Month: October 2007

I hope I’m this sprightly at age 70

The Cute Boy™ and I have been talking a lot lately about the subject of aging. Not that either of us are all that old, but both of us are old enough to start pondering our own mortality. Cold weather brings creaky joints that didn’t used to creak. “My back hurts” replaces “I’m so hungover” in my vernacular. I suppose this doesn’t get better as the years pass by. (and, have you noticed, the years are passing more quickly than ever?)

So with aching knees and cold hands wrapped around a coffee mug, I read an article in the Albuquerque Tribune (now with a buyer!) about Merle Haggard. Now, I’m a longtime fan of Merle. You know how some musicians comprise part of the soundtrack of your life? That’s Merle to me. “Silver Wings” brings up a *very* specific memory (and if my best friend in the whole wide world is reading this, she knows exactly which memory I’m talkin’ about). “My Favorite Memory” is another fave…and one of the few songs I learned to play on acoustic guitar. Merle doesn’t play deep or complicated guitar chords. He doesn’t need to. His lyrics can, with an economy of words, cut right to the heart. He is indeed a poet, as the Trib article points out.

So how do I tie all this together? My aching joints and Merle?

Well, at age 70, Merle is making a new album. It’s a bit of a departure for him. He’s doing a disc of bluegrass music, all original songs, which I think is amazing. He’s got a voice made for country, and now hardened by time, I imagine bluegrass will suit him well.

After decades in the business, he’s still got The Muse running in his veins. At an age where he’s made enough music and money to retire, he can’t. The words still flow.

“I guess the reason for writing songs is to make money,” Haggard said, “but then you go back and say, `I’d like to write a song that will be remembered forever.’ That’s more interesting to me than the checks, even.”

It’s a rare bit of integrity in the music market. And memorable songs are what Haggard has done.

This line kills me…it’s so right on, at least to my way of thinking:

“I like to write something that you can photograph. If there’s no picture there, what’s your album cover or your CD cover going to be? In most cases, you’ll find it’s just a picture of the artist, because they don’t have a picture, and it’s kind of sad.”

I may not be a musician, but I’m a writer, a lover of words, and I work real hard at putting words together in such a way that someone who reads them can see a picture. Merle not only creates these pictures, but lasting images that stay in the mind. That, my friends, is pure talent.

“…You can’t have any emotional songs anymore; they won’t play them. Someone might look up from their computer, and they don’t want that. It might disturb somebody. And it all sounds like water to me. . . .”

And at age 70, he’s rasty as ever. Love it. He’s even planning a tour to support this new album…having just come off a tour.

I can only hope/pray/dream/beg that I’m as full of The Muse, the energy and the drive at age 70.

When it’s time to put your electronic device down

Had a pretty good laugh today reading an AP story about cell phone users feeling “phantom vibrations”.

The Cute Boy™ and I have talked about this one before. My life, unfortunately, revolves around the wireless industry, and I’m constantly surrounded by < obscenity deleted >* cell phones.

If you have to be tethered to one of the damn things like I do, then you’ve probably had this phenomenon. Or….if you’ve ever had a hot date and you are waiting desperately for them to call, that’s also a fine time for you to lunge for your pocket only to realize it wasn’t your phone, it was you.

Lately I’m also getting phantom ringing. There are so many ding dang devices in the world, and they all beep, whine, tweet, chirp and whatever, that I think it must be my phone. I mean, the galdurn thing has a bunch of functions I don’t even know how to use. A few weeks back, The Cute Boy™ and I were in the car. A new chirp emitted from somewhere in the car. It was an unfamiliar sound. We looked at each other. “What was that?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he replied.

I mean….how bad is it when there are so many electronic sounds in the air that you can no longer accurately identify the source?

It makes it worse that here at work all employees now carry the same phone. Which means they make the same set of noises. It’s kind of funny in a crowded meeting when one phone chirps and twenty people lunge for it. Funny in a “holy crap is this what we’ve become” kind of not-so-funny way.

So, yes, I admit it, I’m a “phantom vibrate” person**…and a phantom ring too. Today I took off for a meeting across campus at work and (*gasp*), forgot my phone back in the office. And while in the meeting, someone’s phone rang. And even though I KNEW I didn’t have my phone, I still reached into my pocket…to find, my keys. Well there you have it, the downfall of civilization.

By the by…does anyone else have a microwave that nudges you when it’s done? I mean, I can pop a bowl of soup in there for a couple minutes, then be doing something else. I *hear* the end beep. Then every minute or so, it beeps again. I really, really hate that. My life…managed by a microwave…and an iPhone…and the beeps and bells in my car…and let’s not even start on the strange noises my computer makes.

Remember when a phone just rang, and made that “shuk-shuk-shuk” noise when you dialed?

*Self censored in the interest of keeping this blog to a reasonable length. The string of curse words that I use to describe cell phones is both lengthy and sufficiently blue enough to make a sailor blush.

**Heh..when I first wrote that sentence, I said “I’m a ‘phantom vibrator’…” That’s a WHOLE other blog, no?

Proud

Oh Fair New Mexico, how great thou art. Once again my home state is contributing to not only the economy of the world, but to our overall wellbeing.

Those hard working researchers at University of New Mexico have been selflessly spending hours upon grueling hours in strip clubs conducting an in depth and meaningful analysis. The purpose of all this hard work is to determine at which point in a woman’s monthly cycle does she earn the most money (in the form of tips).

That’s right, ladies! Turn on the charm when you are ovulating and you too can rake in the cash! But look out when Aunt Flo is about…you’ll not be making the dough. Oh, also, if you are on the pill, apparently you send out an “early pregnancy” vibe (cuz the pill tricks your body) and the boys won’t throw as much cash your way.

“Miller suggests scheduling more shifts for the phase right before ovulation: ‘It might help to know about this so that you can exploit these effects.'”

Now THIS is science!

(source and via)

Shusshing the demons

I have made it no secret here on these pages that there have been tumultuous times in my life recently. Work. Personal. Mental. Emotional. Physical. You name it, I’m tweaked out on it.

I’ve been sort of at a white knuckle, nail biting, not sleeping place lately which kicks off lots of crazy internal demons. Old stuff, way back machine stuff.

But I refuse to let the demons win, so I’m fighting the valiant fight to put da monstas back in da cage.

In the past, I’ve fought all of this alone. I’m sort of used to doing this myself. I’ve not had much in the way of supportive partners in my life, to be honest.

Until now. The Cute Boy™ is here. And he’s a good man.

Yesterday he told me he had a surprise. I was too tired, weak and demoralized to fight very hard. “Okay,” I said and went along for the ride.

The Cute Boy™ had a good surprise up his sleeve.

See, I’ve studied a lot of “woo woo” stuff in my life, from one extreme to the other with varying degrees of success. Several years ago I took a Learning Annex class on walking a labyrinth. It’s a form of walking meditation that I really liked.

When I can get my monkey mind to meditate, it usually helps. A lot. I’ve been talking at starting meditation again for a long while but not doing anything about it.

So The Cute Boy™, either tired of me flapping my lips at meditation and not really doing it, or because he’s worried about my freaked out ass, took me up to San Francisco yesterday to Grace Cathedral. They have not one but two labyrinths there, one inside and one outside.

Walking in I was unsure if I was in the right mental state to do this thing. Walking out two and a half hours later after three walks and much thoughts, I realized some good thinking had been done.

I slept better last night. My sister called this morning. She’s worried about me. She said, quite surprised, “wow, you sound MUCH better”.

Those crazy ancients might really have been on to something….

And it’s confirmed…The Cute Boy™ is a keeper.

(this is the Native American “man in the maze”, which is also a labrynth)

Same planet, different world

Today I’m shamelessly ripping off something found over at the awesome blog Duke City Fix.

Read a brief story today ’bout them crazy Londoners…..road closures and evacuations because a Thai restaurant was cooking up some spicy chiles. Called out the fire brigade and the chemical response team, they did.

Best line in the story: “firefighters smashed down the door of the Thai Cottage restaurant and seized extra-hot bird’s eye chilies”

Here’s hoping they didn’t seize them barehanded then later seize something while in the loo. Ouch.

Heh. They’d think Sept/Oct in New Mexico was all out warfare! Don’t go to the grocery store, mate. You’ll be a goner for sure! :)

Oh Fair New Mexico, 5000 miles away from London, and yet a world apart.

Happy Friday!