what if your band released four albums in four years and they were these four: Aerosmith, Get Your Wings, Toys in the Attic and Rocks? hahaha. Yeah, we’re watching Steven Tyler, JLo and Randy J. on American Idol every week, Steve and the kids and I. (Note to self: Get Steve hooked on American Idol. Check!) And all I think when I see Steven Tyler is, His first album came out in ’73 and I remember when it was released. OK, that’s bad enough, I’m so freaking ancient. Not as ancient as him, but still.

But my copy? We didn’t have a lot of money when I was a kid, so buying a new album (or 45, more like, more in my price range), it was a big deal. When my friend gave me a copy (I was 12 by then) it was such a gesture of love. He’d been carrying this album with him everywhere (his family moved a lot, including back and forth across the country, between Oregon and Washington, and Oklahoma and Missouri). It was broken right in half — just the very edge, maybe three inches or so into the record? He was heartbroken and couldn’t afford another copy. And they didn’t have a record player by then. When your dad likes to play the dogs and the horses, food and rent and everything else come last place in the family budget.

And you can sell a record player and buy a few drinks. So he gave me his copy. When I played it, I’d just snap the edges back together and rock out. We both liked Movin’ Out and Mama Kin. “Living out your fantasy/sleeping late and smoking tea…” And Dream On, of course, but who didn’t? And One Way Street. Who am I kidding? We just loved the hell out of that record, but those were our favorites.

Oh, my God. Our childhoods, growing up in that neighborhood. Whenever my kids kvetch, I ask them, Do you know how to drive yet? (They’re 8 and 11.) Get on it, because in my old neighborhood, we all learned to drive by the time we were 12.

(Let’s say, for example, you’re at the track with your dad. Not my dad, he was long-gone, but my friend’s dad. Drunk dad = you better know how to drive his drunk ass home.)

“You’re lucky you don’t have to drive your drunk daddy home! You’re lucky you don’t have to go get a job helping the guys at the gas station, cuz your mom doesn’t have enough money to support you! I started babysitting when I was 9! We all worked!” At that point they’re all, Here, I’ll set the table, OK? Calm the cuss down, Mama.

So Aerosmith meant a lot to this little rocker. And still does.

The End.

conversation between my ma, my son, and me:

Mom: “I’m going to the movies this weekend. We’re going to see this one about Mother Maybelle and the Carters…”

Wacky Boy: “You gonna see ‘Little Fockers’?”

Mom: “No, no we’re not. It’s about the Carter Family, you know them?”

me: “Sure he does!” (i start singing “Keep on the Sunny Side.” He shushes me. Yes, he’s nearly nine and he shushes us.)

Wacky Boy: “So why aren’t ya gonna see ‘Little Fockers’?”

Mom: “I’m just not that sophisticated, I guess.”

just kidding. it’s re-run day, i’m late for work!

“That Spirit of Christmas”

all u need is love

Lemon Bundt Cake

“Sisters” and… how can I resist…

Christmas at the Grotto

“…to defend and conserve oneself as a human being in the fullest, truest sense, one must defend and conserve many others and much else. What would be the hope of being personally whole in a dis-membered society, or personally healthy in a land scalped, scraped, eroded, and poisoned, or personally free in a land entirely controlled by the government, or personally enlightened in an age illuminated only by TV?” — Wendell Berry

and, one of my late father’s favorite songs:

“…once my heart was filled with the love of a girl/
I held her close, but she faded in the night/
Like a poem I meant to write/
And the leaves that are green turn to brown…”

Everybody out there, i hope you have a great weekend.

xo

wm

when i was 12, my aunt’s boyfriend bought her a Corvette. she picked me up and we cruised and cruised all over the neighborhood in the sunshine. we stopped by my friends’ houses and they were all, WOW COOL CAR and this song came on and she sang to it really loud (guess which lines?) and that, my friends, was a perfect afternoon. you just rarely achieve that sort of nirvana, people, so when you do, grab it up with both hands.

peace and happy holidays,

wm

It was from one of my editors, when I worked at the university newspaper. and once he realized that i loved every single one of these songs even more than he did… he said…

“Awww, Nancy, just go on and keep it, cuz at least you were honest about it.”

And… the thief is rewarded for her honesty, once again.

Here’s a partial songlist, I’ll add more as they come to me (naw, they’re not in the same order they were on the tape):

“The Race is On, “George Jones (not the stinkin’ Grateful Dead version, bleeeeeeeeeech)

a bunch of nasty songs by Bessie Smith that were sooooooooo good. (these ones don’t show up on YouTube, sorry ;)

“Milk Cow Blues” and “Stay All Night (Stay a Little Longer)”, Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys

“I Couldn’t Believe it Was True,” Willie Nelson

“Crazy” and/or “Walking After Midnight” (can’t remember for sure), Patsy Cline

“Bartender’s Blues,” by George Jones

“Take This Job and Shove It,” by Johnny Paycheck

“My Bucket’s Got a Hole In It,” Hank Williams

“If You Got the Money,” by Merle Haggard

Have decided not to drop out of grad school, btw. Just sayin’. In case you were worried.

Funny scene from restaurant last night:

We were seated next to a table full of drunk, white, middle-aged couples. Whereas we are middle-aged, we were not drunk, giving us the upper hand when it comes to recounting this story.

“Jungle Boogie” starts playing over the speakers. One of the women jumps up, starts dancing in the aisle, spanking her own ass, etc. Honestly to Mike, if there’s anything worse than a drunk white lady spanking her own ass and dancing to Kool & the Gang in the suburbs, well. At the moment I cannot think what that worse thing would be.

The waiter stops by with the check. I’m all, Are you catching this? He says, Yeah, I’m changing the station right now. This waiter has really grown on me — we talk literature all the time — this is our family’s usual spot, we’re there once a week or so. I told him he needs to give up waiting tables for now and just get into Columbia, Berkeley, Reed, whatever it takes. His response is always, Eh. Yeah, someday. Then he gives me another reading list: “Feed,” “Brave New World,” “The Master and Margarita.” “You’ve never read ‘Animal Farm’? Seriously?” (…and you claim to be a teacher, woman? haha.) I don’t care for dystopian fiction, so much, it’s Steve and Wacky Girl’s thing more than mine, but my students are nuts for it. I need to at least attempt to keep up.

He flips the station. The drunks are disappointed. “Awwwwwww, you changed the station!”

“Yeah,” he says, flip, “Who doesn’t love Foghat?”

and…

who knew I had another paper due? uh, I did? way back there in the far recesses of what is left of my brain. so that means music, folks. I could watch and listen to this video 3 or 4 times a day and still not get sick of it. my family would though, so I resist the urge to repeatedly stare at Stewart Copeland’s arms. Sting i can do without, nowadays, but i do love the old, old stuff.

back to writing, and i wish you auf wiedersehen, for now.

— wm

is that my favorite song? no, but this is:

i like it when Josh Turner turns upside down.

really, ttfn, i need to get to sleep soon!