This isn't so much of a resolution as it is just something that I want to do.
I'm not deactivating my Facebook account, nor am I stepping away from social media. However, I am going to use Facebook less. Here's why:
First of all, there are trolls among us. I try to use social media for good things, silly things, positive things...definitely nothing political or derogatory, and I keep a sharp eye on who my "friends" are and what I choose to share. But there are creepers around, as well as people who are just downright stupid, and there is a lot of unnecessary drama on Facebook. Sometimes unintentional drama, but mostly intentional. Other people's drama that I don't allow myself to get drawn into but drama nonetheless.
That's why I un-follow these people or "hide" their posts; I've rarely unfriended anyone, because I don't "friend" people I don't really know in real life to begin with. I weeded out my list years ago and realized I actually DID know the majority of them, from growing up in Mena, to Henderson, to schools I've taught, graduate school, work, etc. I have VERY few friends I've only met via the Internet, and those are ones I've "known" even since the MySpace days, or have communicated with through work or school. So let it be known that this "stepping away" isn't because of any one individual or group of people. Those have already been dismissed.
I hide links and pages I'm not interested in. News channels and radio stations I'll never watch or listen to. People I DON'T know and probably never will. If other people like them, fine. I've just tried to "teach" my newsfeed to show the pages and people I've chosen to follow and that's gotten easier for all of us I think. I review items I'm "tagged" in, and I prefer not to be added to groups; I'll do that on my own.
I'm not really in a band anymore, so I'm not particularly interested in the music "scene", or anything associated with any music "scene" anywhere. I follow the professional bands I like that still perform, and I'm good with just that. There's some of them I've even "un-followed" because, well, they're just doing the same old thing everybody else does: going to work and making a living. Pretty exciting, huh?
The one reason I LIKE Facebook is because most of my family uses it to correspond and keep up with one another. That I do love, because I have a wonderful family, from my parents down to my grandchildren, mother's side, father's side, in-laws side, and I consider myself extremely lucky in this respect. I love the pictures they share and the updates on what they're doing and this brings me great joy because I love them all very much.
In regards to family, I know many people like to stay updated on Gabriel, and we will continue to honor those who keep this special little man in their thoughts and prayers. He's an angel among us, and he's a reminder to us all that even in the face of impossible odds, one can always smile, safe in the knowledge that there are people who love us, seen or unseen.
Secondly, I'm somewhat disheartened by the cruelty of people I don't even know, by their off-hand comments to an opinion or some other post. A company posted an announcement about their after-Christmas sale and someone responded by saying, "You were too crowded before Christmas so I won't be going back." Seriously? Was that really necessary? Another company posted about a discount for a military ring, and one disgruntled customer had to go on about how it was made in China, so she was going to send it back. I can understand her opinion but it just seemed kind of...bitchy. Yet another site, related to a recently-released film, posted a simple "Happy New Year" photo, and someone had to jump in and gripe about how much they hated the movie. Someone replied, "Can't you just say, 'Happy New Year'??"
(I'll discuss current nerd fury in another blog at another time, and I'll apologize for the abundance of Star Wars nonsense that's blowing up your newsfeed. But I've discovered I'm not as bad as some. It will subside. Maybe. The Twitter stuff has been hilarious.)
Opinions are good, debates are good, but people being nasty for the sake of being nasty is just...nasty. Some people feel the need to vent, and that's okay, too...(no pent-up aggression!)...but it's sad to see it played out for all the world to see at times. Do they ever have second thoughts? Do they think about how their words may have hurt someone else's feelings? If you're defending yourself against a verbal attack that's one thing (and those can be pretty brutal as well), but to just lash out and bash someone without provocation? I've seen too much of that lately, and it upsets me.
"Well, just don't read it." True. "Just block that person." Yes, I've done that. I've even blocked people I'm NOT friends with because they were assholes on one of my friend's pages. I realize some people are just big piles of stinky poo, and if there was a good way to keep them off social media, I'm sure we could all find a way.
Anyway, here's the deal: I'm spending more time on Twitter and Instagram. Both of my accounts for these sites are linked to my Facebook, so you'll see the posts (if you're interested), but I'll be hanging out there more. I'm particularly fond of my Goodreads app and Blogger, so those are still linked as well.
I'll still be around, but feel free to follow me in the other places, if you'd like!
"You don't know how fast ten years can go, when you're busy." -Ann Wilson, Radio interview, 1987 January 9, 2015, 8:07 p.m. It's Friday night. Sometime after 8 p.m. And you know where I am? AT HOME!! I've been at home a lot on Friday nights lately, and I really do kinda like that. But there have been many a Friday in the last 10 years when I was not at home: Cue "Wayne's World" Dream Sequence: "doodly doo, doodly do, doodly do..." It's a Tuesday. Or a Thursday, June 2004. I'd been at UAC (then CCCUA) for a year. I was teaching summer school and driving over to Nashville's Electrolux Plant teaching Workplace Spanish to their employees once a week. One daughter was getting ready to start 10th grade, the other 8th grade. (I think...) We had two dogs, several cats, and a turtle. But Mom & Dad were starting a rock-n-roll band. With a hodge-podge of musicians. Members of The Midnight Hurricanes and other bands in the area were involved, along with various other stray players. We started with a lot of Buffett tunes, well-known country, and Fleetwood Mac. We practiced all summer long. Then we got our first gig: The CCCUA Christmas Party at DeQueen Country Club. But three days prior, our drummer's number came up: David Burris had orders for Afghanistan. ARGGGGGHHH!!! I'd had a previous conversation with a really cool guy I worked with about him a being a drummer, so I emailed him with the subject line: Drummer needed ASAP. So with two days notice Tony Hargrove learned our set list, we played the show, and "Big Bang" was born. We called ourselves Ms Mac and the Groovetones. "Ms Mac" because that was what my first students called me when I started my teaching career in McGehee, Arkansas back in 1996. Groovetones, well...that's what we came up with and it just kinda stuck. From there we got the Country Club's New Year's Show. We played a lot at the Caliente Club (where I heard for the first time, "Who does she think she is? Stevie Nicks?" I was okay with that.) We played our first show at Abendigo's in Broken Bow...IN THE RAIN...un-plugged, under the patio. We played a lot of other shows in the rain. Both benefits for former Arkansas Governor Mike Beebe at Barbara Horn's home were rained out, especially the second one. We played two songs and were drenched. I also remember another incident at Abendigo's in the rain involving tequila and mike stands. For eight years, we went on to play every major summer holiday at Abendigo's: Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day. There were some Halloweens and A New Years show in there, too, I believe. And a couple of really ritzy parties out at River Bend Cabins. We've been to all kinds of places and all kinds of festivals. Little Rock for the Peabody Hotel Rooftop Concert Series. AlleyFest in Longview, Texas opening for The Little River Band. El Dorado Music Festival opening for Joan Jett. StarDaze in Star City, Arkansas. Pink Tomato Festival in Warren, Arkansas. Lum & Abner Days in my own hometown of Mena, Arkansas. The list continues: Monroe, Ruston, and Natchitoches, Louisiana. Shreveport's Festival Plaza. Sam's Town and Eldorado Casinos. Fort Smith, Hot Springs, and of course, right here in Texarkana. One of our first Texarkana gigs was at the old Branch Office, where I remember this quip: Dale Qualls: "Marine versus Asshole. My money's on the Marine." Our first Fat Jack's gig was when the stage was still in the back corner and the size of a broom closet. It was the first time I ever saw anyone two-step to "Barracuda." Surreal to say the list. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship with this legendary venue. Jack Mills was a big fan of the Groovetones, and upon his recent passing we will miss him greatly and his support of live music in Texarkana. I guess that is just another sign that it was time for us to move on. A lot of our other supporters are gone as well. Miss Vickie and Big Billy from Boogie's in Hot Springs. Boogie's itself is gone, in fact! It was Bogart's for a while, now it's...something else. The club scene went through tremendous changes in ten years. Hangin' Judge closed down in Fort Smith. Even Neumeier's is for sale now. Caliente burned to the ground. Purple Rain opened, closed, became the Coliseum, then it caught fire. The Duck Horn Taverns in both Killeen and Temple, Texas closed. Player's: closed. Branch Office: closed. Nelly's/The Courtyard/La Fogata: Might soon be closed. Economy, management, who knows what else...were all factors. It's the nature of the beast. But enough about venues. They all come and go for whatever reason. As do musicians, and luckily the majority of those who started with us also ended with us on December 12, 2014. Tony Hargrove: Who has pretty much been laying down the Groove in Groovetone since that email. Tony is one of the finest musicians I have ever known. As a bassist, I'm terribly picky about drummers, and he is the best. Versatile, talented, and an all-around great person. He took a little time off there for a while, but came back to finish out these last 6 years. And not only can he drum, but he can sing and play guitar, too. He can play "Rosanna." (It never got added to the set list but he can still play it.) He can play "Barracuda." He can play anything. I'm honored to play music with him and work with him every day at UAC. And ladies...he's single!! ;) Kirt Connor: Again, one of the most talented guys in the area. We finally brought "Drum" to the live crowd last December, complete with the Bono Moment. "Sausage Biscuit" can still rock it. It was glad to have him back for grand finale, as it was to have him along from the beginning. Don't forget, though, Kirt: YOU'RE A LIGHTBULB!!! Ted Stone: Who has been our "fill-in" lead player for 7 years. Having Deacon Dark himself gave us a whole new Groove back in 2007. And he really was able to trim down "Voodoo Child" to four minutes versus the usual 1/2 hour. He introduced us to "LITTLE CHOCOLATE DONUTS!!!" and "Hoogie-Boogie Land," and helped us to play "our music, from our heart." (Inside jokes, folks...) Every band needs a guitar player who can play better with his tongue than his fingers. I'm sure Don will miss our post-gig, in-depth pop culture proselytizing on long road trips in the middle of the night. I suggested that after the show on December 12, we all needed to hop in to "Clifford the Big Red Truck" and drive around Miller County for two hours just so we could get in one last discussion of "Spinal Tap," "Wayne's World," and Strong Bad Email. Don said no. Glenn "SmittyG" Smith: To the man I told to shut up in a rather scathing email about 8 years ago (*BIG evil laughter here*). His first weekend as a Groovtone can best be described as trial by fire. When my arm decided to detach itself from my body via a bad shoulder while unplugging a laptop, I sent him a chartbook and a set list and said, "Learn these by Friday." (That was on a Thursday.) We had FIVE (?) shows that weekend. Friday night at Jack's; Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at Abendigo's for Labor Day Weekend. But we knew he was the only bass player in town who could handle it. And knowing I'd be out of playing commission for the following 6 months after surgery, we managed not to scare him away. And even after I was cleared to play again by a rather patient physical therapist, we decided to keep him. Now I'm not sure if he'll ever go away...LOL!!!...which is not a bad thing, of course. Glenn has been a great asset to the band, and it freed me up to do some other stuff. We didn't ever give him that opportunity to do a "full-out, jazz exploration in front of a festival crowd...", but that day is coming, I'm sure! These four. Some of the best musicians. EVER. And I've played with some local legends (Earl Hesse, Don Colquitt, Big Al Wimberly, etc.) and the last remaining Groovetones rank right up there. Feel privileged to have heard them play. They are superb, not only as musicians, but as people. They are welcome on my stage and in my home any day of the week and twice on Sunday. I will miss our musical time together as well as our social time. They are my friends, they are my family. If I ever want to do this again, they will be the first people I call. So many others have passed in and out of this group, so I can't forget to name our honorary Groovetones. I'll start with drummers: Sam Cavitt. All THREE members of Deacon Dark were Groovetones. Sam was with us until he became a Daddy. I even remember Shelly's first visits to gigs. Good times!! It was so good to have you, Sam! Kim Kirtley. NOTE: This was the first time we had another girl in the band, and she was one of the most bad-ass drummers ever. She played with a bad knee that had to be iced down between sets and still rocked it. And she wasn't even rattled with someone yelling, "BITCH!!!!!" at the top of their lungs at her. (That would be the Meredith Brooks song, by the way.) Hampton Taliaferro. New Year's Gigs at the Duck Horn Taverns over an entire weekend. Not just a man but an experience. It's hard to imagine the Denny's Dynamic without him. Paul (Baumgartner) Summers. Paul was with us for a couple of shows in Hot Springs and Pine Bluff. Thanks for helping us out then. And for the round rug. We still use it! And...to the one guy who came to two rehearsals and brought beer, but not enough to share. And that's when we called Tony back. On to Guitar Players: Dale Qualls. Who shreds like a mutha and is a cool, cool, COOL guy. That first rainy Abendigo's gig was fun, wasn't it? He also coined the phrase: "I'm a Groovetone, Bitch!!" The one, tall, dark-headed guy who played the New Year's Country Club with us. What was his name? What happened to him?? Excellent player. Leger Brantley. The only other band member that I think was shorter than me. I recall chaperoning the porch parties... Pete Jones. To have him play for the Veterans' Day show at Whiskey River was an honor. Thanks for keeping us in strings, picks, and guitars all this time! Bobby Doherty of Alizé, who joined us at the Courtyard and the Concert Series at the Peabody. Another cool guy and awesome player. We wish you well out there on the farm! There was also Brian Atlas (guitar) and Micah Nazario (keyboards) who helped us out there for a while. Thank you, gentleman, for being a part. Also to Honorary Groovetone Chip Bricker: You are the man!! Nuf sed. And last but not least, Allen McEneaney. Nothing like having a real Irishman in the band. I knew from the story he told us at that very first rehearsal he came to that it was definitely going to be interesting. We added Allen not only as another guitarist (sprinkles!!!) but as a second bass player so I could play keyboards. We had a fourth harmony and some new songs to learn. He introduced me to Rock Sugar. His parents visited the States and they are wonderful, wonderful people. We watched them become grandparents twice. While Don and I became grandparents 3 more times after that. (Can you believe SEVEN of our ELEVEN grandchildren were born during the duration of this band??) Grandma Rocks. Yeah, I guess that is so. That's why some of those eleven always ask: "Do we get to go to the band?" Four of them got to see the last show at the Sullivan Center and for those two little girls I commandeered my one and only Disney Princess moment. Every retiring diva needs one, I suppose. Final thoughts before Ms Mac leaves the building: None of this would have been possible if not for one person. He knows who he is. He had a vision: Let's play rock and roll when everybody else plays country. Dust off your bass, clear out your pipes, and put on your 4-inch heels. I'll make you a star! And I suppose that's true. I became Ms Mac. A persona, like Cher. Sort of. Some people don't even know my real name. Some didn't even recognize me out of character. A really drunk guy once told me, "You should hear her sing! She's really good." My response: "I'll be sure to check that out." It was my biggest dream, and Don Riddle made it come true. I got to play bass and sing in front of people again, something I hadn't done since my early 20s. I got to wear leather and sing "Barracuda" a lot. But not without Don making it all happen. He took care of sound, he took care of bookings, he took care of rhythm guitar and vocals. He was Nancy (Wilson) to my Ann (Wilson) on top of everything else. He drove Clifford all over the Four States Region and Beyond, hauling gear, instruments, bandmates, and my wardrobe. He dealt with payments and promotion and club owners and....other people. He did all the managing and talking while I was just "so into the music." Yeah, right. My "mystique" is due to being painfully shy, and Don is not, so having him man the frontlines was a blessing. For all of us. No one else has his expertise and he always knows exactly what to do. He made us all look and sound great and never once brought any attention to himself. "I'm the guy with the trailer," he says. WHATEVER!!! No one else could do what he does and THAT'S why this band was great. I only played one show without him for the entire 10 years. And thankfully, I never had to do it again, but I just can't make it happen the same way. In the end, he always took care of ME. Bands come and go, on every level, so not many go on for 10 years and eventually go out on top. Especially a regional group. That takes leadership and expertise and a bunch of stuff only Don Riddle knows. I was clueless. I memorized the words to over 100 songs but I always knew who the real star of the show was. So, the biggest thanks of all goes to Don Riddle-for making me a "big" fish in a little pond. Letting me experience what I'd always dreamed of. It may not have been Madison Square Garden but if we added up the amount of people we've performed in front of in the last ten years that might equal the same seating capacity. I was in the newspaper, I was on TV, I was on the radio, I was on the Internet. I made "albums." I made a video. It's all good. I had these moments, thanks to Don. I can cross "Be a Rock Star" off my bucket list. You made us all rock stars. Now we can start dating again! :) Did I mention he and I were married? Have been for 18 years, long before this band existed. Both of us had years of playing experience before that. I wasn't just a "chick" in the band who happened to be married to a guy in a band. We'd played in bands in every town we lived in before we came back to Arkansas in 2003. The Groovetones was the icing on that cake. People are asking us, "Why?" Well, see previous sentence. It came to us over a weekend on Petit Jean Mountain. Don and I took a picture of the two of us together because there aren't a lot of pictures of the two of us together...and we noticed how "old" we looked. I wasn't wearing a lick of makeup, which didn't help. Then I realized that for the last ten years the only pictures of the two of us together were those people took of us onstage. Under cool lighting, wearing cool clothes, and doing cool stuff like playing music. I was usually wearing a wig and a lot of eyeliner. So we looked slightly different in natural light. But that moment, walking through the forest to see a beautiful waterfall on a Saturday afternoon is one reason why we "retired." Spending a day loading equipment and sound checking and performing does not allow for walks in the woods. Or time with grandchildren and family. Or time to do other things one enjoys that doesn't involve so much "work." People don't realize how much "work" music really is. They see the final product: the two to four hour show that goes on while everybody else drinks and parties and dances and has a good time. They don't see the long weekly rehearsals and the listening and charting and practice and promoting and phone calls and traveling and loading and unloading and repairing and maintaining and on and on and on... As much as we love to play, we do have regular jobs and families and hobbies and other interests. And it's time to enjoy those things, too. In fact, the Groovetones will most likely even enjoy these things together, because we ARE family. We shared births, deaths, marriages, divorces, graduations, birthdays, etc. I will miss the social time, inside jokes, good meals, and general hanging out, but that probably won't go away. I've got a big house with a front porch and a courtyard. Everyone can still come over and we'll take guitars off the wall and play music for fun just like always. CODA: Endings are always bittersweet, but there are still good times to come. Take care, my brothers: Tony, Glenn, Ted, Kirt...you're only a Facebook post away. When I finally decide to establish Cheez N Sleez, be ready. To Don, here's to more time for just you and me. And that's OUR business. And to those who supported us: Thank you for coming out and being a part of our shows. We were always glad to be of service! :) And perhaps you'll see us again around Christmas when it's Toys for Tots time again. I'll leave my last goodbye to Stevie: Well I've been afraid of changing Cause I built my life around you But times make you bolder even children get older And I'm getting older too Took my love, took it down Climbed a mountain and I turned around And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills Well a Landslide'll bring it down Well a Landslide'll bring it down
Everyone knows I had shoulder surgery in January. And my recovery was relatively quick and painless. I say that tongue-in-cheek, of course, but I must be tougher than I look. Once I was able to really move my arm again, it really wasn't so bad. Physical therapy has helped tremendously.
I didn't get up and play again until our first show of 2012 on February 10 at Fat Jack's (A month to the day of my surgery). I was told I needed to play sitting down. (I didn't.) I think I only played "Barracuda", using the short-scale Jaguar. That's when I noticed a difference.
It wasn't the shoulder that seemed odd, it was how I hold my left hand. It didn't want to "turn over" like it should to hold the fretboard. It didn't hurt, it was just "different." All I could think was, "Gee, that's really weird."
I'm gonna have to re-learn how to do this. Something I've done for 27 years.
I got kinda busy and didn't take the time to practice during the weeks that followed. I only played at shows (and there are plenty of those!!), just "'Cuda" and "My Sharona," letting SmittyG do the rest. (And he's done a FANTASTIC job of that, by the way!) But this last week I had to take the Jaguar to Larry Hargrove, Guitar Tech Guru & Tony's Dad, to have it re-adjusted, and decided to bring the Warlock to the Hut and get back in the groove. My shoulder has gotten so much better I thought I'd try working with a full-scale neck again, at least for a little while.
Again, I can tell there's a difference. My shoulder's external rotation, before surgery, actually extended farther than it was supposed to, and I was able to get away with that for years. Now that it's been repaired and can only go so far, I can see how the repeated motion of bass playing eventually caused the damage it did. This is especially true for me, being a woman with short arms playing a big guitar. (God knows what would have happened had I learned to play stand-up! But I made a rule years ago that I would never play an instrument taller than me.) There's a different "feel" mainly in my wrist and forearm, and tightness in my hand, which I think is primarily just age and not having played much since the last dislocation back on the first of September.
Anyway, I played through the entire set list this week and felt the adjustments I've had to make, then concentrated on the songs I'm still playing. I'm pretty sure I can still do this(ha ha). About 2 weeks ago, at the La Fogata show, I realized how much I actually missed playing. Although being able to just concentrate on singing has been a blast because I get to sling my hair around and be all...rock diva-ish. And again, Smitty has been great. He's a great addition to the band and a phenomenal bassist. He's welcome to stay with us as long as he wants, and I think he's having a blast.
So, with all this in mind, we'll be back at Fat Jack's tonight, Friday the 13th, and in top form. The Jaguar is still "in the shop", so I'm gonna pull out the Warlock tonight and see how it goes, since I've never played it at a show. Let's ROCK AND ROLL!!! :)
I really don't have time for this, because of that REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY important thing I have to do, but because some jerkwad upset people who are close to me, I must take a moment to vent.
I posted yesterday that I was thankful for my band and that the guys who are in it are the best musicians in town. If I want to say that because I believe it, I have every right to do so. It was also a "thank you" to all of them for taking time to get up early on a Sunday(during a time change at that), get dressed up, and meet with the professional photographer who came down from Conway to take photos for the Arkansas Bands Calendar we won a spot in. Tony even drove down from DeQueen. THIS is one reason why they are the best-they showed up, looked great, and we got some great new promotional shots that will be great for posters and other adverising. They are super-professional and we had a great time. I posted this "Thankful today for" update on my own site, and it was in appreciation for some really good people and all that they do.
The post led to some funny comments about which one of our guitar players was the best in town. Fun among band members, which is how it is with us. We're not in competition with each other. We all have strengths, great strengths, and that's how we operate. That's why this band has been playing for eight years.
Then someone has the gall to pop in to the conversation and start trouble. This person eventually slammed ALL of my guitar players. This person was not invited into the conversation and nothing we said was directed at this person to begin with. Individual X just wanted to cause problems, so I deleted the comments. X is now blocked and will stay blocked, because X continued to cause problems afterward on other Facebook pages. I don't even know X, in person or otherwise, so it's really no big loss.
What I say on my site is my business, and what I posted wasn't negative anyway. I don't seek out people and write derogatory comments on their sites. Anyone should say they have the best band, company, workgroup, school, whatever, because that's how that works. School kids don't show up at their own football games yelling, "We suck!! We're going to lose!!" Even if they're having a losing season, they're still going to yell, "Go team!"
Well...duh...
My guys are the best because they just ARE. They're not just excellent musicians, they're hardworking, normal, good people. They don't drink to excess, do drugs, get into fights, or get in trouble with the law. They wouldn't be in this band if they did, regardless of talent. They are welcome into my home and around my children and grandchildren anytime. They take time to come to rehearsals and help out with load-ins when they can. They are consistent, professional players and are on the same level as any of the college-educated musicians I've played with over the years. They're not poseurs or "misunderstood artists." They've all had prior experience in the business and know what it takes to make a successful band. It's about WORK and PRACTICE. The rest is just "Sprinkles." To keep enjoying "sprinkles," you have to BE REALLY GOOD, so people will continue to hire you.
(Notice I say "HIRE YOU?" Not "Allow musicians to grace people with their presence." I think only Prince can do that.)
NOBODY has the right to slam my band just because they're sitting around bored on a Sunday night with nothing to do but think that everything posted on Facebook has something to do with them personally. NO ONE has to right to upset a band member when that member is MY HUSBAND. That calls for a personal punch in the mouth, given the opportunity, especially if they've done it before then come crawling back with some half-hearted apology. Don's had a phenomenal career in the music industry, and continues to have one. And he created this band not just so he could still play but he did it FOR ME, because he wanted me to experience MY DREAM. And that couldn't happen without Ted, Tony, Allan, Smitty, and all the other fine players who've been Groovetones. My post was in honor of all of them, and had nothing to do with anyone else.
Also, it's not a good idea to cause trouble on someone's wife's site when she wasn't creating an issue in the first place. A husband SHOULD be upset by that, and be completely justified in his reaction, whether they're in a band together or not.
So, that being said, I'm going to enjoy the rest of my caffeine-free Coke, take a reading break, eat my supper, put in some time on the elliptical machine, and then get back to work on that REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY important thing that I have to do!!
Right in the middle of the intersection of E. 24th and Pecan Streets, I saw a dog lying in the road. At first, I thought it was dead, but then it lifted it head.
Both I and a man who looked incredibly like opera singer Paul Potts, got out of our cars and went to help. Another man came out of the house on the corner carrying a blanket. Both men went out into the street to the dog, but they were afraid to move it because they didn't know if the dog would bite them or not. It looked like the dog probably had a broken hip. He seemed harmless to me, like he was glad someone was there to help, but of course, you never know. Of course, most of those driving by didn't even have the courtesy to slow down.
The men assured me animal control was on its way, and I got back in and turned around to drive up to the next block. Then I had to pull myself together before I went in to get coffee. I was happy to know though, that those two men were there to help the dog.
So, Little Beagle Dog, I hope you'll be okay, knowing that there were some really good humans around this morning.
I couldn't just post one song for this day on the Music Challenge. Because the day I was married is still very special to me, and I know good, beautiful music when I hear it, I had to go the extra mile for this one.
Weddings(after the 19th century) are expected to follow particular musical traditions(Bach, Pachelbel, Mendelssohn, la, la, la) but I didn't want traditional music, even as a serious music student. Sometimes I just have to be different, mainly just for the sake of being different.
Also, my wedding day needed to say something about me personally(all brides think this, of course) and in some ways maybe my musical wedding statement was to indicate that I'd found someone who really accepts me for ME, and all the oddball weirdness that comes with me.
(Why else would a man allow some of these choices? You'll understand why soon.)
I chose some of these "tunes" LONG before I finally tied the knot at the ripe old age of 27. And to be able to include them in our ceremony, which in itself was VERY traditional, was the purple rosebud icing on the proverbial chocolate (with white icing) wedding cake.
People I'm sure found it odd that I chose music from the films I've loved all my life, and that said films are mostly sci-fi/fantasy in nature. This wasn't any big shock to anyone who knew me, and for those who didn't know the films probably didn't notice anything unusual except that the music was really pretty good.
One thing I DIDN'T want (and my groom was in agreement) was some singer warbling a love song that really isn't a love song. "I Will Always Love You" is NOT a happy love song. Neither is "Every Breath You Take." I didn't want "Color My World" or "The Wedding Song(There is Love)." Both overplayed and not really me. Or Don for that matter. He was also not allowed to sing "Mind Your Own Business," which he actually DID sing at his "best friend's wedding." You can imagine how that particular union fared.
My particular union began as such:
The first appearance of Star Wars Music. From Episode V, The Empire Strikes Back. This is still, for me, since age 11, the ultimate love story. It started in a rather interesting manner, in a trash compactor, and ended quite happily, as REAL love stories should. None of this silly "you-accidentally-poison-me-and-I'll-stab-myself nonsense." Romeo & Juliet? Bite me. Captain Solo and Leia Organa had it going on. They saved the galaxy and she ended up not marrying her brother. Thank the Force for that.
Loved this song for years. It came out in 1980, the same year as The Empire Strikes Back. It has a beautiful haunting melody and the lyrical content is perfect. It seemed so much more REAL than the slick sappiness of "Endless Love" and the schmaltzy cheesiness of Styx' "Babe." I watched this video for the first time this last Friday, and it still moved me. Thank God I had a box of Kleenex on my desk.
These previous tunes, for the actual ceremony, were played on piano, by my 7th grade teacher/high school librarian Kay Mannon, and she did an awesome job, as always!
This is one of the minor cult classics that Matthew Broderick starred in AFTER WarGames but BEFORE Ferris Buelller's Day Off. I remember seeing it in the Silver Screen Theater in Mena, accompanied by my entourage at the time, including Rob Sanders, Wes Sunderman, Janna Liles, and Christine Cooper. (At least I'm pretty sure it was you guys, if not, well-you were there in spirit!) I love the movie-it makes Rutger Hauer so much more tolerable than he was in Blade Runner. I'd always wanted the soundtrack, so when I came across a rare copy of one at a mini-sci-fi convention in Dallas, I snatched it right up, despite the $35.00 price tag. I NEVER pay that much for CDs, ever, especially then when I was "between jobs."
I thought it would make awesome entrance music. Everyone would come in during the faster part, and then when it slows down(at 5:40), I'd come down the aisle. Well, I didn't get that (see below), but that was okay. It actually provided the perfect amount of time for Tiffany to light all the 40 some-odd candles on the candelabras. Once the last candle was lit, the tape faded out.
For the seating of grandmothers and mothers, I choose the main theme for yet another cult classic from 1980, Somewhere in Time. This film has a fan club called INSITE, International Network of Somewhere in Time Enthusiasts. (Wow. And we thought SETI was bad.) However, it's a great love story. Composer John Barry, who just recently passed away this last January, based the score on Rachmaninoff's "Rhapsody on a Theme By Paganini." If you've never seen it, you should. This was right after Christopher Reeve had done his first gig as Superman, and featured a Pre-"Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" Jane Seymour, who doesn't appear to have aged as I watch her Kay Jewelers commercials. I used to sit and play this on the piano a lot myself, when the sheet music turned up at the house one day. I think my mom had picked up a copy somewhere.
Even though my groom is an avid sci-fi fan too, he is still very traditional at heart and nixed the Ladyhawke entrance plan. He insisted on the traditional wedding march, and I gladly conceded. Somewhat. It's okay though, because I am a Wagner fan, and almost everything John Williams does is borrowed from Wagner anyway!
I know this is the brother/sister theme from Episode IV, Return of the Jedi, but this is some of the best music of the entire saga. This played for the lighting of the unity candle, and the reading of the poem below:
Beauty and the Beast was a cool show and I tried never to miss an episode. They cashed in on the whole "Jon Bon Jovi in a tux" look for Vincent, the Beast, and it was probably the only time Ron Perlman was ever thought of as a sex symbol. I love the poem-listen and you'll understand why.
This comes from a little known album that combined music from the show with poetry reading by the sensitive and misunderstood 'manimal' who lived in the New York sewer system. Who knew Hellboy could be so romantic?
I was the one who read the poem, right after we lit the candle. I think it's still in a box in the laundry room. Unfortunately, the glass holder it was in that day, a wedding gift, broke during our last move.
Incidentally, music from both the TV show and the Disney animated version of Beauty and the Beast were played as prelude music. I think I also included Stevie Nicks' song of the same title. I could be wrong-I can't find the music book I made up for that day, just the list of instructions:
I ALWAYS wanted to march back up the aisle to this. It uses the "Force" theme, as well as its own "Throne Room" theme. Our heroes receive their medals for destroying the Death Star and I get to leave the church with my own Han Solo. Pretty cool stuff if you ask me. It may have seemed unusual to some, but it was cool to hear it come up on the speakers at the end of what Reverend Crooks called "The Dog & Pony Show." (Jokingly, of course-this was NOT a complicated wedding by any means.)
All I did that day was get my hair done, was dropped off at the church, and sat in a Sunday School room just off the sanctuary all by myself for the better part of the morning. If there was a real dog & pony show, I must have missed it. It couldn't have been too much of one-we had to fly through the reception so we could run off to catch our plane to San Francisco.
We also didn't have a Star Wars-Themed wedding where we dressed up as characters and recited Jedi-enhanced vows. Even for me, that's a bit much. We did though, have an interesting set-up for the groom's cake:
When it came time to cut it, Don pulled a toy light saber out of his pocket. He'd carried it through the entire ceremony and I didn't even know.
Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed my contribution to Day 4 of the Music Challenge. That was a great day and I still love my groom, almost 14 years later. The Force has definitely been with us! :)
Before I was transformed into Rock Greatness, I was a normal dork just like everyone else. Being a dork, was, and still is, perfectly fine with me. And because so many people that I've found online experienced most of those days with me, I thought I'd take us all on a walk down memory lane.
One of the coolest technological devices I've ever owned is the tape recorder. Some of you are too young to know what that is. And I was going to post some photos of the different recording devices I've had in my possession for most of my life. I discovered, however, upon a visit to my parent's home, that all of them are gone, with the exception of this gem, that we had when I was around 7 or so:
Somewhere, there's a tape of me, some time around 1976 or so, playing "school" in my room. Occasionally, my sister would pop in and instruct me to clean it up. That recording was made using this machine.
The recording devices I currently own are these:
This particular average-size tape recorder was a "gift," of sorts. My friend Jennifer used to get an exorbitant amount of financial aid money to help pay for her college textbooks, so she bought this for me with some of the leftover cash. So I guess it's really hers. It records nothing but static and the rollers won't turn.
This mini-cassette recorder was purchased at Wal-Mart back in the late nineties. I lost it, then it was discovered buried in the recesses of our old Dodge conversion van, when some friends of ours had borrowed the vehicle for a family trip. It never has worked very well.
This "boom-box," or whatever you want to call it, officially died this last September. It was purchased at Radio Shack, Christmas 1999, for use in the Los Alamos Christmas parade. It hung in there for 11 years.
The only one that works, of course, is the digital recorder, which I bought...two years ago? Gee, where does the time go?
And here's a cassette tape, the original KWAR master:
You can still buy them-usually at super discount stores like Fred's. Some can hold up to an entire 120 minutes of music. Wow. Those always cost more, like $5.00 a pop. As a teenager, I started with the 60 minute tapes, which came three to package, no cover, no case, then I graduated up to 90 minutes, when I wanted better quality, and a cover and a case. And, if you got tired of what was on the tape, you could record over it with new stuff. I did that a lot, and sometimes recorded over stuff I didn't mean to, important events like my first band's stellar performance of Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" one time at HSU Band Camp, 1991. (Or at least I think that's the year.) After the evolution of the compact disk, I'm down to a couple of boxes of these little things.
I used to have over 300.
And this...is an 8-track tape:
Which is a whole other animal entirely.
This is the way we old people used to purchase music. It's also how we use to "file-share." We'd borrow albums(both on cassette and vinyl LPs) and make copies on tape. And we'd tape stuff direct from the radio.
Is it possible to still do that? I guess it doesn't matter anymore. We bootlegged stuff all the time and the ASCAP Police never showed up at the door demanding to confiscate our scratchy, warped copy of Thriller.
One method I'm currently using to stay OFF the computer is to transfer some of my old, rare albums on cassette to .mp3 using a program I've had since about 2005. Why to stay OFF the computer? Well, if I'm working on something else when I'm recording audio, it doesn't just record the album but also every click, bonk, pop that occurs when surfing the web or screwing up a Word document. So, while I'm taking a break, I'm reliving some odd memories. I can now listen to Jean Beauvoir's Drums Along the Mohawk without having to pay the hefty $69.99 price for a used copy of the CD.
(You ask: "Who the hell is Jean Beauvoir??" Staunch rock fans know him as the former guitarist for the Plasmatics and a "behind-the-scenes" guy for Kiss, John Waite, and the Ramones. I first saw him in a video for the song "Feel the Heat" which was featured in Sylvester Stallone's film Cobra. I thought he was one of the coolest looking people I ever saw, with his dark skin, green eyes, and blond mohawk. That was just killer. And my husband is now shaking his head, wondering how in the world he married someone whose head is filled with such useless information.)
Anyway, after loading up a little known album called "Squeeze" by the singer Fiona, and the somewhat worthless soundtrack to a film she starred in called Hearts of Fire, I decided to sift through some of these moldy oldies and look for songs that I MIGHT possibly be able to find online to download, some of those I originally "stole" from the radio. I found some real winners. I'd forgotten all about Thomas Dolby's "She Blinded Me with Science." And Jeffrey Osbourne's "On the Wings of Love," which has to be on somebody's list of "all-time fantastic wedding songs."
But I came across something else: Some of my own "broadcasts" right from my parents' home on Gary Drive, using an old LP player/cassette recorder console that has been relegated to the landfill of old recording equipment. Somehow we figured out that you could plug an old tape recorder microphone into the headphone jack and voila! We're on the air! Not really, but it was nice to pretend. We also didn't realize that even though we were playing LPs and 45s, the microphone was still picking up every noise in the room, so there's all this jabber over our barrage of greatest hits of 1984. We were freshmen in high school at that time, but some things are still pretty damn funny twenty some odd years later.
And now I can convert that afternoon to digital also! And share it with the world!
Our station was KWAR, in Grand Garbage, Arkansas. RM (Rob Sanders, PLEASE don't kill me!) and Toxic...Something or other. (I can't remember the second half of my DJ alter ego. Oh wait! Maniac. Toxic Maniac. I don't have the slightest idea how I came up with that).
Anyway, we are spinning the greatest songs of all-time long before they were the greatest hits of all-time. There's even an "Avid Listener" in the studio(Janna Liles, who really wasn't into talking on the air). There's news (Russians invading) and refreshments (Caffeine-free Coke in its first incarnation). There's an interview (that has been mysteriously omitted) with someone named "Wolfgang the Wolfman." Whoever the hell he was. We provide an impromptu review of the new action film, Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom. We have a guest appearance by Yogurt, who is a sloppy version of Yoda. (And this was LONG before "Spaceballs" came out. Weird, huh?)
DISCLAIMER: You may need to make various volume adjustments throughout the podcast. Some of it is loud, some is not...It's a 26-year-old recording, after all.)
The tape kicks off with me, announcing that KWAR is officially on the air, followed by RM's rather explosive self-produced explosion, that almost clipped my input source. Then Wham's "Careless Whisper" comes on, straight off REAL radio station B98, out of Little Rock. Then, KWAR takes over again.
I'll spare you the endless chatter over our playlist, which included:
1. Total Eclipse of the Heart-Bonnie Tyler
2. Flashdance(What a Feeling)-Irene Cara
(Yes-these photos of LPs and 45s are the ACTUAL records used on the KWAR broadcast. Go figure.)
We open the phone lines here-and the phone actually does ring. You can even hear it. Bizarre. It's actually RM's mom calling looking for him.
3. Let's Hear It For the Boy-Deniece Williams (I'm out of breath on my intro. It was hard to carry all those 45s around.)
4. Open Arms-Journey (who DIDN'T know this song???) After this is where that Wolfgang interview just "ends." ????
5. Truly-Lionel Richie (and you can hear my ridiculous South Arkansas accent in certain vowels. Eek.)
6. Down Under-Men at Work (RM seems really upset that this band didn't seem to have any more hits after this one. Must have been that vegamite sandwich. There's also a lot of Caffeine-free Coke can-popping as background percussion to accent the flute solo.)
There's a break for news here, complete with the "deet-deet-deet-deet" sound. We mention the Olympics. Wasn't that in Los Angeles that year? There's an announcement to kill E.T., and a plug for Liberace in concert playing "Oh, Sherrie." After this is the death of Yogurt. (Turn down your speakers-It's rather unpleasant. It's one of those "Is it live, or is it Memorex?" moments. Some of you understand what I mean.) I don't know what the point of this was, but it seemed entertaining at the time. This also signals the end of Side 1.
(Cassettes have "sides". You turn them over and get to hear more stuff. It took some work and interrupted our listening pleasure, but we were happy. Then they started making tape decks that had Auto-Reverse and it "turned it over" for you. I don't think I ever had one of those. I did, however, have a dual cassette boom box that would automatically transfer from one deck to the other. That was pretty cool.)
Side 2 consists of some stolen radio songs, some of which never even made it to the "one-hit wonder" stage, like Dan Hartman's "We Are the Young" and Supertramp's "Sleeping With the Enemy," which I think lasts about 20 minutes. This was surely the one and only time these tunes were ever played on the air, anywhere. I forget the station, but I think it was still B98. And in Mena, the only time you could pick up this station was at about 2 in the morning.
Following Supertramp is Duran Duran's "Wild Boys,"(I have a story about this song, but I'll save that.), then Chicago's "You're the Inspiration." General Hospital fans will appreciate "You're All I Need" by Jack "Frisco Jones" Wagner. This song turns up on Side 2 twice, but I don't remember being just bowled over by the tune to record it twice even then. That'll just have to be another mystery. Early hair metal power ballad "Call to the Heart" by Guiffria is next.
(NOTE: We DID NOT call it "hair metal" in 1984. That derogatory moniker came much later. We just called it ROCK. I prefer to still call it that, but no one knows what that means anymore.)
We conclude the bootlegs with Jack Wagner's second appearance. (Why? Why, why, oh why???) Then we're tuned back into KWAR, with Moon Unit Zappa's "Valley Girl," which cuts out after about 30 seconds.
And we must have figured out how to turn the mike off, because there's no more background noise. Either that, or we finally got tired of talking, which I doubt, because we NEVER ran out of things to talk about. At least we were TALKING, and not TEXTING.
Here's what REALLY alarming, though: There are times when I can't tell the difference between Rob's voice and mine. And I still remember EVERY WORD of all these songs. Even the off-the-wall ones.
(You know, why can't I write like this when I HAVE to? Do you think they'd let me do my dissertation on the effect of obscure 80s songs on a Siamese cat? Ted the Cat lost interest hours ago and went to bed without me.)
I don't know what the equivalent of this type of mayhem among adolescents now would be. I do notice there are a lot of people who have their own vodcasts and podcasts, which is pretty much the same thing but EVERYBODY who has an Internet connection can see it and hear it. Our only audience was ourselves, because our parents were all at work.
I don't know if it would have been cool or not to have a real broadcast, if we'd had this kind of technology in '84. Maybe. It's hard to say. We wouldn't have had Lars Ulrich hunting us down for his 2 cents per song, that's for dang sure. I don't know if Lionel Richie would have been that upset or not.
BUT NOW!!!! We can ALL tune in to KWAR, just for a moment! And excuse me while I go grab a Caffeine Coke and some Pop Rocks.
"Won't you take me back to school?
I need to learn the golden rule..."
The Voice, The Moody Blues
It may sound odd as a teacher to say that I love back-to-school time, but in a lot of ways, it's like being a kid again.
(It's especially better now because I don't have to go back early for band practice anymore. I'll get back to that.)
I loved back-to-school time, mainly because of school supplies. There's nothing cooler than opening a brand new spiral notebook with a really cool picture on the cover. Even one that DOESN'T have a cool picture on the cover. New pencils and pens in all different colors. (Purple especially. I have a lot of old notebooks that bleed purple ink.) Folders and binders and calendars. And then they started making paper clips and binder clips in different colors. Wow. Glue and scissors and pencil boxes and crayons. Oh yeah-that new box of crayons. All 64 colors. Isn't there one now that has 108? I think we were gypped-kids have all kinds of cool stuff now.
I couldn't wait to buy all my stuff for the new school year. Even in high school. And college was fun, too. I didn't even mind buying books. I do NOW, but I wasn't paying for them in my undergrad years. (Thanks, Mom & Dad!) Selling them back was quite beneficial. I think I bought lawn furniture one summer.
Nowadays, we have big superstores FULL of school supplies. A far cry from the little stationery stores that reeked of ink. Staples has become my favorite. Not only because they have all that cool paper stuff, but they have cool gadgets, too. Technology hasn't taken too much fun out of the pen and paper racket. It's like a bonus.
One of the cool things about being a teacher is that I can get school supplies for free. (Sort of.) I go to the supply closet...and shop. I first experienced this when I worked as a file clerk in Little Rock and got to dig around in the supply room. Then when I started teaching in McGehee, they gave us a whole box of stuff at the first of each year. In Los Alamos, the foreign language department had its own supply closet, and it happened to be at the back of my classroom the second year I was there. In Sanford, everything was in the high school secretary's office. At CCCUA they give us a bag full of overstock stuff. I have A LOT of paper clips now. And correction tape. Does anybody still use that?
Now to the social aspect of back-to-school. You have to determine your LOOK for the first day. I still do this, even though I may not see a SOUL on my first day back, since in-service seems to fall on the SECOND day now. It's still very important though, because it's your first appearance since last May and everyone wants to see how you've changed over the summer. Did somebody cut their hair? Grow it out? Color it? Did they eat too much or do they look anorexic? Did they get too much sun or not enough? (I would fall under the "not enough" category. But as I age, that's not a bad thing.)
Regarding hair, I was usually trying to grow mine back out, because I had a bowl cut for years. Sometimes I couldn't decide-long or short? Long won out for a long time after the metal years. Perms were an option, too, but
that's gone the way of the dinosaur because I'm just not paying that much for one anymore. Then I discovered Clairol.
Before I started my junior year in high school, I colored my hair for the first time. Semi-permanent Loving Care, Medium Ash Brown. Mom said it would make my hair black. And it did. We'll blame Nikki Sixx for that. I still have the Motley Crue picture that prompted that move. It was out of an all-Crue copy of...Tiger Beat or something. It was 1985, so presenting my newly discovered metalhead personality was priority. I wore jeans and a red shirt with funky black designs on it. I don't think I had my purple Converse All-Stars yet. Needless to say, I really didn't shock anybody.
Clothes shopping was (still is) always fun for back-to-school, and you had to stragtegically plan your wardrobe. In 1988, when I started my sophomore year at HSU, on the first day of marching band practice with the brand new
band director, I wore a cut-up Guns N' Roses t-shirt: black, a skull, wrapped with roses and gun barrels poking out of the eye holes on the front. I wanted to walk up to freshman and say "You know where you are? You're in the jungle, baby. You're gonna die!!"
I never actually did that, but I was just happy I wasn't want of them. Regardless of whether I said it or not, they still thought I was kinda scary. "Freaky rocker chick" became my persona for several years.
And...that hasn't changed much, I don't think. Did I mind? Eh...not so much.
MY students don't know that, though. They see hardcore evil professor the first day. I ALWAYS wear black on the Day 1. I did when I taught high school and I still do it now. And as a college instructor, you have to have TWO black outfits: One for Monday/Wednesday class, and another for Tuesday/Thursday class. I was told years ago in my education prep classes, during the "how to dress for success" sessions, that black was a color of power.
Think Darth Vader. Johnny Cash. Boris Badenov. It seems to work.
Sometimes I'll skip my contacts and throw on the glasses for more severity. On occasion, I'll pull the hair up. I don't smile much. (I was once told not to smile until Christmas, but I don't always follow that.) I talk really fast. I want students to walk out of that first class meeting absolutely terrified. It's always interesting to see who comes back the next time. Honestly, I don't think I've ever really scared anybody.
This is more difficult to do with online classes because they don't see me, but the better Blackboard gets, that may all change someday.
The freaky rocker chick persona is now reserved for shows. Students never see this, unless they are brave enough to come see the band, and I do invite them on a regular basis. Then they go, "WTH?"
One of my colleagues, who was listening to students complain about how much work they had to do in both the Fine Arts classes, said, "You have an art teacher who still paints and sculpts, and a music teacher who still performs regularly. You don't know how lucky you are that they're still 'in-action'."
Ha ha HA!!!
I covered school supplies. I've covered clothing and appearance. So...now what?
Oh, the idea that it's all NEW. New school year. Meet new people. Try new things. Experience new situations. That's why I always enjoyed starting a new school year. I'd have new teachers, I'd learn new stuff. I'd meet new
people, (even though that's not my strong suit, meeting new people), but I could make new friends. I grew up in one place, never changed schools. I saw the same people every year from K through 12. So, maybe someone would
come from a really cool place and that might expand my view of the world.
We always learned a new halftime show in marching band. I don't miss marching AT ALL, but it was fun to learn new music and new drills, which really weren't that new because Mena didn't do corps style marching. Mr. Gray rotated 4 to 5 military, 6 to 5 marching band shows throughout the years so no one class ever marched the same show twice. So, in a way, it WAS a new show every year.
Being one of those annoying academic overachievers, I looked forward to new classes, like Journalism, Advanced History, and Music Theory. I'm talking high school here, but even as a little kid in elementary and middle school I was the same. To finally learn to write in cursive in the 3rd grade. (I don't think they teach that anymore either. Have you seen some of this younger generation's handwriting??) To learn science in a REAL lab. (Although I was sick on earthworm dissection day in 7th grade.) I thought it was cool to FINALLY meet those teachers everybody was always warning us about. And they weren't that scary, after all.
I always had personal goals, too. To be more social, more this or less that. In my college years, I was concerned about trying not to get sloppy. Not that I went to class in my pajamas like students do nowadays, but I'd skip the make-up and hair and throw on whatever was available as long as it was clean. I do remember those times when all my casual clothes were dirty and only my dress clothes were clean, so I'd end up having to "dress up" for class. Then everyone would ask, "What are you all dressed up for?" I saw this happen to other people so it was nice to know I wasn't alone.
As a high school teacher, I always looked forward to fixing up my classroom. Putting up new posters and whatnot. Reorganzing my vast amount of junk or moving my desk around. This isn't much different in the higher ed area, though I can't move my desk as easily anymore because it's this huge cockpit monstrosity that only fits in one of two corners in my office and I refuse to sit with my back to the door. I don't have a classroom to decorate, so I spend time trying to fix what didn't work lesson-wise the year before. This is why I adopt a new textbook every 3 or 4 years because for a while there I got stuck in a rut. I taught the same two classes for about 5 semesters and I got sooooo bored I had instructional mono. Talking about the same crap over and over again twice a week.
That's what's so cool about collge teaching. I can choose when my classes are scheduled. I can decide what books and supplies I want to use. And since I am the only one who teaches my subjects, I don't answer to anybody but me. And the Humanities dean, of course. I just created my own custom textbook from an online service and hopefully it will save my students SOME money. After having to buy books for myself again for PhD classes, I thought, "This crap is so overpriced." I'm paying $125 for a book that cost about $5 dollars to manufacture, so screw that. So much other stuff is available online so my job is getting almost too easy.
Shh!!! Don't tell anybody!!
I'm excited about this semester not only because of the new music book, but because of my new Spanish program. Totally online and interactive. I'll never have to grade another oral assignment ever again. (Knock on wood.) Those will grade themselves. This thing has a voice recognition feature that actually says, "I didn't understand you." When you pronounce things correctly, all the words turn green. ¡Qué bueno!
I just hope students will be able to navigate it. I had to be trained for it, so if I can follow arrows and see flashing lights, they should be able to figure it out.
I think I have the music issue straightened out, too, as long, as students have decent computers. Everything will be mp3s online and they don't even have to download them if they don't want to. They can just go online and
listen. Having YouTube through Blackboard has helped. I didn't hear a lot of bitching about it last summer, so I guess that was a success.
So. School is back in session. I have a couple of new ensembles I can throw on. I did get out the hair color again. Auburn this time. Elvira Halloween Black doesn't really suit anymore. (It didn't in the 80s either, but oh well.) I got my school supply goodie bag at in-service. More correction tape. Yippee!!! I'll be using that a lot. ALL of my classes made. The AC is fixed in my office and I don't have to drive to Nashville. I get to zip around on campus in my groovy little car and foreign language software and audio/visual technology has made life really good.
First, I'll say that when I saw an item on David Etienne's facebook status about tragedy in Western Arkansas this morning, I was not even aware of where it was exactly. Now that I do know, I will say that I am devastated by this news. I've only watched a couple of news videos(I haven't turned on the TV today), and I know I can't watch any more or I'll be a complete mess. More of one than I am already this week. So I'm gonna get this out of the way first.
I went to Albert Pike with my friend Mandy Emerson when we were kids. It was a Sunday afternoon. I asked for some water and her Dad made some weird comment about Russian vodka and he laughed because the look on my face said, "I'm drinking what?" (That's what I remember; it was one of those "you had to be there" kind of things.) I've also canoed the Caddo. I also know that I hate flooding. I had the Mississippi River in my den over in McGehee one spring. I waded through ankle deep water in my house in DeQueen three summers ago. These are reasons why I live in a second floor loft.
I can't imagine being as terrified as those who were just enjoying a weekend of camping. I can only hope that everyone is found. I was glad to see Mike Beebe out there in the middle of things. It reminded me of Gary Johnson of New Mexico, who slept on a cot at the Fire Station in Los Alamos when the town was burning down in 2000. Don and I were in Arkansas, hoping we still had a duplex when we returned. We did. And we found our dog, too. Go Animal Planet!
(And is it just me, or do tragedies seem to happen Thursday nights? Mena tornado, last year?)
I'll probably not watch any more news, because, I will cry, (I don't mean to gross anyone out, really), and I don't know how much more fluid is going to come out of my nose. I had my deviated septum un-deviated Monday morning, and I'm still recovering. I have splints packed inside my nose and I sound like I have the worst cold in the world. I don't hurt, I'm just really uncomfortable. I have to walk around with gauze taped to my face, because my nose is running a marathon, so to speak. It did stop bleeding though, on the left side, on Tuesday. Every so often I have to rinse with salt water, so then I'm drooling. Today I've had to sneeze a lot, and that's made my eyes water because you have to do it through your mouth. I did get "celebrity" treatment at the surgery center, though. That's pretty cool when you get recognized and can hand out business cards in pre-op.
I can get up and move around, but a short trip to the grocery store was about all I could stand yesterday. My "nurse" had to go to work in Warren, but that's okay. I'm functioning. I can take the dogs out. I don't look very glamorous doing it, but the dogs don't care. I worked on my online classes last night and may have done it for too long because I felt kinda queasy this morning. That seems to have gone away. Today I watched my latest Dark Shadows DVD, and just took it easy. My voice is fine-I tried some super quiet Journey on the radio yesterday, so it's still there.
The packing comes out June 23. I'll probably be amazed at how well I can breathe.
Since we moved to the loft over two and a half years ago, this is only the fourth time I have spent the night alone here. Which seems kinda weird, I guess. I spent many nights by myself when Don was doing a lot of work on the road; even three months in a row right after we moved to Los Alamos. And I spend a lot of time alone when I'm at the Hut during the school year, so why is this a big deal?
It just is!!
Spending time alone in DeQueen is pretty much a drag, mainly because there's only Wal-Mart for shopping and I don't have all my favorite channels on my superbasic satellite plan. I don't have a safe place to ride my bike. And I'm usually doing homework. I'm still doing that, but now my "free" time is much better.
I've got more than one place to "slum shop." And they're open on Saturdays. I've got Old Navy and TJ Maxx and Big Lots. (Three stores I should probably stay out of.) I can ride my bike on the bike trail. I can go to the gym, and there's a pool there.
But that's in the daytime. What's this night thing all about?
Well...it's like this: I can do whatever I want! :)
What I used to do was order a pizza, sit down with a 2-liter bottle of Coke, a bag of chocolate-covered peanuts and watch all the dumb movies I either had seen a million times or had never seen at all. I'd play Minesweeper and stay up almost all night doing all the other stupid things I like to do to waste time.
Since I'd already had pizza this week, and am trying to cut down on candy-eating, I altered my routine somewhat. (Still drank my Coke, though. Just not the whole bottle.) My day was like this:
I did the bike ride. And will do it tomorrow and the next day, because after Monday I won't be able to exercise for a while. I cleaned up and went to Salvation Army. I was going to buy this really cool CD-player-clock-radio thing I saw earlier this week but it was gone. Bummer. I went to the grocery store for another gallon of milk and a 12-pack of strawberry soda.
CHILDHOOD THROWBACK MOMENT: It's summer. That's when you buy cheap, fruity-flavored soda, like Black Cherry, and ginger ale. And generic brown sugar/cinnamon toaster pastries. Then all is right with the world.
Then I came home, and I don't plan on leaving the house for the rest of the weekend, except to ride the bike and take out the dogs. Did menial housework. Finished watching The Women. (The 1939 version, with Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford and the completely hilarious Rosalind Russell, not the crappy remake with Meg Ryan.) I made soup in the fondue pot. Finished my homework assignment and prepped for the next one. I sat down and fed Mama Kitty, fending off the other cats with a water bottle. She ate a good amount of food and drank some milk. Hopefully, she will start to fatten up and will come out into the open again.
Since all of the video stores are closing all around us, (and TV basically stinks anyway), I browsed Netflix for the new version of "The Women" so I could see just how bad it really is compared to the old one. It wasn't available for "instant watching," so MST3K won out. I watched Super Agent, Super Dragon and now I've got another one on, and I can't even remember the name of it. It's funny stuff regardless-and I laugh every time. I shared my popcorn with Zorak, who ate it even though it was sprinkled with Tony Chacherie's and hot wing seasoning.
HOLY CRAP!! They just said "Garth Vader" on this MST3K movie!! If only I could create a YouTube moment for that!!
Now here I am. Enjoying my boring evening at home. I'll probably read another goofy 1970s cheesy gothic novel before I go to sleep.
Tomorrow's routine won't be much different. I'll do more homework, work on my Internet summer classes, and get things in order before my surgery. And for the next few days, I'll learn to function on Vicodin just like Dr. House.
In honor of Mother's Day, I'm posting the article I wrote last year that appeared in HER magazine, May 2009:
Oh, yes! I definitely am! And that’s perfectly okay with me.
People have always considered me a “chip off the ol’ block.” Some women would have flames bursting from their eyes if anyone told them this, but not me. Growing up with “Carol Burnett meets Elizabeth Taylor” (minus the Richard Burton element), was never dull. My mom is funny, beautiful, and doesn’t take a lot of crap from anybody. I for sure got the funny part, because if I can make people laugh, I’ve done my good deed for the day. I’m still working on the beautiful part. That always took some work, because my mother couldn’t get me to wear a dress or makeup without great gnashing of teeth. She’s been accused of dressing up to clean house. I’m accused of having too many dresses and not wearing any of them.
When I got married, I instantly became the mother of four. I helped raised two of them on an everyday basis: girls, age six and nine at the time. I skipped colic, diapers, and potty training and went straight to slumber parties and tubes of lipstick left in the pocket of a pair of pants that got put into the dryer.
After a month went by, I called my mother and said, “I apologize for everything I’ve ever done.” I was in my late twenties, so that covered a lot of ground.
All four of these children are grown now; three have children of their own. This made me a grandmother at 31. (I could insert one of those online, IM-speak acronyms of shock here, but I’ll refrain.) It wasn’t until I started hanging with the grandkids that I really noticed how much I was saying things like, “Scat, Tom!” when someone sneezed. I haven’t started calling everyone “shug” yet, but that might be a future endeavor.
I was standing in line at the local discount shopping mecca and glanced through an article about something rather unmentionable in one of those women’s magazines that likes to broadcast things that most women really don’t want to see broadcast in the checkout line, and thought, “Gee! I knew that in the fifth grade!” Because my mother told me. She knows everything, like the names of obscure actors all the way back to the 1930s. My children now ask me, “Who’s that?” when old black and white films turn up on TCM. Nine times out of ten, I know exactly who they are, thanks to excellent maternal guidance.
My mom and I definitely have different musical tastes, although she did think Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” was kinda catchy. Without her, I wouldn’t have Frankie Laine and Andy Williams on my mp3 player, right alongside Black Sabbath and Nickelback. “The Theme for Rawhide” coming on right after “Iron Man” upsets the passengers in my car somewhat, but you know what? I really don’t care. “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin…”
My mother loves to read, and I remember frequent trips to the library as a child. She introduced me to Stephen King, and we both had extreme fears of Plymouth automobiles for a while. (Remember Christine?) I don’t know if that explains my sister’s avid interest in the film version of Cujo, but oh, well. If I had time, I’d follow Mom’s lead and join a book club, but I don’t think “Building Online Communities: Effective Strategies for the Virtual Classroom” is on Oprah’s reading list.
Mother-daughter relationships are complicated. Every woman knows this. Especially if they survived their teenage years and still have both arms and legs. Several films have captured the dynamic: Terms of Endearment, Postcards from the Edge, Steel Magnolias, and Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. (Hmm…three of those starred Shirley MacLaine. Wonder what that means?) Some women strive to be like their mothers, others…not so much. I really doubt Amy Winehouse’s future children will still be telling her to go to rehab when they become adults. We won’t even mention Joan Crawford or that woman who had the octuplets. Maybe Shirley MacLaine could step in and line up everybody’s chakras.
Regardless of whatever may have happened between birth and the day we looked at a stray digital photo and said, “Oh, wait! That’s a picture of ME! I thought it was my mom!,” one thing is certain: We are all shaped into who we are as woman because of our mothers, no matter what the relationship may be. Some of us have spent every day of our lives with our mothers. Other were adopted, or separated from their mothers due to divorce or death or other circumstances. Be proud of those traits you’ve picked up, either consciously or unconsciously, and remember those special women on their day this month. Without them, you wouldn’t be reading this column, and I wouldn’t be writing it!
THANKS TO ALL THOSE MOTHERS OUT THERE!! YOU ARE LOVED!!
The year was relatively uneventful. I didn’t have to drive to Nashville in the fall but I had to this spring. And that sucked, as usual. I hate that campus. I drove all that way and no one ever showed up for Spanish class. There were only three students, but still. I even scheduled a “fun” day for Cinco de mayo and no one came to the restaurant. Huh. So I ate a taco and went home.
That was just this week though. The previous months were nothing out of the ordinary, as I said before. I spent my first months at the Hut, which is a cool place to stay during the week. It’s quiet, it’s out of the way, and I have Internet service. What more could I need? I kept plugging away at my PhD classes. I made my first B in Stats class, but I’m still a genius according to recent grades. I’m into the research classes which are boring as hell. My current mentor has a name that sounds like a snack cake. Unfortunately, she won’t be staying at NCU and will leave after my course is over in June. Too bad-she seemed fair. I would have liked to have had her on my dissertation committee.
The two new classes I developed have been added to the schedule for next year. Music Fundamentals in the fall and American Popular Music in the spring. This gives me more teaching hours, and will solve my Nashville problem and I will never have to go over there again. Spanish students will just have to come to the language lab in DeQueen (where they should be) or settle for online. Here’s the other cool thing though: The new program I’m using for Spanish is totally cool and will breathe new life into the classes. Maybe I’ll be able to schedule more upper level classes. They’ll have native speakers to talk to any time and the computer will even tell them if they’re completely botching the pronunciation, which happens a lot. My job just got a lot easier, and the students may actually enjoy taking a foreign language. Of course, if they get slammed too often, I guess they wouldn’t enjoy it.
I “wrote” my own textbook for the music class. I created a custom book through the publisher and cut about $100 off the price. I added what I liked and ditched what stunk. I’ve got a whole new idea for making sound files available. YouTube has helped a lot, too. They can watch performances instead of just listening to them. Hopefully I can engage them more and they won’t have to listen to me drone on and on.
So-my job should be more interesting next fall. I don’t know if anyone will be able to stand those recorders squeaking and squawking but, oh well. It will be fun to teach people how to play again.
The band was busy. And will keep being busy. We’ve learned some new songs. We tossed out “My Sharona” the other night on the fly and it sounded pretty good. That made up for ME squeaking and squawking the other night with my latest cold. It has finally cleared up and I should be back in top form Friday. I hate not being able to sing. I’m always scared my voice is gone and won’t ever come back.
I’m having surgery done in July and will be down for two weeks. They’re going to straighten out my deviated septum, so I might be able to breathe for the first time in 40+ years. That will be interesting. We plan on working on an original album during that time. I’ll blog about how tough songwriting is some other time.
Let’s see. What else crosses my brain this evening? While a big yellow cat sits on the back of my couch and stares blankly into space? Oh, yeah, the battle of the Homeless Commune across the street from the loft. My view: Go away. Take your freaky, untrained, moo-ma, touchy-feely wacko shelter some place else. I’m tired of dirty bums wandering around my neighborhood. God helps those who help themselves, not those who enable people to continue to waste away the life God gave them. People with mental health issues and drug problems need real professional help and safe boundaries, not a free rock show and an ice cream cone. Those things are nice, but not a solution. And NO ORGANIZATION OF ANY KIND SHOULD PUT OTHERS’ LIVES IN DANGER. Especially those who WORK in their organization. Have they thought about that at all? It’s a mess. They’re misinformed and irresponsible.
I’ll stop there, because I’d rather end on a positive note.
The summer is almost here and I will get to be in my own home for awhile, hanging out with my favorite person in the whole world. And the shopping will be much better.
