Listen, There's Music In The Air

A lovely afternoon in Provincetown today, to hear Bob read from his book. After which, he inscribed mine, "Dear Courtney, Thank you for all the years of friendship and support. Bob Mould"

Lots of happy bears roaming the streets, including a colleague. Everybody living their life, doing their thing. I sat on the deck of the Aqua Bar, drinking a PBR, watching the ocean, missing Christopher. But, it was still a good day.

See A Little Light - Bob Mould

If I Leave You, It Doesn't Mean I Love You Any Less

This morning, listening to NPR, they concluded a story about the funeral of a MA soldier recently killed in Iraq, under "non-combat circumstances". One of his senior officers told NPR he was shot on base. No matter the circumstance, a soldier's death is always hard for family, friends, and community.

The end of the story had a music bed, which was an acoustic rendition of this song. Whether it was from the soldier's funeral, or an unidentified cover, I don't know, nor care. I began to cry, hard, at the wheel of my car, in the driving rain, at how sad this story truly is. My friend Meaghan later told me this soldier was one of her brother's recruits. Six degrees of separation, I guess.

I have always adored this song, for its place in Warren's canon, the sentiment behind it, its simplicity and beauty and frailty. When I die, someone should sing this because it will be what I want to say to you all when I go.

Shadows are falling and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for awhile

If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for awhile

When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for while

There's a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done
Keep me in your heart for while

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for while

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for while

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for while

Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you

Engine driver's headed north to Pleasant Stream
Keep me in your heart for while

These wheels keep turning but they're running out of steam
Keep me in your heart for while

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for while

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for while

Keep me in your heart for while

Gonna Get Myself Connected

So, Friday morning I woke up to no internet connection. After completing all the typical trouble shooting activities, I called my internet provider and determined that my router had finally died. However, I have internet service that has a proprietary router (coaxial connection), so I couldn't just go out and buy a new one. They told me they were shipping me a new router, and that it would be here by Tuesday.

TUESDAY?!?!?

Well, fortunately, it arrived well ahead of schedule. However, having already prepared myself mentally for a weekend of only being connected to the world wide web via my phone, I chose to continue to live my life with just that connection, and wait for a time that was convenient and quiet to re-wire my life. So, that's the reason for my absence.

I did think of songs of the day, which I have posted as make-up songs below this post. Enjoy them, and I hope you enjoyed your weekend. My vacation is over, and it's back to the grind tomorrow. Sigh... not ready.

Connected - Stereo-MC's

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You Were In My Dream

My mother lost a good friend yesterday, suddenly, to a heart attack. It's not the first for her; several years ago, she lost two close friends, a married couple, within a year of each other to cancer. They were devastating losses for her, and whereas all deaths are hard, some shake you more than others. I know this because in my relatively short time here, I've buried four of my peers, and each one is a pain all to itself.

The first was Darren, when I was 19, a suicide by hanging. A friend from the neighborhood, he was dying of AIDS, and hung himself from the depression that a certain Boston hospital would not treat, as their policy at the time (1991) was to isolate patients with AIDS. I've written about him before.

The next was Peter, also from the neighborhood, a mere 7 years later. Work-related accident. A Gulf War veteran, he left behind a wife and a barely tw0 year-old girl. In 2009, the neighborhood buried his sister Rosemary, who died from a brain tumor. It's left me feeling slightly cursed.

The worst to bear was Andrew. One of my high school friends, so very near and dear to my heart; he took his life in 2003, which sent me into a period of darkness I struggled to emerge from. Andrew is with me every single day of my life; the year Grace was born, he was particularly "present" in the atmosphere. He seemed to be floating nearby, singing from the beyond and sending love in that boundless energetic way he always did. I see sun dogs in the sky from time to time, and I say hello to him, as he was the person who pointed out that phenomenon to me. The other night, C and I were sitting here in the living room, talking, and I was telling him this story, and Cat Stevens popped up on shuffle (The shuffle knows, always), and I laughed and actually told him to go away, I was busy. But he's there, one of the ghosts in my life. And whereas his death rocked me to my very core, knowing him, I understand that he would want me to keep living and breathing and feeling and loving every moment of my life, to its fullest capacity. So he sends me love in times of great hardship, and he sends me love in times of great joy.

The ones we love never really leave us when they go. They don't; I believe this fully. Just like this song, they are in my dreams, driving circles around me. And I wouldn't wish them away for anything.

Your Ghost - Kristen Hirsch

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You Never Planned on the Bombs In the Sand

Mom's Fight for Burial Near Son Leads to New Law

The soldier in this story, Corey, was one of my students my first year teaching in middle school. He was funny, caring, a huge hockey fan (he deliberately wore a Buffalo Sabres sweatshirt to class during a Bruins/Sabres playoff series to provoke me), and a terrible writer. He used to check in with me, even after he wasn't my student, just to say hi, talk hockey, whatever was on his mind. Seeing his face all over the news this morning (and a bit last night, too) has been really hard. And seeing the state his mother is in is even harder.

When we decide to be teachers, we have all these grand ideals of working with kids, helping them reach their potential, become learners, thinkers, productive citizens. Military funerals, any type of funeral, really, never figure in to that equation. For every soldier that makes that sacrifice, not only is there family grieving and friends grieving, but a teacher grieving the student he or she once knew, remembering the child that forgot their homework, shared their artwork, talked about their home life, aced a test and celebrated, helped a friend on the playground.

So send a little light and love Corey's mother's way, and to our troops, and to the teachers who stand to the side at those funerals and grieve a child they lost, too.

Dress Blues - Jason Isbell

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Red Red Wine

And not the UB40 version. The song is The Replacements. The reason is I'm off to a wine tasting fundraiser with some great girlfriends.

Red, Red, Wine - The Replacements

(Tinysong is awesome when you can't get an mp3).

Off to find something Spanish. Or Argentinan.

Not a Pretty Girl

Ms. DiFranco is going to show up quite a bit in this endeavor, so let me set the stage with this heavy hitter.

In graduate school, I took a course called Curriculum and Instruction, and one of the assignments in this course was to develop our personal educational philosophy regarding curriculum. By the end of this course, my life, as I knew it at that time, would have fallen apart; at this point, I was just trying to leave work early enough to make the class on time.

The introductory work to this assignment was to come to class with simply a personal statement; a piece of art, literature, music. Something we felt defined who we were. At the time of my studies, I was working part time at the Gap, and was friends with a girl who insisted I start listening to Ani DiFranco. I'd heard her album "Dilate" and I enjoyed it. She was insistent that I go further into her catalog. So, I had recently picked up the album, "Not a Pretty Girl". I listened to that album, alone, in my study room in the apartment I shared with my husband at the time, and I suddenly realized she was singing my life. From the brazen "Shy", which was NOT directed at my husband, to the plaintive and remorseful, "Sorry I Am", which was, every note seemed to echo an experience I was living at that moment. Two songs stood out from all the rest, my "theme"song, "32 Flavors" and the title track, which I initially thought to be my soundtrack. And it is, when I'm angry and trying to prove a point. It took me a while to discern the difference, but at that moment, I took "Not a Pretty Girl" as my own.

If you look at the lyrics to this song, it is a woman asserting herself in the face of adversity, a woman saying, I can handle this, and I can handle you, despite what you initially believed. And I needed that song at that moment, because sitting in the back of that class was a woman who, as a girl, was on the fringes of the group of girls who TORTURED me throughout elementary school. So, on my assigned day, I brought in my portable stereo, and my Ani cd, and I hit play, stood at the front of the room with my arms folded and stared down the room. I'm pretty sure that's the day Thom decided he was in love with me, and speeded the unraveling of my life, but that's another story for another day (and another song, too).

So, the fierce side of me loves this song. The fierce side of me will stick this song right in your face and force you to take note. The fierce side of me has never believed she was a pretty girl, and is still surprised when someone says otherwise. Still, put me down, punk. I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere ;)

Not a Pretty Girl - Ani DiFranco

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That'll Keep You Going Through The Show

Sometimes, the soundtrack can be what's currently happening, as well. Tonight, I'm going to see Roger Waters stage "The Wall" at the Garden in Boston. I realize that sentence technically should be about 30 years old, AND, back in the day, the closest the official "Wall" tour came to New England was Nassau Coliseum, but still, it's going to be a classic rock/ghosts of my youth kind of day today.

Hello, is there anybody in there...?

And Everywhere We Go, The Sun Won't Always Shine

This is Our Lady of Clonfert. If you read her legend, you will see she is a survivor.



This is Our Lady's prayer. I almost didn't discover this prayer. I was feeling tired that afternoon, and didn't want to get off the bus and go into this tiny, ordinary, modern church to see the Madonna they pulled from the bog. But, she called me, and I went in to look. I picked up the Mass Card near the statue and read her prayer, and dug around for euros because I knew I needed to have this prayer with me when I went back home.

Our Lady of Clonfert, I come to you, as one of your children, who will never forget the importance of a woman like you. I come because I believe in you. I come to say thanks for the past and the present and ask you to bless me in the future.

You know me, you know how I live and you know my needs. Please help me especially when I need you most. I have problems, worries, and anxieties the same as everyone else--help me to cope. So often I would just love to give up when life hurts me and people betray me, but give me the courage never to lose heart.

Bless my family, my life, and my friends. Help me, no matter what happens to me in life, to believe, to trust, and to hope. Our Lady of Clonfert, Pray for us.

I'm not offering up this prayer, or this song, for me tonight. But I am offering it up for someone. Praying that this person continues to believe, to trust, and to hope.

Beautiful - Christina Aguilera

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School Daze

So, the storm has begun, and I'm not talking Hurricane Earl.

A little light reading to get you all in the spirit.

Making healthier school lunches.

Evaluating teachers: who's getting the grades now? H/T to Dana, because here's the link to the database referenced in the NY Times article.

Our litigious nature: suing the school.

Happy New Year!

In Which I Admit To All Of My Women Friends How "Anti-Woman" I Really Am

By admitting, no, I take that back, CELEBRATING the fact that I hate Oprah. Have for years. Her book club of mediocre fiction, occasionally sprinkled with a less-worthy later work from a legendary writer (i.e. Toni Morrision), her damn magazine, her saccharine empathy, all of it. She makes me keep my television turned off in the afternoon for fear I'll actually catch her show. The last time I watched, under duress mind you, was when Ellen DeGeneres was on, talking about playing second fiddle on her cover this past holiday season. The best part about that show was the segment on Ellen and Portia's wedding, but I'm going to praise any accepting, positive depiction of gay marriage on television, and not simply because Oprah told me it was ok. I hate Oprah.

And, apparently, this columnist does as well.

I read each of Jennifer's with a "yes, yes, RESOUNDING YES," falling from my lips as I went through each point. The fat hater comment was particularly interesting. Combined with her perpetual non-relationship with Steadman, and her sucking up to celebrities, it's clear that Oprah really does hate herself, on a deep level, and the show and the magazine and the cult of personality is just her way of not dealing with self-loathing.

There. I said it. You can start the anti-woman chanting now. I can take it. As I am not anti-woman, nor do I hate myself. And neither you or Oprah can convince me otherwise. :)

Amen, Nick, Amen...

Keeping in touch with the things that help us feel alive – music, books, movies, even the theatre, if, mysteriously, you are that way inclined – becomes a battle, and one that many of us lose, as we get older; I don't think enough of our cultural pundits, people who write about that stuff for a living, fully understand this. It's one thing to have an opinion on Little Boots remixes if you earn your living hanging about in cyberspace; quite another if you're a full-time teacher with three kids.(source)

I'm begging you all to read this, today. I should put this up on my other site, too; in fact, I will cross post it, maybe with my other favorite quote from the article. Because those of you who know me well know that I live for the music I listen to every day. That I can define my life by the songs I'm listening to, and the artists I'm buying, and the playlists I make in my iTunes.

Plus, this is Nick Hornby saying this, and it was one of his books that inspired my other website, so, obviously, this is gospel to me.

Hysteria Is Ok, Sometimes. Particularly When Laundry Is Involved.

One of the myriad reasons I continue to read and love Dooce, all these years and kids later.

The Maytag saga.

I know, she has 80 gazillion followers, and certainly doesn't need me linking to her on my lowly little blog, but if there actually is one of my readers that doesn't already read dooce, or hasn't in a while, read this one. You will laugh. Trust me.

I am empathizing with the laundry, as the school year has started, and ironing is in my future, and I'd rather jab my eyes out with a fork. That way, I couldn't see the wrinkles in the clothes, so it wouldn't matter.

The Lion Sleeps

All week, Massachusetts has been mourning the passing of our senior Senator, Edward M. Kennedy. He was a tremendous man, tremendous in his successes, in his image, in his failings. And all week, I have found myself reflecting on what his legacy as a legislator has meant to my life. Nearly every cause I've fought for, my own profession, has somehow been shaped by his legislative influence, and mostly for good.

Those of us in politics, even lowly positions like School Committee, own the Senator a great debt of gratitude for his model of public service. As that is what we are, public servants. We are elected to be the voices of the people in our towns, to represent their voices on the boards that make decisions that affect their everyday lives. And with that role comes great responsibility. We have been so fortunate here in Massachusetts to have such a long running, tireless model of how to manage that responsibility and work for the common good. His shoes will never be filled. Never. Senator Kennedy was bigger than life, and so much more than just his office. As Vice President Biden so eloquently stated, "It was never about him; it was always about you," I am reminded to keep that in the forefront of my dealings with the citizens of my town, and with the parents of the students I serve in my district. It is not about me, or my agenda, it's about them.

I was one of the 50,ooo people that passed through the Kennedy library to pay their respects to the Senator, and it was a moving experience for me. I was there early, before the family had arrived, and I waited for 3 1/2 hours to get inside. But, it was a tremendous afternoon, and I'm glad I was there. All week, I had felt compelled to act somehow. Standing in line, I spoke to the people around me, and why they were there. We even made it on television. We were there when Caroline came out to greet the crowd, which was incredibly humbling.



I thought about my grandmother, how she worked on both his and JFK's campaign, how she was invited to a barbeque on the compound to thank her for her efforts, how, had she been alive, she would be standing in line with all these other women, to thank this family for this man and his service. I wrote in the condolence book, and prayed as I passed by the flag-draped coffin, and was left nearly speechless as his widow, Vicki, and nephew Joe greeted us as we left the viewing room. I thanked them for allowing me to participate in their mourning.

Because, remember, as much as he was a senator, from a storied American family, he was also a husband, father, grandfather, brother, uncle, and dear friend, and these individuals should be allowed to have their private moments of grief and sadness as well. Just because you're a Kennedy does not make you immune to sorrow; in fact, I think, you might actually learn to expect it. And there they all were, regal and comforting, even in their own sadness. It was an honor to be there, and a touching afternoon.



This morning I watched the funeral, and the dignitaries lined up row by row to pay respects. My alma mater's Chancellor, Father Donald Monan, celebrated the Mass, and our President delivered a stunning and elegant eulogy. But, President Obama was clearly upstaged by the pure emotion and tenderness from Teddy Jr.'s moving words. And as the rain falls on Massachusetts, as the Senator flies off to be buried by his brothers in Arlington National Cemetery, I am thankful that I have lived in a time that was made better by this man's life's work.

Godspeed, Senator. Thank you for your service, for your life.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

It's a glorious one, too. a reward for the weeks and weeks of rain and dreariness we've been experiencing. The sky is a brilliant blue, with white clouds to inspire dreams, floating through the expanse. The street is quiet, the air is so fresh, it reminds me of being near the ocean. There's nothing to rush out and do today, so I'm still in my pj's, coffee at my side, and finding so many wonderful things to read this morning, I'm going to share them with you. I haven't done a link round-up in a long time; for a while, it was this blog's Sunday morning content, but I've fallen away from that. Maybe I just feel like sharing what moves me more these days.

So, to begin...

...although I in no way regret my concert choice for this Saturday night (Ani vs. Wilco and Ani won), this article with Wilco front man Jeff Tweedy certainly makes me eager to find a date to see them soon.

From Hullaballo, an impressive list of rock movie musicals. What made you happy it made the cut? Which ones would you have added/subtracted?

A profile on my all time favorite Sox player, Tim Wakefield. He's having a magnificent season this year, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

Mary Oliver has long been one of my favorite poets. She writes with a language that is so vivid, and economical, and emotional all at once. I met her once; I have an autographed quote of hers, about the role of a poet in the modern world, framed in my bedroom. This article about Provincetown, the natural world that appears in her poetry, makes me want to jump in the car with a notebook, and a pen, and a collection of her works, and sit in the woods she has shown so much of to me over the years.

Finally, some music to entertain you while you read along. Hoping your Sunday morning is coming down as gloriously as mine.



Sunday Morning Coming Down - Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson

If You Could Read My Mind...

...you would have known that I could have written this one.

And this one.

This one, too. For a long time, this was very true.

The mileage is different, but not the sentiment.

And I discovered this site, through Liz, on the same day this one appeared.

Old love, or new love, you need to read this every day. Because someday, you will see yourself there, and wonder. My new favorite web obsession.

The Rau Women.

The Rau Women., originally uploaded by crau1971.

It's a formidable shot, isn't it?

Happy Mother's Day to my mom, who made us the women we are today. Strong, beautiful, intelligent, accomplished. We are all these things because of you.

Oh, and ridiculous David Bowie fans ;)

I love you. Happy Mother's Day!

Rest Your Head, Close to My Heart

For all the babies that made it into the world this week.

For the mothers and fathers that love them, and worry, for reasons both minor and impossibly huge.

For the families and friends that gather round, and coo, and sigh, and hold their collective breath.

For this moment, and the next breath, and the future...

...this song is for you.

Baby Mine - Allison Krauss

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Things I Love Today

Things I love today...

This article about drinking wine. I love this article with all of my heart and soul. I spent too long dealing with one of the most ferocious wine snobs in the history of the free world, and know what all of these gadgets are (MY broken table top Rabbit sits unused on my bar; I've returned to the standard corkscrew), to the point that when I broke up with him, I actually stopped drinking/talking about wine. And I missed it. I actually know quite a bit about wine, granted, from hanging out with him so long (credit where credit is due). But not everyone wants a bottle analysis. Sometimes, they just want a nice glass of red that will go with dinner. And I can help with that, better than you think. So, every word of this article makes me happy. Read it. Save it. Live it. Drink it.

The posts at my other home. I was prolific this week, and the throwdown will be a riot, I'm sure. Once the dearly beloved PIC gets his up. I'll leave that line as is... ;)

Hot and Tangy almonds from Trader Joe's. Yum. Addictive.

The fact that I'm about to have Ozzy and an article about wine drinking in the same post. But, here we go--this song.

Happy Friday, kids!!

You Can't Kill Rock and Roll - Ozzy Osbourne

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Lucky Number Seven?

So far, he's opened all of the shows on this tour with this song. This makes me happy. So do some of the guest appearances and tracks from "Darkness on the Edge of Town" that keep popping up during the shows. Other notables popping up in the setlists I'm checking are "Backstreets" (which made me cry when I saw him time #2), "Because the Night" (which would make me LOSE MY SHIT if he played tonight), and "The Ghost of Tom Joad" with Tom Morello in LA. No chance of Tom here, but DAMN, can you even imagine?!?!?! Courtney's brain matter all over the folks around her.

This will be the seventh time I'm seeing him since 2004. The fact that the Red Bank Rockers are joining me makes the event all the more special. Red Bank and Monmouth County IN THE HOUSE, BOSS!!!

Oh, and by the way, read that post Liz wrote about her night here in Norwood. Sums it up perfectly, and the quote from Brownie is priceless.

Pictures, of course, and review will come. And if I'm in the pit... oh dear lord. Wish us luck!!!

Badlands - Bruce Springsteen

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