Squint Your Eyes, And Look Closer...

I'll let Ani do the talking on this penultimate song on the countdown.

Folk rock primer on me.

squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster
i am thirty-two flavors and then some
and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might wanna turn your head
'cuz some day you are going to get hungry
and eat most of the words you just said

both my parents taught me about good will
and i have done well by their names
just the kindness i've lavished on strangers
is more than i can explain
still there's many
who've turned out their porch lights
just so i would think they were not home
and hid in the dark of their windows
'til i passed and left them alone

god help you if you are an ugly girl
course too pretty is also your doom
'cuz everyone harbors a secret hatred
for the prettiest girl in the room
and god help you if you are a phoenix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying past

i never tried to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
and i would like to state for the record
i did everything that i could do
i not saying that i'm a saint
i just don't wanna live that way
i will never be a saint
but i will always say

squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster
i am thirty-two flavors and then some
and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might wanna turn your head
'cuz some day you might find you are starving
and eating all of the words that you said...

32 Flavors - Ani DiFranco

It Doesn't Really Matter What Chords I Play, What Words I Say, Or Time Of Day It Is...

One of my all time favorites, and the theme song to my all-music blog, which I'm saying good bye to at the end of this project. It's been silent for a while, and I have some great writing there, but I won't be contributing there anymore. It was a glorious time in my online life, and I enjoyed so much of what I was able to create by that collaboration.

So, in these last three days, I pay it tribute, and thank my co-conspirator for a few years of creativity and enthusiasm, and wish those words and notes well.

And I told you there's no one there...

Only A Northern Song - The Beatles

You're Taking Me Back To The Places I Left Behind

I could probably post a song from Bob every day for the next month, and still not capture all the moments he has sung for me over the years.

In these final days, I give you this one for a little bit of perspective on growing older, wiser, seeing the past for its glitter and cobwebs. What the fuck kicked up all this dust?

I loved this album because it spoke to the journey, and where he was, and in some ways where I was. Adult love stories and a healthy dose of skepticism. It's all good, though.

Life and Times - Bob Mould

Lord Knows I've Paid Some Dues Getting Through...

A heavy hitter that I'm amazed I haven't posted yet. I only have a few more days of this project, and I'm combing through my spreadsheet to make sure I haven't forgotten any one. I know Friday's and Saturday's songs already; I've known them since I started this project. Just need to fill Wednesday and Thursday :)

I may have lived parts of this song. I know I've felt it. Our great American poet.

Tangled Up In Blue - Bob Dylan

And I Do Appreciate You Being Around

I witnessed a very special event in the life of one of Christopher's relatives tonight, a hard earned milestone that is at once private as well as courageous, and I was privileged to be there.

In the midst of all this grief, and awkwardness, there is the understanding that "life is not always fair, but life is good". In the midst of all this challenge, the pursuit of joy is always present.

Help! - The Beatles

#3 Might Have The Car But #43 Has Got The Nerve

My first NASCAR race today, in Loudon, NH, and I'm pretty certain it won't be my last. I spent many years being actively scornful of NASCAR, right up to the moment I first rode in Christopher's car. Christopher's NASCAR branded Chevy Monte Carlo. I took a deep breath and decided to keep an open mind. My love for Christopher is not based on wheels.

Although, his love of NASCAR has certainly been influential. He's very slowly introduced me to pieces of the sport and the culture he thought I might find interesting. And I did. We'd then watch a piece of a race here, a race day summary there, and then finally, a whole race on television one Saturday night. Then, the movie Cars. More articles. And lastly, today's race.

There are parts of this fandom that I'm likely ALWAYS going to have trouble accessing, the country music and rebel flag pieces being two that come to mind immediately. But there are parts of other sports whose fan culture rubs me the wrong way too; I mean, crazy gear is crazy gear, be it a shirt with sponsor patches or shaving your head to tattoo the flying Elvis Pats logo on to it. Extreme. But not all fans have Pats tattoos, and not all NASCAR fans are rednecks.

The race itself was really interesting. I was able to see cars battling for position, the tactics they use to speed up, to try and pass, to gain an edge, and that's fascinating to watch. The experience itself is all 5 senses--sight, sound, smell, hearing, touch, as the seats vibrate as the cars race past. I watched a blind man and his escort stand close to the fence and he would raise his hands to feel the vibrations every time the cars passed him. I tried it once myself, and I could feel the rush in my palms. Visceral.

Am I completely hooked? No. Am I definitely more than a casual fan. Probably. This sport is so much more than "drive fast, turn left". So much more.

Daddy's Cup - The Drive-by Truckers

Stay Positive

It's been a weird week, for sure. Christopher's father passed on Thursday afternoon, and for much of this week, today's plans were on hold, or likely me going solo. But, Christopher has decided that he wants to keep our weekend outings. I'm glad; it will do us good.

So, today is the Life is Good Festival in Canton, MA. We are likely to skip the early afternoon acts, butat 4:15, The Hold Steady take the main stage. He's never seen them before, and well, you all know how I am about them. A good song for today; hopefully the weather holds. Another stop on the pursuit of joy.

Stay Positive - The Hold Steady

Birthday Greetings

In honor of September 23 being the birthday of both Bruce Springsteen and Ani DiFranco, I bring you an Ani cover of a Bruce tune from the "Badlands" album. Enjoy.

Used Cars - Ani DiFranco

Swan, Swan, Hummingbird, Hurrah, We're All Free Now

So, the first alternative band I fell head over heels for finally called it a night yesterday. 31 years of mumbles and poetry, and jangly guitars, they made me joyous for many many years.

I had the chorus of this song written in Sharpie around the bottom hem of my denim jacket in high school. For no reason other than to be as obscure as the words themselves. This is one of my favorite songs of theirs, and it makes no real sense; it allows you to construct your own context. Which was one of the great joys of this band. Godspeed, Berry, Buck, Mills, and Stipe.

Swan Swan H - R.E.M.

Never A Cloudy Day

Between Christopher's unrepentant metal genes, and my deep alternative rock roots, the fact that "our song" is this one never ceases to amaze me.  But, it is.

We saw Earth Wind and Fire in May; I learned that Christopher bought those tickets and booked the room two days after we met.  He just knew.  I may not have been quite as sure early on, but I caught up quickly. That night was glorious.  We dressed up, ate an amazing meal, and danced and danced and sang.  He and I had already established the pursuit of joy as our theme, and this night was no exception.

This song has taken on a life of its own in our personal language.  The line from the chorus, "never a cloudy day" has become our centering phrase, our goal, that moment we come back to time and time again.  When things are going well, it confirms that joy.  When we are struggling through an awkward moment, or tension, or tears, at the end of it, one of us (usually him) takes a deep breath, and speaks that out loud, as if to show us the path back to center.  It is at once mantra, hope, reassurance, and a bold statement of love.  Never a cloudy day.

If we're out in public and this song starts playing, I stop whatever we're doing and point it out to him.  "Never a cloudy day, baby," he smiles, and then we instantly return to what we're doing.  This song, that phrase, is that moment we come back to when things get hard, and that statement of intent that keeps us going.  And some days will be cloudy, downright stormy with near zero visibility.  But, by keeping those words in our heads and our hearts it reminds us that this journey we're on has only just begun. So many days of happiness, sadness, fear, and risk, and ordinary moments, all rolled into four simple words that bind it all together.  Just like us.  It's all in front of us.

Never a cloudy day, baby. 

September - Earth Wind and Fire

Denim Blue, Fading Up To The Sky

For Bill...

Oh Very Young - Cat Stevens

You Can't Feel The Sun, Unless You Open Up Your Heart

So not relevant for my life anymore, but DAMN, did this song stop me in my tracks the first time I heard it. An old story from the music blog, as it's a terrific tale about Bob finally singing my life for real.

In November of 2007, Bob Mould did a small club tour to promote his Circle of Friends DVD. During that show, in the really intimate Paradise Lounge, in front of about 100 people, he played the embryonic version of, "I'm Sorry Baby, But You Can't Stand In My Light Anymore". As he told the crowd that night, he had just written that song the previous summer, while laid up with a broken ankle. I have thought about this song often since hearing it for the first time, and the finished version on "Life And Times", does not disappoint. Although, any song that sings your own life so succinctly wouldn't.

Usually, Ani takes the distinction of consistently singing "my" life. After all, we're contemporaries, women, moving through similar stages. Bob has definitely written songs that have informed my perspective, been similar to experiences of mine, songs that have become part of the fabric of my memories of certain people and places, but he's never written a song that could have been completley "about" me. As I sat there that night, listening to him and the acoustic guitar, I was thinking about the last six months of my life, and the relationship I'd just ended, and the phrase, "I'm sorry baby, but you can't stand in my light anymore," absolutely and utterly summarized why I needed that person gone. I was tired of the shadows, tired of feeling cold, tired of being shrouded from everything I knew. He lyrically moved through a list of all the reasons I broke off with Dale, every single one. After the set, as we were talking, I told him exactly this, and he just smiled, as if he knew this song would haunt me until he saw fit to release it.

This song gets a place in my personal canon, particularly in these last two weeks, as I wrap up this project and start moving towards songs I've saved, as they've sung the changes better than any others. I still love hearing him sing this one, even if every once in a while, I cry. Bob's the man, and my life, not just my musical life, but my actual life, is so much richer from his presence there.

I'm Sorry, Baby, But You Can't Stand In My Light Anymore - Bob Mould

There I Go, Turn the Page

Thinking about fathers this weekend.

My father was ever-present when I was a kid.  He came to all the dance recitals, school concerts, and graduations. He played silly games with us on the floor of the living room, tried to teach his girls to fish, and came home from hunting trips smelly and scruffy and happy to tell us about his adventure.  I remember going to his friend's house to have a "welcome home" party of sorts, donuts and coffee for the adults, and generally a deer hanging in the background somewhere.  Strange, I know, but those were exciting mornings; Dad was home.  We would go on vacations to the beach, and he would sit out, shirtless in cut-off jeans, grilling dinner, casting for blues in the evening. 

At night, when he would be home with us while Mom worked evenings; he'd listen to records while completing paperwork at the dining room table, or tending to his hunting and fishing gear.  Dad loved the FM radio; Led Zeppelin, the Who, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, so many others.  I fell asleep to Rumors or Live Bullet more times than I can remember.   

As my sisters and I got older, he attended fewer and fewer events.  Then, as we entered our 30s, he and my mother split.  For a long time, I was really angry with him, as I said to my mother once, "he ruined everything".  I've come down from that anger, but not that disappointment; as an adult, though, I know what kind of work it takes to make a marriage work, and I can see where they both disappointed each other.  Adult child syndrome, I guess.  And our relationship since then has been more distant.  Although, the really important things, he's there.  When we call him nervously for something, he's always there.  This past spring, when the tornadoes ran through the town where he lives, I talked to him many times that day.  I miss my dad, and he doesn't call often, but then, I don't either.  I realize this, and I know I need to be better in that regard.

I'm resolving to call my father more, even if it's for silly things, or just to say hi.  He's never been outgoing in that regard, so I can take that initiative to be in better contact.  As disappointed I may have been with him in the last decade, he's still my dad.

Turn The Page - Bob Seger

I Seem To Recognize Your Face

At the close of another really excellent Norwood Day, I leave you with this song that has always had echoes of what could have been in it, and makes me think of how Norwood could close you in, but if you work hard enough, you can embrace it and its faults anyway.

Happy Norwood Day :)

Elderly Woman... - Pearl Jam

Put On Your Red Shoes And Dance The Blues

This was the song that made me realize how much music ran in my mother's soul too.

It was always on in the house, AM radio in the mornings before school, in the car for errands and car pools, a record player in the living room always. But here I was 12 or 13 years old, finally discovering my own taste in music, and Bowie releases this song. Well, my mother starts watching MTV as obsessively as I did, waiting for a glimpse of this clip. And it all starts coming together for me; my mother was a FAN. A BIG fan. She bought this album, and a postcard to hang in her office cubicle, and suddenly re-embraced, at least openly, her love of popular music. Maybe it was "ok" to do so again.

But my mother's love of music, whether overt or implied, has permeated my whole life, as you well know. Besides this, she has given me many other gifts, a sense of responsibility and pride in family and community, the power to act responsibly and with caring and concern, strength, compassion for others, boundless love.

I am really blessed to have my mother and the relationship we share. She teaches me things every passing year, and as I become more connected in my community and watch her reconnect as well and be very active and involved, I am really, really proud when I meet people who tell me how much they admire my mother, and are grateful for what she gives to the community. And I realize how lucky I have been all my life to have her teaching me those lessons as well.

Let's Dance - David Bowie

Damn Right You'll Rise Again

The song that made me sit up and take notice of the band that will save rock and roll. There is nothing I don't love about this song, from the E-Street Band-esque organ in the background, the rambling lyrics, the hardcore shout-outs.

Some songs just make you BELIEVE. This is one of them.

Your Little Hoodrat Friend - the Hold Steady

Sweet Freedom Whispered In My Ear...

As I draw closer to the end of this project, I'm realizing I haven't posted some of my all time favorites yet. What was I waiting for on this particular song?

I am of the opinion that Elton should have stopped recording music somewhere around 1985. I may be in a minority, but, it's my countdown. I'll make all the grand sweeping generalizations I want.

This song, though? Epic.

Someone Saved My Life Tonight - Elton John

I'm A Brand New Sky To Hang The Stars Upon Tonight

I'm a new day rising...

Life is good. This may be one of the seminal tunes of my life. It kept me sane when I first heard it, and made me like the phoenix above some real darkness. My eternal love for Dave Grohl was solidified with this song.

I am soaring when I hear it. Pure joy.

Times Like These - The Foo Fighters

But What If They Should Fall By Someone's Wicked Way?

This song, and "There Goes My Hero" from the Foo Fighters may have been the only two songs I heard 10 years ago today, as I drove to and from work. WAAF suspended music programming and spent 48 hours, from the moment the planes hit, taking listener calls. In between callers, occasionally, they would play one of these two songs. Later in the year, they made special audio tracks for first responders from these.

Although I like the Foo better, this is the song that echoes in my head when I remember those first few days afterward.

Hero of the Day - Metallica

Dancing In A Sky Filled With Light

I think one of the biggest shared memories from 10 years ago is how blue the sky was that morning here in the North East.  It was perfect, a deep, vibrant, solid blue, a few fluffy clouds, the mid-morning sun warming us quickly.  Even now, people will see a sky that is similar, walk out to a morning with that same blue, that same warmth, and feel a quick chill.  A 9/11 sky, it’s now called.  Sometimes.

Math class did not go well that morning, as my students were restless, and not wanting to take the review quiz.  I walked slowly back to my co-teacher’s classroom, one of my best friends.  She pulled me aside, said, “something’s going on.  The office is all huddled around the radio.  Run down to the teachers room and see if you can see what’s happening.”  I turned on an old staticky set just after the second plane had hit. I froze, the image of the World Trade Center towers burning from 10 floors or so down, smoke pouring out of the gaping holes, debris falling.  I couldn’t decipher the scroll at the bottom of the screen; I managed to make out planes, and the Pentagon, and White House evacuated.  I staggered back to our classroom, and pulled Kristian aside.  “It’s really bad,” I said.  “Planes have crashed into the World Trade Center; they’re both on fire.” Despite my attempt to be quiet, a student heard us talking, and we made the decision to tell them what we saw.  At that moment, over the intercom came this announcement: “Staff, please check your email immediately.” An email, explaining in very brief terms that the towers had been attacked, as had the Pentagon, was waiting, along with instructions that under no circumstances were we to tell the students.  Whoops.

I remember very little else about that morning.  The internet being frozen, so no updates from our desk.  The sixth grade had their free periods back to back at the end of the day that Tuesday, and I remember us all crammed into the media room in the library, watching Channel 5, and the endless replay of the towers collapsing.  The stricken looks on the anchors’ faces, the constant replaying.  The realization that some of that debris I saw were people jumping to their deaths.  I remember Steve standing next to me, ashen.  I remember crumpling and sitting on the floor sobbing at some point.  Later, the announcement came that all after school activities were cancelled, and that staff and students should go immediately home.  We were all in the hallways saying good bye to the kids as they left, many of them scared and anxious, rushing to get home.  Many others had been dismissed by their parents earlier in the day.  Standing in the hall near my classroom, I thought, “how are we supposed to tell them everything will be ok, when we don’t even know if it will be ok? Ever?  How do we teach THIS??”

School wasn’t cancelled, nor was our parent night on September 12.  Our administration made the wise decision to keep doing what we needed to do.  I remember breaking in to tears during my ride to and from work, more than once, remember trying not to cry in front of the kids, lots of hushed conversations and futile attempts to hide front pages of newspapers they likely saw at home anyway. Trying to live normally when everything felt like some insane horror film.  One day at a time.

A year later, hearing “The Rising” album, and knowing it was Bruce’s answer to this tragedy, and that morning came flooding back in flashes and snippets, but what I hold on to from that day is the blue.  He sings about images of life throughout this song, and much like those images, I hold that blue sky in my memory as my symbol of hope, that dream of life.  A universe that can produce that much beauty and horror in one moment, and leave me with the beauty as its lasting impression will rise above the evil.  Because we will make it so.

Come on up for the rising, come on up, lay your hands in mine.  Come on up for the rising, come on up for the rising tonight.
 
The Rising - Bruce Springsteen

The Only Baggage You Can Bring

This morning, Christopher and I joined friends of his for a charity walk for ALS. His friend lost his mother to the disease many years ago, and his family organized this walk in her honor. It was a beautiful morning, and I was glad to be a part of their tribute today.

Tonight, it was a home-cooked dinner, and watching the race on TV, and just enjoying a simple night at home. So far, a good weekend.

Walk On - U2

I'll Explain Everything To The Geeks

Christopher and I saw the National at Bank of America Pavilion last night (yes, we're a day late here). They were really fun to see; The National are a very ethereal, lost in the mist kind of band on record, but live, they have a real fullness and warmth to them. Tremendous show.

Two highlights: the second to last song, About Today, Matt Berringer came out in to the crowd and worked his way through, while singing. Second, Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks. Acoustic, as in, the band assembled at the front of the stage, without mics, singing just loud enough for the crowd to hear, and we sang the rest. It was beautiful. I sang along, and Christopher listened to me sing, because apparently he thinks I can.

Terrific night of musical joy under the big tent.

Vanderlyle CryBaby Geeks - The National

Yeah, He Does

This one's for Kevin...

My great mistake. Well, our great mistake. Young and foolhardy and more than a little smitten at first. By the time one of us took a breath, the rings were on our fingers and I wondered how the hell we got here.

I was a bitch, and deserved to be unforgiven, and was for a long time. Then, over a lot of whiskey and beer, at the end of the night in a club in Boston, we finally talked. What weeks of therapy, and long nights of screaming, and too many instances of betrayal never sorted out, a Bob Mould show did. And I was forgiven. A truly weird conversation, and one of the most freeing ones I've ever had. Plus, hearing him say, "You were right, you know,"? You can't make that stuff up, even if you try.

My father? Well, apparently he never liked Kevin. Such as it were. But even my sisters will agree, great guy, just not MY guy. And there's a huge difference.

This song came to me years later, but the moment I heard it, I heard Kevin singing it. The Truckers are amazing songwriters, and usually deal in vivid, almost graphic imagery in their lyrics, but in this song, it's all about the mood. That poignant realization, that soft and satisfied goodbye.

"Happiness for your big adventure,
See you, darlin', down the line..."

And that's how it's been since that weird night in 2003, calm, and cordial, and a big adventure once I was released.

People always ask if you could do it over, would you change things? It's a really dumb question. Even when you're doing phenomenally stupid and hurtful things, those make you what you are, and teach you lessons that allow you to grow. So, no, I wouldn't change it, as much as it hurt, and as awful as I acted. I know where the edge is now, and how to stay away from it.

Your Daddy Hates Me - The Drive-by Truckers

I'm The Innocent Bystander

Eight years ago, we lost a great talent. Wonderfully warm, sardonic, twisted, I grew up listening to his songs via my uncle Jay. Seven years old, I could sing the lyrics to this song. Explains a lot, I think :)

My uncle, only 10 years older than I, introduced me to some tremendous classic rock. I thank him for those formative tunes.

Lawyers, Guns and Money - Warren Zevon

You Can Do What You Want, The Opportunity's On

Today was the first day of school for many of my friends and family. For me, it was not a great start. Low to medium level chaos for most of the day, and a three hour meeting with my director, writing a response to a complaint against my school, which is not looking good for us, I must say. Tiring, and I missed yoga, which I really needed today, too.

Instead of focusing on all the negative, though, I decided to spread a little good cheer on Facebook, and tried to message all of my teacher friends from my former district and my Ireland crew. And, since I missed yoga, I had time to stop by my sister's house and see how the first day unfolded there. Colleen's first day back in the classroom after an extended leave, Max's first day of fourth grade, Grace starting a new day care, Darrin's second year as principal, AND, Ben's first day of middle school.

Middle school. Ben is one of "my crowd" now. I can't believe it sometimes, that he's 11 years old. It seemed like only yesterday I was changing his diaper and entertaining/distracting him by singing this song to him. He loved to hear me sing this one; it always made him laugh. Plus, it's such a perfect song to sing to a child: "well there's a million things to do, you know that there are..."

So, on this first day of his very new, very big adventure into adolescence, I want to continue to wish him this song.

If you want to sing out, sing out,
And if you want to be free, be free,
'Cuz there's a million things to be,
You know that there are...

If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out - Cat Stevens

Come Monday, I'll Be Holding You Tight

Alright, not on the official BBQ list, but it should be. What other song could I possibly play today?

I remember when Jimmy's Labor Day Weekend shows were in Mansfield; those were some of the best concert tailgates I ever attended. This song was always well-received.

Come Monday, it'll be alright. Hope your weekend was grand.

Come Monday - Jimmy Buffett

I Close My Eyes, And She Slips Away

There are few songs out there more classic, more meant for sunny days and open roads than this one. Iconic local song, everyone loves this one. I can't believe it hasn't shown up on this soundtrack yet, but there it is.

Enjoy. Loudly.

More Than A Feeling - Boston

A Pocket Is No Place For a Smile Anyway

The final "official" weekend of summer is here. There's been baseball. There will be a wedding tomorrow, some relaxed hanging out, too. To commemorate, the weekend's songs will all be from the BBQ playlist I've been grooving to for weeks now. Maybe we'll actually have a BBQ to play it at.

Tonight, we're hanging out with sister Kate. Brockton Rox.

The Mountains Win Again - Blues Traveler

Last Night's Red Dress

Stepping through brilliant shades of all the color you bring...

This song has always been delicious to me. Still is, even more now.

Central Reservation - Beth Orton

Like My Back Ain't Got No Bone

Christopher and I went to see B.B. King at the North Shore Music Theater last night (meaning "today" as this should be yesterday's post), and I had never seen him before, so this was going to be an interesting show for me.  Two great opening bands, one a country rock trio, and the second a rhythm and blues trio, that really shone.  Evan Goodnow Band, I believe.  B.B. took the stage with an eight-piece band and an entourage to help him up there and to his seat.  Some, "observations" about the show...

Whitest.crowd.ever.  It was actually confusing.

When one is 85 years old and a legend, you don't have to stand to play guitar anymore.  In fact, when one is 85 years old and a legend, you can let the band do most of the heavy lifting and play mostly accent notes all night. ;)

When one is 85 years old and a legend, you can get bored in the middle of a song and start playing something else.

Still, an excellent night in terms of musical bucket list acts, and Christopher and I are good at concerts together.  Fun time, good music, and a good way to wind down a long and trying work day.



B.B. King - Rock Me Baby