Thursday, June 19, 2008

a horn to toot

Funny how I just recently wrote this gushing post over at BabyCenter about my perfect husband and suddenly the only thing gushing from me is a poisonous venom spawned from childish disappointment.

Honestly. You can play the grown up all you want; buy the house, reproduce, read the parenting manuals, pay the taxes, and attend friends for education meetings-- but the little kid inside of you never really leaves the building.

I'm at my worst with my children when I let my insecurities about their futures skew my vision of who and what they really are as well as what really matters. And it works the same way with husbands. You want so much for someone, or so you think, but how much of it is really about how who they are reflects back upon you?

I'm resisting the urge to go into any detail here. Let's suffice it to say, I married a man whose talents are seemingly boundless and whose voice rarely rises above a the gentlest whisper. What is wrong with that, you may ask? Well, people can't hear him.

Perhaps I should install a horn somewhere on his person, which he could toot when he was feeling bold. I bet he would just MacGuyver some sort of muffler for it so the sound wouldn't startle or offend anyone. Sigh.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Could Bob Dylan be the cure?

I've been actively seeking an antidote to my recent Glan Hansard addiction. Honestly, it has only gotten worse since I discovered a whole new slew of Frames songs that rock my gypsy soul.

I tried to listen to something other than my "recently added" playlist, which includes about 20 songs from The Frames, while on my bike the other day and I made it half way through Coldplay's "Clocks" (I know I could have done better than that, but sometimes my iPod is a beast to navigate). I made it about 2 minutes in before skidding to a stop, fumbling in my pocket and, like a junkie desperate for a fix, heading straight back to Glen and his fabulous friends.

When I finally found him and hit "play," his sure voice came breathing into my overstimulated ears, with the effect of rain on parched earth. "Come back. Show your face. Can't you seeeeee." "Ohh, I'm back," I said out loud, "I'm back."

What is this all about? Is this truly the best music I have heard in a really long time?
I've always been particular about my music. It all started with Neil, of course, where else do you start? then ventured on to plenty of other singer songwriters from there, mostly women, with Joni Mitchell and Bonnie as my pilots.

But, recently, since having kids, and most noticeably since discovering iTunes, I have strayed. While I still whip out the old CD's, I've gotten lazy. And, like anyone who subsists on too much fast food, my taste buds went off. I have lost touch with what's good.

I download generic stuff I've never even heard of, after listening to a 20- second clip, and it usually ends up being like candy: Tasty and satisfying first going down, then leaving a sickening aftertaste, and I can't figure out why I paid good money to ingest that garbage.

People hear my music playing on my iHome and say, "This is nice, what is it?" And often I say, "I don't know, something I downloaded from itunes." How sad is that?

No more sitting around studying album covers and lying on the floor letting good music and the story behind it take me where it will. No more smoking cigarettes late into the night and playing DJ for my friends.

Now I play DJ for my kids. But I've been diluted, big boxed, franchised, gentrified. That was until this curly redheaded Irish guy came along and put me on track again.

And back on track I truly am. Yesterday I downloaded 10 songs, none of which were from The Frames. 5 Bob Dylan songs and 5 Cat Steven songs. And I made it through almost an hour long bike ride without listening to one Frames song. Until the bitter end when I snuck in "Lay Me Down." Esther and Isla call this "The letter song."

That said. I've recently been reawakened by this talented Vermont singer songwriter, Anais Mitchell, as well.
Still writing over here. Oh yes, there's this and this as well.