’m feeling a little merry this year!

Just so much better than last year — it’s like I’m not even on the same planet. Which is just a really, really good thing, gang.

I’m going to mention here, that my grandfather (Cherie’s dad), named her Cherie after a girl he fell in love with in Paris, when he was stationed there during WWII.  (She used to call him, “chéri“.)

Mind you, he was already betrothed to my grandmother back in the States. So, naming their daughter after the girl he’d fallen in love with in Paris was a big secret for, like, decades. My grandparents did get divorced early on in my mom’s life. But how unfortunate, right? To have a child with a man and have him secretly name your child after a woman he loved more…

When I was adopted, my adoptive parents changed my name to Marilyn. My adoptive mother wanted to name me “Molly,” but my dad won out; he really wanted to name me Marilyn. When I was 11, he confided in me, one Saturday afternoon while I was in the family room watching an old Marilyn Monroe movie on TV — she had been dead for almost 10 years by then, and I had no real understanding yet of who she’d been. Anyway, my dad passed through the family room, saw what I was watching on TV, smiled sort of wistfully and told me, confidentially, “I named you after that woman — but don’t tell your mother.”

So perhaps this is common? Maybe I should take a poll: Did you name your daughter after a woman you loved more than the child’s mother? (There’s an “Add Poll” thingy here on my blog but I don’t know how to use it…) So I guess just think about your answers quietly amongst yourselves.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog are likely aware that my birth mom named me Dory. I don’t know why, or if there was a specific reason. She was 13 when I was born so there was likely some sort of romantic thing in her head. I don’t know. I’m afraid to ask her because I still worry that if I draw too much attention to myself, she’ll remember that she gave me up and ask me to leave her alone. Much like why I’m still afraid to call her on the telephone and only do it if I absolutely have to. (I’m actually really serious about this. Even though she’s been back in my life now for 34 years, I still worry that she will give me up again and that I will lose her.)

But Dory is the name I actually identify with privately in my head — you know, like, spiritually or something. I don’t go by that name at all in real life. However, I don’t relate to the name Marilyn at all. I just don’t and never have. I think it’s a complicated name, and then, once I understood who Marilyn Monroe actually was, culturally, well, that’s just too much to have to identify with — even though I love Marilyn Monroe, plus it wasn’t even her real name. Still. Just way too much going on there.

Image result for marilyn monroe
Do I actually have to say who this is?

So. I’m guessing I digressed…

Mostly, I’m just kind of feeling a little untethered here; not sure what I want to work on today. I’m feeling like I need to make some progress with Thug Luckless — even though I love that character so much, I can’t emphasize enough just what a commitment it is to write about him. It requires 110% of my concentration, and I’m kind of feeling a little Christmas-y here, today. Not sure I can commit to writing several hours’ worth of porn. I guess we’ll see!

I do want to mention here that the horrible wind storm we had here all day Wednesday– even into the wee hours of yesterday morning– the winds were up to 60 mph. Anyway, it was God’s way of ensuring that the super enormous pile of dead leaves that were in my front yard were more evenly distributed among every single solitary house all up & down First Street. And for this dispensation from Heaven, I am profoundly grateful. Even while the high winds also got me some loose siding on my house, it is a small price to pay for not having to rake any of my fucking leaves! They are, essentially, all gone now! Yay.

Okay, gang, I’m gonna scoot. Put up a wreath or two, change the sheets, think about the day before me and what I might want to do with it!

The breakfast-listening music today was once again “Night Raid” from Ghosteen, which I posted here just the other day. (And I gave up trying to figure out what the song means; all I know is that it’s a beautiful song and I love it, and whatever I might decide it means– well, I will be hopelessly wrong. So I’m just listening to it now without trying to figure out what it means.)

So, since I posted the song here the other day,  instead, I’ll leave you with what I was listening to yesterday while eating my dinner! Alone!

“Scare Easy,” by Tom Petty, from the Mudcrutch album in 2008. (It was also in a movie, but I can’t recall now which one.) Anyway, so I leave you with that.  (The video is a live concert of him reunited with Mudcrutch in 2016 — this is not the Heartbreakers, even though it includes Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench. Mudcrutch was their first band together back in Florida in the late 60s-early 70s.)(In fact, Tom Petty’s final studio album was a Mudcrutch album and not a Heartbreakers album, oddly enough. Coming full circle, as it were. My favorite song of his on the final album is “Beautiful Blue,” which, for me, means that this is the final beautiful song he ever wrote. So I’ll post that, here, too.)

Okay! Have a terrific Black Friday wherever you are in America, and have a nice little regular Friday wherever else you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“Scare Easy”

My love’s an ocean, you better not cross it
Yeah, I’ve been the distance and I need some rest
I had somebody once and damn if I lost her
I’ve been running like a man possessed

[Chorus]
I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart when I’m under the gun
You can break my heart and I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy for no one

[Verse 2]
Yeah, I’m a loser at the top of my game
I should’ve known to keep an eye on you
Now I got a sky that ain’t never the same
Yeah, I got a dream that don’t ever come true

[Chorus]
I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart when I’m under the gun
You can break my heart and I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy for no one

[Verse 3]
Sun going down on a canyon wall
I got a soul that ain’t never been blessed
Yeah, and I’m a shadow at the back of the hall
Yeah, I got a sin I ain’t never confessed

[Chorus]
I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart when I’m under the gun
You can break my heart and I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy for no one
I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart when I’m under the gun
You can break my heart and I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy for no one

c – 2008 Tom Petty

I’ve Noticed that Sometimes It Takes Her Forever to Get Her Mind Back

Well, finally. My mind came back.

The rewrites I need to make on Tell My Bones — the direction I need to take and the voices I needed to hear from my characters, are finally arriving.

I’m guessing that by the end of this coming week, I might even have the new version of the play entirely finished.

It is such an incredible relief when the voices you need to hear finally start talking to you. Of course, this means that all the other projects I’m doing will take a back seat for a week or two, but I totally don’t mind. It is just such a relief to finally move past certain difficulties I’ve been having — re: personalities involved in the play — and just concentrate on the PLAY. Make space in my head to allow the revisions to just come.

I’ve blogged here in the past about my singer-songwriter career in NYC, way back in the old days of the 1980s, and how naive I was back then about people’s ability to literally sabotage your whole career. And then how it started to happen again in the early days of my writing career, but at that point, I did what I felt I had to do to ensure that I didn’t get sabotaged again.  I’m not going to go into all of it again here, only enough to say that I’ve been around long enough to know that it’s real. People do try to sabotage you.

You know, even if people aren’t consciously aware that they’re doing it to you, on some emotional level, because of their own insecurity, some people do want to see you fail. It’s up to you, of course, to allow that to happen or not. And because of naivety, I allowed it to happen to my music career, but I’ve never allowed it to happen again. But it’s that feeling of incredible disappointment, when you see it coming at you from someone you had no clue whatsoever there was ever any reason to distrust. However, in these few weeks since I’ve been home from NY, shit happened and continued to happen, so my eyes are open. For sure. Unfortunately.

I guess I really just needed to process that whole thing and find the best way to keep the relationship intact, but move forward with a better understanding of what is really in play, underneath it all.

Peitor’s brief phone conversation with me on Thursday really helped me get back on track and get my head together. (And I guess 3 hours of crying in the dark yesterday morning was the final processing of everything. And I can finally move forward. Allow people to be whoever they need to be, but move forward.)

So here we are.

Well, tickets began going on sale in Europe yesterday for the 2020  Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds tour, supporting their new indescribably staggering album, Ghosteen.

If it weren’t for the fact that I will be up to my eyeballs with stuff for the play in NY by then, as well as overseeing the Writer’s Retreat either in Italy or England, I seriously contemplated the idea of buying a ticket to one of those concerts, just choosing a country I’d never been to before, and going.

But, of course, it is just indescribably impractical. And I feel completely, 100% confident, that they will eventually come to the States and add Crazeysburg to their line-up of venues. (We do have a Little League ball field here, with ample bleachers to hold all 14 of us who live here. So of course it will clearly happen. Patience is key.)

Anyway. Whatever. Who knows what the fuck is going to happen in my life by mid- 2020, right? I should try to just focus on the weekend for now. It is the final weekend of October and I just last night realized that I haven’t set out a single Halloween decoration. I keep thinking, subconsciously, that it’s still September.  Oh well.

I’m gonna close this and get started here. Go down to the kitchen and get another cup of coffee. Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a splendid Saturday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with this parting shot of Tom Petty, early 1990s, drinking a cup of coffee. (He was a Maxwell House drinker to the end — according to his second wife, Dana.) Okay. I love you guys. See ya.

Coffee! Always has been and forever will be the beverage of champions!

Yes! Coffee’s Ready!!!

Yes, I confess!! I am blogging from bed again. My cup of coffee on the night table beside me once more.

A different cup, though. Still autumnal, but this one is really huge.  Requires fewer trips downstairs:

Enormous autumnal coffee cup requires that I leave the bed less!

 

I’m also  blogging in the dark (I only turned on the lamp to better regale you with the photo), plus I’m blogging without my glasses on and hoping for the best!

As much as I love summer and truly hate to see it end (grieve when it ends, is more accurate), I sure do get used to the quiet coziness of fall mornings in a hurry. I cannot emphasize enough how cozy my bed is in the dark, when there’s a little chill in the air.

Kevin is supposed to come by sometime today with his dad to come get his VW camper van from out of my barn.  It’s always so great to see him, if only for a few minutes! He is definitely a wonderfully quirky guy.  Just a delight to know. About 20 years younger than me. Born and raised out here in the Hinterlands.

The first thing he said to me yesterday was, “Are you still giving that guy piano lessons?”

Funny how, when someone is gone for a few months, their perceptions of you remain back in time. Alas, no; I’m not still giving that guy piano lessons. He did finally move to the new house and took his piano out of storage, but he also got a new girlfriend and she moved in with him and he wasn’t making any dedicated time to practice.  So sadly, it was really just wasting my time.

Regardless, though, it was enough time to help me reconnect with myself musically, so that was perhaps the hidden blessing within that whole experience.

But between all the writing projects and trying to learn Italian every day, my intellectual plate is kind of full. If I still had my own piano in the house and could teach here, without having to do all that driving, I would probably be able to be a little more tolerant of people not practicing enough between lessons. Otherwise, to me,  it just feels like a hobby for them, not something serious, and I end up thinking, “Jesus Christ, do you have any clue how busy I am?”

That said… this morning, as I was lying here, doing absolutely nothing besides drinking my coffee, I was reflecting on how incredibly great it feels to do absolutely nothing.  Just lie here. Even while I’m getting excited about Letter #5 of Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse forming on my inner horizon. I’m not sure yet what it’s going to be about; I can only feel a darkness to it and a depth. No words are forming yet. So I’m excited about all these things I’m writing, but it sure feels good to lie in bed for an extra hour or two in the dark and do nothing!!!

There has also been some interesting stuff going on regarding both of my adoptive parents. It has given me food for thought. I don’t actually know if my adoptive mother is still alive; I’m guessing she is.  But I’m also guessing that if she is dying, no one is going to rush to alert me because they wouldn’t want me to pop up and contest her Will. (Yes, I think that highly of all of them…)

Anyway, my adoptive dad has nothing to do with any of them, But I was lamenting this morning that my relationship with him has really begun to deteriorate again. Part of it is me just becoming this total emotional minefield now.  It doesn’t matter if he tries to be nice (in his own nearly unidentifiable way of being “nice”), I make sure to keep moving all the active mines so that he’s gonna step on one of them, no matter what.

I’m just awful. Like I’m not going to give an inch anymore. I’m just one big minefield, loaded with active mines that are constantly shifting around so that he can’t possibly make any headway with me at all right now.  Pretty much everything he tries to say to me is WRONG. I don’t know if I’ll stay like this forever, but it’s definitely who I am with him right now.

Okay, well. On that cheery note!!! Have a great Sunday, wherever you are in the world. It is of course Tom  Petty‘s birthday today.  Have some cake or something, okay?

(From before he even moved to LA — a really long time ago!)

Okay, I love you guys! See ya.

It Seems That Things Are Getting Better!

It is a really glorious October day here today.  I’m feeling a little more centered than I’ve felt in well over a week. Balanced, I guess.

Yesterday’s work with Peitor, over the phone, was really just great. Not only productive, but also it was really so much fun going over the script and all our notes for the script and both of us being kind of amazed by it. Some of it is intense, but on varying levels, all of it is funny.  We hadn’t worked on the script since July, so it was just fun to realize just how much work we had already gotten done on it before life went off in various intense directions.

It was also just great to be working with Peitor again and not feeling so isolated. I love writing, and I usually don’t mind that I have to be alone while doing that. But sometimes I really do feel intensely isolated. So it was great to be creative but have someone to laugh with, too.

And the movie is going to be so fucking cool even though it will only be about 8 minutes long.

Okay.

Well, tomorrow would have been Tom Petty’s 69th birthday so there are memorial concerts all over the country for him this weekend and the proceeds go to his 2 favorite charities in LA — mission charities that help the homeless and homeless children, and maybe homeless addicts, or something like that. I don’t really remember the exact charities. But a lot is going on.

I am doing incredibly good about all this. Only an occasional twinge of sorrow and then only when I think of him from the late 70s & early 80s — sometimes that whole Tom Petty era really still gets to me. The loss of that. His incredibly intense and wonderful youth. But overall, I’m good.

Both of his daughters are in my Instagram feed but I don’t usually pay too much attention to either of their feeds because they are both very intense, outspoken women — both artists and extremely political.  I usually find both of them a little disarming. But for some reason, it feels rude to just unfollow them. But this weekend, one of them posted just some horrific stuff involving animals in peril, it was just awful, so disturbing. So I’m guessing she’s still having some really deep issues about her father’s birthday & his death. (Last year, she was intense, as well, but not in this horrific way.) So very public. All of it. I’m sure that has got to make everything so much harder to process.

But right at this very point in time, I’m coping with all my own issues of loss. I really am. I’m feeling that sense of perspective that’s calmer or perhaps more accepting of things? And not just various deaths, but other issues of loss that I’ve had to confront over the last few (extremely difficult) years, especially revolving around my adoptive mother. All of it is easing up now. It really is.

All right. Well I’m gonna scoot. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with two things. A photo of Tom Petty with his granddaughter shortly before he died:

Tom Petty In LA with his granddaughter, Everly.

And a great song of his off of Damn the Torpedoes, their breakout album from 1978.  This is a live  version from that time period, in London, but Tom sings  his original lyrics to the song. On the album, Jimmy Iovine, the producer, made him get rid of the drug references.

All righty! Enjoy what’s left of Saturday, wherever you are in the world, gang. I love you guys. See ya.