FRIDAY FABLES

Once upon a time, long, long ago… Miss Bliss had yet another birthday… though at that time the number was still small…19. Life was good. She was in a relationship… a hard won relationship where the guy had been the prize. The contest had been between her and her dear friend, who shall be called Assassin… and in fact would later continue that friendship using that as her friend’s name in communications… calling herself, aptly, Asylum on each note she signed. Let us say that for a time she felt that she had gone insane.

The contest for the guy had been simple. They had both adored him… swooned over him for over a year. The unattainable mystery man who had perfect pitch and a musical recall that was divine. He could hear a song once and then sit down and play it. Did that in fact one day… the first time either he or Bliss had heard Over the Hills and Far Away. Sat right down and played it back for Bliss on a 12 string. But my mind wanders… He was much sought after and avoided being tied down. What do you do when you both like the same guy? Well, we decided that the first one to get him to kiss her would win. The other would gracefully back off and let the other have him. Yeah… right.

Bliss never thought of herself as competitive. She was for the most part very giddy but otherwise laid back… took great joy in the odd things that she could find to do. By odd I mean, well… strange. As Gonzo the Muppet says “Silly’s bad, weird is good!” (though not for years after this). You could not find a more mellow person than Bliss, who avoided drama like the plague. Crazy was okay too. As long as it was fun and no one got hurt. No more dithering… you have the back ground and a healthy foreshadowing of the issue here. But only part. Let us call this man… GMan… for guitar man.

GMan had a 57’ Chevy Bellaire. What a great car! All through Ananda year GMan drove them around in it… Assassin was always first up front, so Bliss rode in the back usually alone. Wrote a poem about that too. Bugged the piss right out of her! Revved that competitive spirit right up to overdrive. There had to be a way… Yep, heaven help the unwary. Bliss was a creative gal who could bide her time and remain in the back seat only so long. One night she got her chance when there was something that the Assassin’s mother said she had to attend. Hee hee. (Give that a good evil tone, will ya!)

Sorry again… no details. Let us just say she won in a very devious (deviant?) way. Hee hee. But all is fair in love and war and the lines had been drawn. Bliss won the prize… and gloated horribly. Assassin for her part seemed to take it well and took a giant step back… waiting for Bliss to fall flat on her face, no doubt. Bliss would have been lesser person had she lost. Indeed. But Karma has a one hand clap for those who dabble in arrogance!

A few weeks later, they learned that Steve Miller, King Crimson and someone gone from my brain cells were to play at Filmore West. It was decided that the four of them… because the Cuckoo was always present as GMan’s best friend and something odd else. (Give him any role you wish.) But he was crazy about Bliss. It was decidedly the most odd of relationships between the four of us… all attempting to manage to stay together while jockeying for positions. Still it made things awkward at best and Bliss was more than willing to ditch Cuckoo for the concert.

The plan was to stay at GMan’s friend’s home, Walnetto… then to manage to locate and visit the Cartoonist (Okay if you have been a reader here long, you should be able to figure that guy out.) who had moved to SF to their group’s dismay.

It should have been a great time. Bliss triumphantly tossed her backpack in the Chevy and took the front seat. It was hers now by right. It was Assassin’s turn to be in the back alone.

There they were outside the Filmore West. As the line moved up slowly, it became obvious that people were being searched. Hummmm… it was Bliss’s birthday and she had a full lid in her purse. How good could she be at getting in with it? Too public to stash it quickly in her underwear…She accepted that challenge and failed! The police were busy busting a guy in the line next to hers when it happened. HOLYMOTHER F****** S***! She was certain that she was about to see what the inside of SF’s jail looked like. But never to be held back, she put on her best sad look and the attendant took pity on her… stuffing her glorious full lid into his tiny drawer at his search station and told her to get inside quick. HA! No jail tonight!

But I’ll lay money that the attendant had a great buzz later. Small price to pay.

The relief she felt was enough for her to shake it off… there were lids and they were cheap in those days. Daddy always gave her money… the pot business was thriving… and at concerts things were always passed around. Life was still good. The birthday magic was holding firm. She was inside and she was safe. Her assumption held true. Joints were passed around as they waited for the music to begin, each gal sitting on either side of the prize. Their excitement increased and they chatted happily.

Then she was telling her I-almost-got-popped-story… because Bliss cannot resist a story telling… to a nice looking man in the row ahead of her… including the fact that it was her birthday… what a day to lose your lid! No hidden guile here… she was after that fatty the man was smoking. Gentleman that he was NOT, he passed it to her. She took a few good lungs worth and passed it on to her fella. He passed it to the Assassin. Then it was quickly passed back. GMan was whispering something to Assassin. Never mind, thought Bliss… no problem here. Her confidence swelled like a banana fish. Damn but that was odd tasting pot… but wow… her mind was exploding… and she accepted the joint back with eager anticipation of better explosions to come. The not a gentleman smiled wide at her. She grinned back and he nodded at her to keep puffing… so she did.

“Would you quit smoking that shit!” GMan demanded. HUH? She hit again and again.

“Bliss… STOP! ITS DUST.” He shouted. Puff, puff… dust? Puff, puff…HUH? OH!” She handed it back. The not a gentleman nodded at her to keep it. She shook her head and said she had had enough. Right about then things got weird. A band came on… the house lights dimmed and Bliss was tossed into the music.

At some point, the need to pee made it’s way into her not very conscience mind. She told GMan, who passed that problem on to Assassin, who rolled her eyes and made a snorting sound, stuck out her hand and hauled Bliss off to the ladies’ room… at least that was what was supposed to happen. Walking was a problem. All of SF had managed to tilt to one side and it was as if Bliss was on a rolling ocean liner. This made Bliss have a terrible case of the giggles and she began to sing… quite badly… Thirty Days in the Hole… and lost the Assassin about when she hit the words… “It takes a dirty whore and a rolling dance floor to give me my release…” as the ocean liner drifted off somewhere without her. Bliss was afloat in a sea of bodies and music. She used her hands along the wall to keep herself upright.

Then she arrived to semi-alert in a strange place. There were very few people and she still needed to pee like a race horse needs to run. But where was she? Confusion set in, so she did what she could and stood still… a dangerous balancing act on no a high wire. A rather concerned looking god in overalls came up and peered at her face… asked if she was okay. She croaked out “no”. He nodded and found her a chair. She sat… and confessed… “Some guy dusted me. I have to pee.” Ah… the silver tongue! He nodded again, took her by the hand and led her to a nice little private bathroom. He, who was a gentleman, waited outside.

To this day Bliss cannot recall what happened after for an undetermined interlude. But she may have seen Robert Fripp walk past and glace her way. He may have been someone else. And there were others who just sort of accepted that she was sitting there quietly trying not to fall out of her chair… in awe. It was a bit foggy back there. No brain cell activity was firing. Then the good stranger in the over alls returned to ask how she was doing… and Bliss dared to stand up. He asked if she thought she could make it back now. She agreed that she could. He steered her by her shoulders to a door and all the sound returned… music, the ocean of people. Gentleman that he was, he asked if she could make it back again. Bliss thanked him profusely and started forward. But he caught her elbow and called to someone… who came to look at Bliss’s ticket stub. A furry man, a short man. He smiled and led her back to her seat’s row, pointed and left her to crawl across the knees to sit at last next to GMan. Safe again.

Who knows how long that ocean voyage had lasted? Time had lost its grip for Bliss, but she was content to be where she belonged. How long could it have taken if the Assassin and GMan had not thought to come looking for her? Talk was impossible at this point, so she leaned back in her seat to enjoy the show.,, though time and awareness both eluded her. When King Crimson hit the stage, she perched on the edge of her seat… trying to see and compare with the foggy memory if that was indeed Mr. Frip. The strangeness of the music carried her mind away several times… poor girl never did figure that out for sure. So she let it lay at rest.

This night, Michael Giles, the usual drummer was absent. In his place was Bill Bruford… an amazing drummer from Yes… who began an awesome drum solo. Bliss peered at the man who was spinning as he drummed… the whole drum set spun with him. It took her a moment to get that this was part of the act. It truly was spinning. He was wearing overalls with no shirt. Bliss considered this carefully and tired harder to see him. She looked at GMan who was enrapt with the music and looked back again. Could it have been the man who was a gentleman? Bliss will never know. So much for the glory of being high. In all honesty, she could not see or think straight for a good amount of time. The one thing that she is sure of is that Greg Lake, was there to sing.

As concerts go, it was outstanding. Bliss was sort of aware again by the time Steve Miller played and enjoyed that very much. But angle dust has some odd property that makes a person behave in a strange manor… Bliss became royally pissed on the ride back to Walnetto’s over absolutely nothin. This anger made her stew something terribly and she was not a kind person to be around. By the time they got there, she was in a snit, pacing and being generally the worst company possible. Both the Assassin and GMan tip toed around and left her to stew.

Then the worst thing in the world happened for that moment in time. GMan told her that he wanted to screw the Assassin. One tiny bit of information that was way too big for her brain. He asked permission! Permission? Ha! What an idiot! So Bliss screwed her face up and said “I guess that’s up to you.” Then she marched over to her sleeping bag and zipped herself in tight.

The Assassin broke Bliss’s poor angry heart and he did too. Turns out he was not much of a prize after all. The mission to see the Cartoonist fell in the wake of her silent wrath. They loaded themselves into the Chevy… Bliss purposely set her livid self into the back seat alone and spoke only when spoken to… simmering on high. They returned to Bliss’s home because the parents were out of town. Cuckoo was there waiting… a fact that further fueled the fire behind her slitted eyes. Soon after she would pitch the biggest meanest fit of her life… and throw every one out to the last man.

That was it for GMan. He made the wrong choice. For her part, I think that Assassin felt really bad. I know that GMan did. But hey… you make your choices in life and you have to live with the consequence. Including Bliss’s for not screaming No in his face. Yet then, she might not have met the Esq. who was her fiancée for a time… until he made a bad choice too… and she made another by stealing the Esq’s best friend and nailing him to the cross… becoming a wife… sealing the door on Miss Bliss. Goodness but Bliss has made some poor choices!

But then she would never have had the wonderful children she did… and that was the best choice she ever made. But Bliss is back and relatively happy. An end to one thing and the beginning of another. And so it goes.

I guess the moral of this story is best summed up by Heroin Bob who wisely told me

"Drugs make you stupid."

What a horrible birthday from hell. I possibly had the opportunity of a lifetime to meet some very high quality musicians and was too high to enjoy it. I lost big hunks of time that I have no idea what I did or did not do... chunks of time like missing jigsaw puzzle pieces. I was betrayed by the two people closest to me. Yikes.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. I will not be at my box on rocks. I'm off to a turkey pot luck. It should be an interesting adventure. I haven't been to meet anyone's mom in a long time. It's a strange experience for me. But that is fine... I still enjoy odd things... new things. Wish me luck.

Now here is a bit of music for you to enjoy, please do!

KING CRIMSON - Epitaph

Today... a guest post by thebear.

As you know, Bear is my silver hair child... she gave me lots of reasons to grow them. However, she has redeemed herself many times over. She is my best friend, my only daughter and one of the best people I have the pleasure of knowing. She has recently gone back to college to become a nurse. I am extremely proud of her. This is a piece she wrote for her writing class. Writing is not new to the Bear. She wrote poetry in high school that her teacher raved about and she is also an excellent speaker.It is my joy to share her with you today.

I was everyone’s favorite drunk girl, the life of every party. You could find me wherever the alcohol was flowing. I loved my life. It was exciting with never a dull moment. I lived the way I wanted to live. However, my life was about to forever change in a way I had never thought possible and in a direction I never thought that I wanted. On August 13, 2006, I found the saying, “Every cloud has a silver lining” to be true.

On a warm summer night, he hopped over the railing of the deck and into my life forever. His name was Mikey P. From our first encounter I knew he was the one who would change my life, but I didn’t know just how much. We were both on a path of self destruction. Both of us allowed our lives to be fueled by alcohol. We were an imperfect match. We moved quickly into a whirlwind of a relationship which included his many stays in NORCOR corrections facility. Each time he was released we would throw him a welcome home party, beginning, yet again an alcohol induced romance. We really didn’t know each other all too well, but we didn’t care as long as we were drunk. As we were hitting the fifth month of our on and off relationship, Michael landed himself in jail and was facing a four month sentence. It was the end of something; I could feel it. This time Michael and I decided it was time to attempt to change the course of our lives, since he was looking at a long stay and a forced sobriety, maybe I should try to be sober, too. The next ten days would lead to finale of the party girl phase.

I woke up August 12, 2006 knowing it was time to wind down and focus on sobriety. I felt sick to my stomach and had been feeling ill quite regularly, I had even blacked out at work, collapsing onto the floor. I was sure I was going to die if I didn’t do something about the alcohol abuse. At the time I had passed out at work, the EMT asked me if was pregnant or if I had taken any drugs.My reply was, to my knowledge, honest and a quick “HELL NO!” But the symptoms persisted. I thought, “Could I be pregnant?” I bought a pregnancy test and put it aside until the morning. That night I smoked some weed and decided to go for a walk. I walked through town until I found a party. The question still lingered in my head “Could I REALLY be pregnant?” I had no appetite for alcohol that night, the party girl had disappeared, and I barely finished five beers before I said my goodbyes and went home, retreating to my bed. I woke up at 6:00am August 13^th, before anyone was awake so I could have complete privacy. I snuck quietly into the bathroom, the test hidden under my shirt. I sat on the toilet, did the business, and waited for what felt like an eternity. In actuality, it only took about twenty seconds for the two lines to appear and reveal my future.

There it was on that little stick, this little cloud looming over head. It was a brutal stab in the chest. Of all things needed in my life, a child was not the likely ???admixture. The real

ization was difficult, but the hardest was yet to come. I know and now he needs to know. I wrote the longest, most in depth, and scariest letter ever written; sealed it and addressed it to 201 Webber Rd. The Dalles, OR. I sent it on a Monday and still hadn’t received a reply by the following Saturday visit. I was nervous, anxious, and frightened. I shook as I signed in. Patiently waiting to see Michael, I worried “Will he accept my visit?” and “What will he say?” The doors unlocked and I walked into the windowed visitors section to find him smiling arrogantly, eyes full of excitement. It was a sobering event. He was happy. It was what he needed to see the light, and I too felt it come together. In an instant, an amazing feeling of hope struck me like lightning. The cloud lifted and shifted away. Michael was soon approved to be released from NORCOR to go to the ARC rehabilitation facility to gain the knowledge to begin fresh, for me I had no choice, I had to be sober. I could never go back.

Michael was in rehab for a month. While he worked on himself, I worked hard, got an apartment, and prepared for his arrival. When he came home for the first time, I was four and a half months pregnant. A month later we found out we were having a little boy.

Our son was born April 7, 2007.

We named him Michael. He is two and a half now, full of energy and life. His lively spirit still catches me off guard. The little cloud that hung over head never came back. Michael and I are going on four years sobriety. We found what we looking for- unconditional love, a reason to get up every morning, a reason to be responsible. The silver lining is a bright little boy, with big brown eyes, who wakes up every morning with a smile on his face and always reminds me that he loves mommy.

I could never imagine my life if I had never been given a second chance. Sometimes when something happens unexpectedly, we feel like the world has ended. But in some cases we get just what we needed. I couldn’t be any happier with the way things turned out

.

Good job Bear! I could not be happier or more proud if I tried. I am so glad that you have found happiness and that you have given me such a marvelous set of gifts... your sobriety, because I worried so much for both of you, your Mikey P. who is a wonderful loving and concerned son and that precious precocious Michael, affectionate rascal and grandma's boy. Thank you for allowing me to post this today.

I would only add one small footnote to thebear's story... the day she passed out at work, the person first on the scene was the same police officer who had brought my drunken 15 year old beauty home safe and sound one scary evening. How interesting that she... the police officer would be at the beginning and the end of thebear's party girl days.

And forgive her? How could I not... this nut did not fall far from the tree.

My own mini Miss Bliss.

Pay back is a m.f.

This is the email she sent me last night... note the writing style here!

Oh... it's delivered with love, bet on it.

"so i will have to do the pics tomorrow, I am tired and going to bed now. I have a B in my writing class by the way. I found out tonight, so exciting! woot woot!
loves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to the moon and back bitch"

Loves to you too, bratt... to the moon and beyond the farthest stars!

woot!

Have an outstanding day! I am. thebear is right... it's good to have a reason to get up in the morning. I hope your reasons are half as great as mine... that would make you rich indeed.

MY 15 PICKS FINAL 5

Okay folks... this is the final 5 of my 15 albums. I thought about just doing those albums that I'd love to have with me if stranded on an island paradise, but really... there are so many! I'm terrible about making choices. This was really hard to do. So I opted for those that influenced me and led to my personal musical taste.


Pink Floyd found me. I did not find them. I was babysitting in a crazy household where there was a constant stream of "cousins" who visited the woman I worked for at the time. I was 16. One of these "cousins" came into the room after the kiddos were in bed and plopped down next to me. He began to play a song on the guitar... and silly thing, asked ME for my advice. (Yes, I am aware that he was simply hitting on me.) He was trying to figure out a song he said and picked away at the chords.


When I said that I did not know that song... he provided the album. It was not Dark Side of the Moon, but Atom Heart Mother. They had one of those funny egg chairs with the speakers inside... and he put me in there to listen... I was totally blown away. I have adored every single thing they have had to offer. This would be my absolute favorite... being somewhat lunatic and brain damaged myself I identify with it completely. They do not fit any category that I can think of, they simply are what they are. There are no others like them. I let them speak for themselves.

Pink Floyd-Brain Damaged/Eclipse

BRAIN DAMAGED LYRICS-

Pink Floyd - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

This next album represents Steve Miller... all of it. A fine fellow who has stories to share. There is a story of my own attached to The Steve Miller Band. A bit of a nightmare really. I have said many times that astounding things happen on my birthday. They do. I don't know why, they just do. It's a Miss Bliss story really... so instead, I'll tell it properly on Friday Fables this week. But keep in mind that it is a difficult one to tell and it involves the concert that I attended and altered my life utterly.


The Steve Miller Band was a passion of one of my teachers. The teacher I look back on and say... this was the one who really did something positive for me. That is another tale for yet another day. But it was Bill E who got me hooked on this band the year that I went to Ananda School in our music appreciation class. Getting hooked is what led eventually to the nightmare tale mentioned above.

Many years later, my husband would deliver a load of steel roofing to Steve Miller's home studio... and he would tell this marvelous musician that I was his... Steve Miller's.... greatest fan. Then came home without an autograph! What??? Why would you not ask for one? Sheesh!
Steve Miller Band - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


Leon Russell and Marc Benno's Asylum Choir II. Not near as well known as Leon's Carnival album, but it got me hooked on Leon's southern story telling style. Leon Russell led me to Rita Coolidge and her soft deep soft voice... which led to Joe Cocker... which led to Bonny and Delaney... which... brought me back to Eric Clapton... and on and on... until I came to the man below.

Leon Russell - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I cannot think of a better story teller in music than Jackson Browne. Again, I cannot stress enough that the musical telling of stories is what makes me enjoy these albums.

Jackson Browne - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I love the way that stories roll out of this man. And they are stories that we can all related to in some way. People stories. Everyday people stories.




All of the above albums are from way back when. But I'll now include a newer one at the end of my 15 because this group had a profound effect on me. My son, Max is into punk. I listen to what my kids play... because it's part of being a good parent to know what your kids are into and well, because I love music. My love for these gentlemen began in the car on a trip to the town to the left. The music is quick to capture you... the stories are funny and sad and highly entertaining. They compel you to want to sing along. Finding them, led me into other groups... Flogging Molly, The Pogues, and so on for what is often called Irish Punk.

I have purposely not put them on my blog much. Because the temptation to over play them would ruin it for others. But the pleasure I take from listening to The Dropkick Murpys goes beyond the music. Okay... what the heck does that mean?


I got an MP3 player for Christmas. StbX actually bought it for me at no small expense. I did not expect to get a thing from him. We did not exchange presents usually... so that was sort of a huge deal. When I got it home, Max decided that he would download music that he thought I would enjoy... I requested these fellows.




I listened happily for days and sucked up every note. Then I got curious and went to check out their web site. Dropkick Murphys » splash
At that time they had sort of a mission statement about what they believed. I tired to find it for this post, but I can't. So pardon me for paraphrasing it. Basically it was tollerance for others and some other good stuff I agreed with and then it also mentioned that we need to look at ourselves find our flaws and work to correct what we can... to be the best person you can be.


Okay, not a new concept is it? But something about it struck a chord in my head. That was the day that I decided that my fate belonged to me. I was not a happy person. I was tired of being unhappy. No fairy god mother was going to come and rescue me... get off my duff and do it myself. "Change my stars." (a quote from A Kinght's Tale). I took a hard long look at myself and made a plan. The next morning I began to walk. The more I walked, the more confidence I had in my ability to succeed at what I wanted to do. Every morning I got up at an ungodly hour and popped these fellows to my ears and away we all went.



That is how it goes with this band... the audience is part of the band... that's their idea. You are expected to sing, dance... whatever, you join right in a become part of the band in one of their shows. And so The Dropkick Murphys are here for the most part because they kept me from feeling so alone, They offered me a strange inclusion and lent lyrics that were about working hard to be a better person that encouraged me to continue and know that I could do this. You just keep getting back up... Stand up and fight. Every damn day I do. Everyday it gets a bit better.

Not to mention that they are full of great stories.

Dropkick Murphys - The Gauntlet

Dropkick Murphys - "I'm Shipping Up to Boston" (Hooligans...

( This one's for Suldog who got me into this kettle of fish!)

Whatever you do today... take time to listen to something that you enjoy.

YIKES... NOT ENOUGH TIME IN MY UNIVERSE

The Bear went all out for my birthday! This is her famous cake... four layers of chocolate cake with homemade cream cheese frosting and alternating layers of fresh bananas and strawberries. Sinfully good.

This is the food she served... and made. This is actually my plate. I tried to be good. Took only small spoonfuls of the goodness. But I was stuffed like a Christmas goose by the time I finished it. I purposely chose the smallest plate that I could find. Sigh.

So what do you think... is StbX praying to the roast chicken gods or is he preparing to end it all. Of course an electric oven is a poor choice for that!

My evening was full of people who love me... and who I adore. This pair, the Bear and the pair below.

You can see where Sookie gets her cheesy smile.

The stars of the evening... roast chicken still steaming, surrounded by fresh mushrooms, carrots, broccoli and onions. YUM.
Bear knows what I love.



Gosh there is not much time in my world right now. Later when I got home, Squeaky was having a soda jones to the nth and I'd forgotten the bottle I got him at the Bear's house. Oops. I guess he should have gone huh?



I spent a bit of time trying to catch up on FB. Dedicated some time to the frog pond. Two new frogs... lost one I think. My fault. I canceled out on the second date we'd made to go to Springfield last weekend. Oops. But I'm not sorry about the choice I made.



I am finding that some frogs are not happy about me dating other frogs. But hey... how are you going to know anything if you don't check out more than one frog? Who says which one will work out? It's a matter of research. Isn't it? Besides, I am very open about what I am up to here.
That complaint is unacceptable prior to commitment.
Sheesh.



Short and sweet tonight. Have a wonderful Tuesday, all.



Bear... I love you. Thank you for a wonderful evening.
And thanks to all of you who gave me happy birthday wishes. Cool beans!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

This was Dumb Potter's Hell in the long ago...

back when the locks worked.

I had a really great weekend. It started out the way all my driving adventures do... LOST. I missed a turn. Got stuck on one of those nightmare turn things that just go around and around. Eventually got off of that and had to call him to come and find me.

But even before that it began badly... with snail pace traffic the first... yes, this is the truth... 60 or so miles of my trip. I was just about out of my gourd before I got there. It took me almost 2 and a half hours of extra time. Yikes!

But you know, there's something to be said for being rescued. I was awful glad to see him and it gave us something to laugh at... not that there isn't plenty of that in my daily life. Sheesh. But then conversation came easily and I settled into a comfortable weekend. I got the tour of his home and shop... some of the town.

When we got to his house... everything was there and waiting that I like. My favorite beer in the fridge, music I said I liked, foods, etc... someone has been paying attention. That's nice. I immediately felt very comfortable and at home. Sweet.

Saturday was nice and laid back. He took me back to where I got lost and showed me the right way to go so that I don't get lost there again. We watched the Beaver game early and later after BBQing a couple of burgers... watched the Ducks win. Yay!

Sunday was mostly laying around watching movies. A nice relaxing weekend. I had a great time. I've been invited back next weekend to go to turkey potluck... with him, his mom and step dad... who I will meet at that time. I have no doubt that I'll enjoy that as well.

When it was time to leave, I immediately made a wrong turn and yep... went to Eugene instead of toward Portland. I managed to get back on by myself. Believe me that was not easy with the maze of "no turn" and one way streets they have just off the freeway. But I managed. Made it home safely in excellent time. Very little traffic on the highway. I was a little buzzz bomb all the way home.

When I did get home two of the frogs were croaking... and I ended up spending the rest of my evening bouncing between them and the deerhunter. He's not really a frog any more... but not a prince yet either. Time will tell. If nothing else, I've made a fun and interesting new friend.

So no real post today... just this update. Oh yeah...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

I got the best present ever today when I stepped on the scale... the deerhunter had joked that I was going to weigh five pounds less by the end of the weekend. I laughed but rolled my eyes at that. But you know what? He was right. Very cool beans!

MY 15 PART 2

Hello metal...
Steppenwolf (band) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I would have to say that Steppenwolf had to be the earliest form of metal. My only other introduction to early metal would have been the very scary Iron Butterfly... scary because, well... they sucked! I was in 8th grade when Innagoodadavida showed up. Hey does anyone know how to spell that title? Yikes what a terrible tune! Yet it was played at every party and dance. On the other hand, so was Steppenwolf and that was music I could appreciate. It offered the beat and drive that I still find absolutely irresistible in metal to this day.


Buffalo Springfield - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

From metal to mellow... I saw these guys in a dinky ballroom way back... having been forced to accompany the Medusa. My mom liked to use me as some sort of weird human deterrent for people in our family to avoid getting into trouble. Maybe she thought I'd squeal on them. Ok... sometimes I did squeal on the Medusa, but you know... pay back and all that. Anyway, I thought that Stephen Stills was the dreamiest thing I'd ever seen and that was all it took to buy this album. I did tell you that none of my choices are based on actual musical knowledge right? Well I fell in love with the music too and from there followed everyone in it where they went, expanding my horizon all the more.

Alice's Restaurant - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

How could I not be affected by this one? Communes, hippies, a terrible crime complete with 8"X10" glossies and blind justice! A long winded story that just kept giving! To this day Thanksgiving does not pass by in my box on rocks without a good listen to... or viewing of the video of the Thanksgiving Masacree! It was a storyteller's dream... and I was well on my way to becoming a storyteller and reader when Arlo hit the screen.

Seatrain (band) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Not many of you will know these folk. This is Seatrain. They were a very bluegrass sort of beast with interesting themes and wonderful musical talent. Here is my favorite song... The Song of Job... and guess what it is... yep, a STORY. Are you getting the feel of the theme here? Give it a listen, if you would.

Book of Job Seatrain Song of Job

A great Seatrain song and great story

T. Rex (band) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Oh my... this gentleman, Marc Bolan and his band introduced me to many things. Probably the first Glam Rocker that I got into... (quickly followed by David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust)... the subtle art of raunchy lyrics and overt sexual distraction to boggle the mind... mixed with good old fashioned rock-a-billy... all designed to entice you to dance til you dropped. Sigh. Here are a couple of samples for you... because one song cannot show you what T.REX was like. It's like saying Sees has chocolate. By the way... that Wakeman connection continues on thru here as well... their most popular hit "Bang A Gong (Get It On)" featured Rick on the keyboards. Besides, how can you not like a band with a guy in it named Stephen Peregrine Took! (Possibly of the Bag-End Tooks?)

20th Century Boy

20th Century Boy by T. Rex A fine example!

T- Rex - I Love To Boogie [totp2]

[Video] T- Rex - I Love To Boogie [totp2] (Wiggy St Helens UK 2005)

You may recall this song from the movie Billie Elliot.

By now you are catching on that I am not...was not constrained by genre in music any more than I am in books. Life gifts us with infinite variety in most things. Musically, I embraced it... still do.I hope you enjoyed your trip in my musical way-back machine from the mind of late 60s and early 70s Bliss.


All of these albums are doors that open from one realm to another into another and so on up the line. If each one had a thread... together they weave through each other and form a great tapestry that is my musical reality. Gosh I love it here.


I'm not going to be here for a few days. If I can I will leave Part 3 for Sat./Sun. post. But I am running out of time fast and still have two batches of cookies to make before my family mutinies and forces me to walk the plank... not to mention I have now commited to Macaroons for the Deerslayer this trip... causing Squeaky to shout "You can make macaroons too? this is unbelievable! " I made a concession in his favor and agreed to make him oatmeal cookies with crasins in them instead of raisins.


Goodness... what a demanding thing he is. The driving lesson today was divine... I told him that if he wanted pop he had to drive down town to the market. He whined, but he made it just fine. But the idea of detours and flag people just about did him in, until he saw that they had left for the day. hee hee... should I have told him instead of making him sweat it out? Naw.
Hey... I've lost two more pounds! Very cool beans. :-)

MY 15 / PART 1

IF you were here yesterday, you know that this post is about my picks for the 15 albums that most influenced me musically. It is a very personal list with little rhyme or reason. Just what I feel moved me in the directions my musical taste wandered. It was inspired by this post 15 Recordings, As Chosen By Donatello, With Mine To Follow
and encouraged by Suldog himself.




OOOOOkaaaaaay... As Alvin would have said. This is the beginning of musical influences in my life. Maybe its because I grew up in Fresno California... where Dave a.k.a

Ross Bagdasarian, Sr. was born and later created the fab three rodent stars. It's natural that they would have had an impact on my young life. I used to play this album to death. I still sing the song below when no one is listening and I feel like amusing my inner child.

Alvin and the Chipmunks- I Wish I Had a Horse

Another very important musical influence from that period of time was Pete Seeger - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia who came to my grammar school, T.L. Heaton, and sang to us in our Hattie May Hammet Hall. As he sang, used his storytelling skills and played the banjo, he gave me one of the greatest childhood memories of my life. I will never forget shaking his hand. He ties in musically throughout my life via Arlo Guthrie to the Dropkick Murphys and countless others in between. A kind and wonderful man and musician. I hope you got to see the recent PBS special about him. He is... in my personal humble opinion... one of our greatest American musical treasures.




Though I admit while I know what I like... I am no musician myself and have trouble carrying so little as a tune. This period of time was full of Chipmonks and Sing A Long With Mitch Miller and a symphony rendition of this fellow's work titled...

Pictures at an Exhibition (Mussorgsky, Modest Petrovich) - IMSLP ...

The Gnome was my favorite and I could whirl like a dervish all over the living room as it played. My father had been a jazz trumpet player once upon a time. Music was all over our house. It was unfortunate that I was musically deficient. But I did love it.

My father gave me this album for Christmas one year. I was completely bamboozled by this action. Had I asked Santa for this? NO!

Yet when I listened to it, I fell in love with Johnny Cash's smokey velvety storyteller's voice. The combination of music and story is still intoxicating to me. Johnny Cash is responsible for my love of lyrics. Even when he was not writing his own songs, he had a great ear for the stories in other writer's songs.

I know that I have told this story before... how my brother and sister influence my musical taste by giving me the albums they had purchased and cast off as unwanted.This album by Cream opened up all the doors and windows in my head.For the first time the stories in there could become, instead of merely being heard.

This is not the Zeppelin album that my sister gave me. But it is the album that I love most. Not only can you listen to it... you can play with it. There's a wheel between the cover and the inner jacket that turns... there are several cut outs where the pictures on the wheel below them can be changed as you thumb the wheel at the side. Hours and hours were spent twirling this wheel as I listened... enjoyed... giggled.

This is where my childhood merged with my more adult tastes...

Remember the little dervish child who twirled to The Gnome?

On this album Emmerson, Lake and Plamer blended my good old Mussorgsky with their brand of rock and created an extraordinary exhibition of their own.

EMERSON LAKE & PALMER - Promenade & The Gnome

ELP en Pictures at an Exhibition - Promenade_The Gnome_Promenade Concierto . Disfrutalo . Enjoy

I am not a musician , I am a listener. What you see here is entirely from the point of view of a listener. The albums are not really in any particular order. They are in chaos, like my files in my head... and connect in ways that are mind boggling at best. It is not uncommon for me to link from one group to another because one member of a band moves to another band... and drags me behind.

I make musical connections based on a great many things... like did you know that Black Sabbith, Yes and Jabberwocky are all connected at the "Wakeman"... meaning Oliver, Adam and Rick Wakeman? (Oliver and Adam are Rick Wakeman's sons.) Or that I found Yes... because I loved the Strawbs and followed Rick Wakeman to Yes.

My favorite line from the Strawbs is "For he had yet to suffer!"

Delivered in a way that makes me want that guy to suffer.

I like almost all music. I appreciate it for a lot of reasons... the lyrics and melodies, sounds, people, stories, voices, humor, emotions evoked... etc. None of my tastes are based on any knowledge of anything I can put a solid finger on. I know only what I hear that I like for whatever reason it strikes me as a keeper.

There will be two more installments on this subject. I had to split them up... I'm too darned chatty to get it out in one post or even two. I hope you enjoy something here... today, tomorrow and the next day.

Have a wonderful Thursday... you might want to think of a "15 recordings list" yourself and join the fun.



Life with the frogs continues to be fun and interesting. Today another driving lesson for Squeaky... yikes. I baked those cookies and hid them under the frozen veggies where the boy will never look. ha. I'm just working for the weekend... to steal a line from Loverboy. Its almost here. Big grin.