Don't get me wrong. I love snow wicked bad like any kid hoping to stay home from school.
But it's getting a little ridiculous here in New York. They just need to start banning street parking or we're never going to dig out from this stuff.
People are getting so tired of shovelling, they just park in the streets, or diagonally so they can actually get back out again. This is when I'm so happy I just gave my old Mazda to the Salvation Army when I moved here from LA.
I'm not sure why or how my flight got in with no problem yesterday. I felt so lucky... until an hour and a half later, when our suitcases were still nowhere in sight. Meanwhile, the flight from Brussels got theirs, Cancun, all sunburnt and smug got theirs. I've been meaning to write a letter to American Airlines. I don't think I've ever waited under a half hour for my bags, and especially if London is involved they have about a 50/50 record of losing one, usually a guitar, for a few days. I understand everyone is trying to save money by laying off the poor bottom line... but how 'bout the muckety mucks taking a tiny cut in their christmas bonuses so anything out there in us poor schlubs' worlds might have a chance of running smoothly.
And then... when I got home, Sarge from down the hall came over. I'll write that letter tmorrow.
Sarge and I are working on a song.
It's about that blue blue sky, and that spiral staircase to heaven.
Thank you Cannes, Paris, Sarge... a tres bientot j'espere.
But who made this blue so perfect.
This birthday so beautiful.
Yes, Cannes (and love.) The January regular. It seemed a little more sober this year at the MIDEM music conference. I liked it. Not as many people were bullshitting about the incredible streams of revenue out there just waiting to be plucked out of thin air by us lucky creators. The jury is in apparently. And the majority of people think we're full of crap anyway, I mean who do we think we are, expecting to make a LIVING off of what we do. Most people think we should go back to our day jobs and stop whining.
I'm trying to imagine editing children's textbooks 9-5, cleaning someone's apartment, painting a living room, then trying to run off to a gig in Harvard Square right now. Don't get me wrong, it was fun when I was 20. Ok, not really ......
Anyway, what matters is we found each other, music and I, absolutely for better, never for worse. We found each other, my husband and I, absolutely for BEST, never for worse. And I ain't going back. Remember WEST SIDE STORY... "something's coming, don't know when....but it's soon, catch the moon, one handed catch..."
When I was ten I went to summer camp. (this haircut is why they called me Mason Reese) I was obsessed with climbing trees, and the with coolest counselor, Mindy Jostyn. She played the guitar for us every night and sang. I got the solos at the end of the summer when we performed "Country Road" by John Denver and "Oh, Baby Baby it's a Wild World" by Cat Stevens. (swoon)
Mindy also had an amazing green bikini, and a killer tan. So of course, I wanted some day to be tan and have a green bikini too.
I never got the bathing suit, or a convincing tan, but my dad, after I begged for two years, got me a guitar for christmas. It was a Yamaha nylon string guitar. Impossible for tiny hands to really master, but I didn't care. I was on my way. Mindy taught me those first chords that I never forgot.
She went on to play with John Mellencamp, the Hooters, and made a couple of her own beautiful records. She passed on a few years ago, way too soon. I came across this picture today and had to give her some props. Thank you for everything Mindy.
I took a chance and grabbed my camera. Usually I'm too scared. But, come on now, what the hell? Why? How? When will this go away?
These guys have to walk like they've got a full load in a diaper just to keep the pants mid thigh. But this guy? That former waistband is almost at his knees. His bum is actually above the hem of his jacket. His little long underpants are barely covering the rest.... and it's friggin' 18 degrees out. Does his girlfriend really think this is cool? Does he pull up his pants when he goes to visit his grandma? Does he feel a little bit foolish when the wind blows and his privates are screaming for help? Or when the person behind him trudging up the subway steps (me) has to look right at that stretched thin layer covering his naked ass.
How 'bout that guy that fell to his death trying to get away from a robbery on a fire escape because he was wearing pants like this.
What gives. Can't anybody explain why this trend will not die?
There was a shooting right in front of my building last week. Turf war I think. One guy drove away, the one left standing just started firing wildly at the moving car. Of course a kid sitting in another car across the street waiting for his mom is the one who got hit. In the face. I believe he survived.
In my neighborhood the violence is all around "disrespect." I suppose that translates everywhere. Who knows what's in a hopped up, crazy mind?
But, the odds are, that if you have a gun, you are more likely to get shot than if you don't. So, I don't want a gun.
I want more snow days.
I want more singing. In harmony. (vance gilbert, aztec two-step)
I want more collaboration, and conversation. Inspiration. (ben wisch, rick price)
I was having a conversation yesterday with Jen Lee about reality, the honest to goodness day to day of every single life. No glamour, daily bread. And how you are ready to tell a story when you can tell it with true compassion. With love. I am working on this.
so I've known David Buskin since he wrote the "Serious Freedom" jingle for Goodyear, and somehow I ended up singing it. Kaching. Of course I never got another jingle after that.... but I digress. David is a one of a kind sweetheart. Wickedly funny, endlessly talented and kind, and graceful in all the best ways.
The point is, If David ever calls it's for a very good reason. So when he called me about this concert to honor Dick Pleasants at Sanders Theatre. I jumped.
First we did a little warm-up radio at WUMB
You have to wear a hard hat just in case the garage finally gives way on the way to the studio...
Batteau was smart and came in through safer turf...Obviously, we lived to tell.
And what a telling it was. In fact, it was a total love-in last night. And I couldn't have been more thrilled to be a part of it. I got to see so many old friends and meet a few new...
I got to sing with total badass Patty Larkin.
If you don't have her latest record "25" GET IT.
patty and her stratty
Patty, Buskin, Batteau, Pat Wiktor, Greg Greenway, Joe Jencks... I didn't get pictures of everyone... I'm sure they'll be trickling in, but there was a helluva lot of love going around..
Lori McKenna? quit it. She takes no prisoners. I am always stunned and left gasping at her delivery and the punch in the gut in her words. Antje Duvekot? WOWEE. Check her out.
Ellis Paul brought it home
Jonathan Edwards kicked us all up a notch, Brother Sun (so soulful, awesome HARMONY) and Buskin and Batteau are powerful and deep and then ridiculously funny. And then... Tom Rush. MASTER. So.... it just didn't suck for me at all.
I got a good reminder of why I'm on this planet and what a very lucky girl I am to share the air, the evening, the stage with creatures like this.
Dick Pleasants is a big reason why we were on that stage at all.
Thanks so much to everyone at WUMB (especially Pat Monteith) for all their hard work to make the show so seamless and fun. Thanks to Klon, the gentle giant sound man of heart and soul. He is a technical magician and made us all sound so pretty.
My heart is full again.