Musical Flavor #493, Marvin Gaye, 'Here, My Dear' (1978)

  #493- Greatest Albums of All Time

Everyone knows Marvin Gaye songs. "I Heard it Through the Grapevine" was a favorite as a kid--thanks California Raisins! "What's Going On" is still too relevant and, of course, "Let's Get It On" & "Sexual Healing" will live forever. But I don't know a LOT of Marvin Gaye songs and I didn't know much about him as a person. 

This particular album is interesting here on the 500 because it didn't do well. After his marriage failed he wrote this hoping that it would fund his alimony. He owed millions in taxes at the time and his addiction to cocaine was...not going well.  

Interesting side note: his marriage may have failed, in part, due to the fact that he had a child with his wife's very underage niece. #Problematic! The girl was also the niece of Motown founder Barry Gordy. Marvin's wife, who was unable to get pregnant, adopted the child and he was named Marvin III.

I also did not know that Marvin was killed by his own father (a minister), who had abused Marvin for his whole life. His father was given a reduced charge due to the discovery of a brain tumor. Dr. Dre is said to be working on a biopic that will come out in 2023. It'll be quite a story. 

The best (non-tragic) thing I learned in doing some research was that he was greatly influenced by Frank Sinatra. 

What a brutal life. Yet, a voice so sweet. 

Would I listen again? Meh...this album is not music I enjoy actively listening to. It was great background music for reading about his life but I wouldn't be likely to put it on for fun. 

I don't dig it so much, but it's been fascinating. I suspect I'd enjoy the words in their poetic form more so than as songs. He was going THROUGH some things. 

I did dig most of the 8 minutes of "A Funky Space Reincarnation", that one I'd listen to on purpose. 

Musical Flavor #494, The Ronettes, 'Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes' (1964)

 #494- Greatest Albums of All Time

This is the definition of oldies pop. I don't know what makes it stand out against the maaaany other similar albums and groups of the time, but it gets the job done if you're in the mood for a milkshake at the bar wearing your pointy bra. You'll recognize many of the songs unless you're simply too young or have voluntarily lived under a rock. 

Chapel of Love is simply iconic.

{I have thoughts about how Ronnie's multiracial family influenced her musical talents, while her melatonin was subdued enough to soothe white listeners and how a lot of "oldies" were coopted Black music made palatable for white people. But that's like a whole different blog.}

Veronica, aka "Ronnie", just died a couple weeks ago. If it wasn't due to her relationship with her producer, Phil Specter (who regularly threatened to kill her, squashed her career, and once "surprised" her with twin children for Christmas...wtf) she would have probably done a lot more really amazing things. But she did a lot with what she had and she influenced generations. 

Would I listen again? Of course. 

I dig it. 

Rest in peace and power, Ronnie. 

Musical Flavor #495, Boyz II Men, 'II' (1991)

 #495- Greatest Albums of All Time

Boyz II Men, 'II' (1991)

Oooooh yeah...this one takes me back. The majority of these so far have been things I've never even heard of, this though...this I've listened to maaaany times. This was one of the first CDs I ever owned. I think I got it for my birthday in high school when I got a badass stereo. (I also got Madonna's Bedtime Stories, that year, and I bought myself my first CD--Michael Jackson's HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I .)

"Yesterday" was by FAR my favorite song on the album. I listened to it on repeat. My mom might even remember this album for that reason. It's a good song already, but their version was just amazing. 

It's a nice variety and mix of pop and R&B and it's just a nice time. 

Would I listen again? I haven't listened to this since maybe high school but it was nice to revisit. I don't imagine I'll seek it out often, but I definitely enjoy the throwback. 

I dig it, I have for a long time. 

Musical Flavor #496, Shakira, 'Dónde Están los Ladrones' (1998)

 #496- Greatest Albums of All Time

Shakira, 'Dónde Están los Ladrones' (1998) 

I guess now is the time to admit that I'm really not much of a Shakira fan, but this is likely because I've heard all of one song about 5 million times. (And I don't even dislike that song, necessarily.) 

 This album is solid though. I have no complaints. It's upbeat and fun and I have no idea what the lyrics are. The standout song for me is the last one, "Ojos Asi", because it seems to have the most fusion of different styles. The Lebanese influence definitely comes out in this one and I like it. 

I imagine I'd like it better if I understood it. Maybe? The music is still fun though. Definitely dance-worthy. 

Would I listen again? I wouldn't reject it...and I've already listened to that final song multiple times, so I guess so! 

I dig it.  

Musical Flavor #497, Various Artists, 'The Indestructible Beat of Soweto' (1985)

 #497- Greatest Albums of All Time

Various Artists, 'The Indestructible Beat of Soweto' (1985)

 

This is a great time. It features Ladysmith Black Mambazo and other artists from South Africa. I listened to it many times over in my office because it's worth it. (If you listen to YouTube Music it will also play similar music, but tends to return to replay the album. This is how I learned that Dolly Parton and Ladysmith Black Mambazo, covered Knockin' On Heavens Door! I had no idea.)

If you want something upbeat this is what you need. It's full of joy. 

Would I listen again? Definitely! 

I dig it. 

Musical Flavor #498, Su*c*de, 'Su*c*de' (1977)

 #498- Greatest Albums of All Time

Su*c*de, 'Su*c*de' (1977)  (The algorithms seem to not like the word so I've edited for posting.)

Another band I've never heard of and definitely a genre I don't listen to much. This band is considered punk, new wave, electronic, synth-pop, and more. It's not screamy like one might think if you're not a punk fan. It's quite the opposite, for the most part. It's mostly mellow and has a bit of a random oldies pop feel to it. None of this really fits with the title so don't let that scare you away.

I get Jim Morrison meets Bowie meets Eraserhead vibes. (If THAT scares you away then...maybe for the best.) It has a steady background vibration throughout making it feel like one long-ass song. I have no idea what they're talking about so I might have to defer to my honey for that since he's the one that listens to the lyrics. 

The whole album is only about 40-someting minutes so check it out if you're not sure if you'd like it. It's dark but delightful. It's charming and weird. (It lists "Bela Lugosi's Dead" as similar music--which some may remember was played at our wedding.)

It reminds me of True Romance, which is awesome. 

Does this album make me wish I was on drugs and wearing scarves? Yes. 

Would I listen again? I already have. It's weirdly rhythmic and meditative...like I accidentally joined a cult. 

I dig it. 

Musical Flavor #499, Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan, 'Ask Rufus' (1977)

 #499: Greatest Albums of All Time

Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan, 'Ask Rufus' (1977)

This is definitely a genre of music I don't listen to very often. It's a mood. One I guess I'm just never quite ready for. I enjoy it, for sure, I just don't seek it out. I have the same relationship with soup and raspberry flavored things. 

What I know of Chaka Khan is, of course, "I'm Every Woman" & "Tell Me Something Good." This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me enjoy this project I've assigned myself. She deserves more space in my head than 2 songs. 

Does this album make me want to roller skate and fluff up my hair? Is it smooooooth like a dang milk shake? 

Yep! Egyptian Song is a treat awaiting you at the end.

Would I listen again? Yes. I may not think to go listen to it often but I wouldn't kick it off a playlist.

I dig it, it's groovy.  

Musical Flavor: Intro and #500: Arcade Fire, 'Funeral'

I thought it might be fun to explore some new music. It's not that I don't have a very eclectic assortment of favorites already, but I'm definitely not any kind of audiophile. I like what I like and it may or may not have anything to do with what it's about or whether it's actually any good. I'm very lowbrow and I'm totally ok with that. But why not branch out?  

To accomplish this, I've decided to listen to the 500 greatest albums of all time, according to Rolling Stone. I aim to provide some kind of commentary on each but don't expect me to do them justice. I don't know squat about lyrical content or musical composition. It will largely consist of whether I dig it or not. 

Now, Rolling Stone has updated this list a few times. I started on an older version so I listened to half of Aquemini, by Outkast. (Which was pretty cool and I'll finish it eventually. Maybe I'll throw it in as a bonus--if it's not still on the list, I haven't figured that out yet.) The newest list update is from 2020, so it's pretty up to date. 

#500 is: 

Arcade Fire, 'Funeral' (2004)

I've never heard of this album or the band, so I didn't know what to expect. Generally, I don't really know what's exceptional about it. It's not bad and it has a lot going on without being too scattered. They utilize a ton of different instruments and styles. The beginning didn't excite me a lot, but a few songs in it definitely gets a bit better. It has moments where it makes me think of Velvet Goldmine, which is a good thing. (Crown of Love, for sure, but it happened a couple other times.) 

I'd recommend headphones (which, is usually the case with anything worth listening to, right?) because there is a lot going on in the under current that I think you just won't hear otherwise. It's kinda...delicately arranged. Or something.  

Did I bop my head? Yes. 

Would I listen again? Yes, I would. There's more to it than you can glean in one listen. I predict it'll grow on me. (Especially if Jason takes a liking to it because then it'll be played to death in my house.) 

I mostly dig it. 

I’m not a unicorn. (Usually*.)

If you know me, you know I have a lot of shower thoughts. Since I’ve switched to the alternative Covid schedule I’ve often been showering at night, at which time I’m just aiming to get out and get comfy. This isn’t the point of this at all, other than today I showered early in the day and had an excess of shower thoughts. So, now I know the difference between my AM & PM shower modes. 

I don’t know why I thought of unicorns. 

My boss and I have a unicorn connection. I don’t know why or where it came from, entirely. I have a unicorn pen and card deck on my desk (I miss you, desk) that we often reference. My boss will reenact the unicorn life advice from my pen. It’s just what we do and who we are. 

One part of the thought was this: I’m not really different from anyone else. Not any more or less than most. But a little bit goes a long way. My life has been weird. It is weird. It will continue to be weird. Some I chose, some I didn’t. Some is good, some is bad. It’s life. Just like everyone else. All stories are different but they still have a beginning, middle, and (hopefully a long ways off) an end. 

I still am not sure how I got to unicorns. 

However I got there, it led to me assertion that I am, in fact, not a unicorn. I’m a muleicorn. Or a donkicorn. That detail is TBD. 

I was not born with a magical horn. I had to build that shit myself. The great thing about becoming your own whatever-icorn is that you get to actually make it what you want. Some people ARE unicorns. They have a special and magical life that most others don’t have. But how would they know any different? Can you know it’s special if you’ve never seen the alternative? Maybe? I’m sure there’s some kind of standard philosophical quite I could throw in there. Insert your own, I guess. 

The thing about the muleicorn is that it can really carry a lot. It can be loaded down and piled high and it’ll just trudge through the path. Muleicorn can carry a lot. Don’t underestimate the muleicorn. 

I can carry a lot. Sometimes it’s too much and things need to be dropped. Sometimes I’m underestimated and I’ll stomp a hoof. But I’m built for this in ways not all are; that’s how my horn was created. My horn is made from stronger stuff than the ones that come on their own. It won’t break or shatter and when the load is too much I’ll need to buck some off and have a little rest by a stream. That’s ok. Nothing to be sad about. We all need a rest sometimes. Watch the hooves though... They may be unpredictable. 

*The exception to my broad statement, because I’ve said it many times, is India. In India, I definitely felt like a unicorn. Unlike anyone in sight in many ways. For some, that would definitely be unsettling but it’s not a position I find threatening or terribly uncomfortable. I think it’s quite enjoyable to be among those who are unlike you. It gives you an opportunity, in different ways than usual, to find out how they ARE like you (because they are) and also to learn about the differences. 

When the stars are aligned and the light is shining in just a certain way I may appear as a unicorn, and feel a little extra sparkle, but it’s just temporary—like fancy shoes. When the festivities die down, I’ll kick off the shoes that pinch and I’ll be back to my good old muleicorn self; not quick or exotic but sturdy and steadfast. Don’t worry about how much I can carry, I’ll let you know when it’s too heavy. 

                                               

Benjamin Button of Maturity

Disclaimer: I'm not saying any of the following is good or bad.
I'm not looking for any platitudes or anything.
It's just an observation of my life journey, and I thought it was interesting.
I'm not suffering, other than specific moments, I'm enjoying the ride at this point.

I think a lot of people are doing this to some extent, to which just depends on who they are and how they were made. But I'm going to try to wordify my experience.

I feel like I'm doing a Benjamin Button (he aged in reverse) with my level of maturity. But it's compartmentalized. I MIGHT come out of this hell with a level of being able to "go back" to my youth with what I know now. That's what everybody wants, right? People always say "oh, if I knew then what I know now." Who wouldn't go back and get into or out of some shit that they didn't when they were dumb? I'd most likely get into more shit. Or different shit?

When the pandemic started, and I was working from home, I got dressed more often and got more done. I found that I only wanted to listen to music that I listened to in college/high school. Later, I started listening to music I liked in jr. high. Now that I'm working it all out I suddenly have a great need to listen to 80s Madonna because that was my JAM in elementary school.

I've found that my attitude has been on a similar journey, and all of these carry bits of each of the others when I transition.

I started off with a bit of my college vibe: A mix of back and forth between "this is all I need in life" and "existing is the worst and I can't do anything."

Next, came the high school vibe: "Wtf is wrong with you... You know, what. Nobody cares what I'm doing so I'm just gonna do my thing here and you all can do whatever." With, like, annoyance and sprinkles of #mood (if that would have been a thing back then.)

I'm thinking this places me currently in my jr. high vibe: With the inclusion of my pets being some of my only friends and only wearing stretchy pants or shorts, this is the BEWARE vibe. We can call this the Blevins vibe, because that's the torturous shit hole I was stuck in with my mini army of allies. This mainly consisted of Amy, who is still in my army since 3rd grade- will crush you like a bug, physically or verbally, if you annoy the army; and Terri- beanpole lunatic that is utterly unpredictable but she kinda wants to fuck shit up; and maybe a few others here and there that were allies.

Blevins vibe is as so: Loooong bouts of silence, staying up late for no reason, eating weird stuff for breakfast, and avoiding all the people...until... "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME!? DID YOU JUST LOOK AT MY FRIEND? I WILL PILEDRIVE YOU INTO THIS FUCKING WALL IF YOU SAY SOMETHING. JUST SAY SOMETHING, WON'T YOU." * goes home to sing Madonna and annoy my mother *

Fun sidenote: a psycho kid, who I'm sure is now a psycho adult, called me a "fat whore" one day, for the last time. With the army behind me I attempted to break his legs. Both legs. With my feet. He punched me in the shoulder. We had to go talk to the principal. He got suspended, I got a "well...we get it but please don't fight. Go back to class now."

Second fun sidenote: I once screamed at my PE teacher while we were trying to play indoor kickball. I said some bad words at him and turned around and crossed my arms. I don't entirely remember why but I definitely hated him, and pretty much all PE teachers after that.

So here's the moral of the story. I've refilled my cup of sweetness over and over again in life. I will continue to do so because I'm fucking nice and I like being nice even if everyone else is an asshole.
BUT...
Once you get down to the bottom of the cup, there's a spring loaded napalm of salt and vinegar that will come slap you right in your stupid face. It's not even generally unwarranted though it may be more bitter than necessary.
Also, maybe don't play kickball with me.

Now that I'm all grown and whatever, I can sooometimes do it more tactfully but if my cup is empty it's empty. Nobody knows where the lever is so just be prepared. (My husband might have an idea of when it's getting close but, honestly, I'm usually in weird delightful spirits around that time because there's less weight in the cup. So maybe it's ok with him. He's a bit salty, it doesn't worry him. And I don't aim it at him because he's my pirate and that would be uncool because we share part of the same cup.)

Shower Rant #1: Gay Cake

The shower seems to be the only time my brain gets to churn things over. That, and the bouts of insomnia. Today was a multi-level shower thoughts day. Item #1: the gay cake/face mask argument. If they can refuse to do business with the gays for being gay, then we can refuse to do business with the maskless for being maskless. Nope. Not the same.

It's a slipper gray slope, even for me, to what extent businesses can refuse to serve people for a million different reasons--dress code, cover charge, intoxication, tattoos, etc. Many of those reasons are due to prejudice and privilege, many are due to safety. Some can be construed as both. We're accustomed to it.

The "I told you so" style post going around is misdirected, in my opinion. It's equating wearing a mask to being gay. We all generally know this is different but the point is directed at people who believe otherwise so you really gotta dumb it down. So, if they say "you know what, this business is totally within their rights to deny me service for not wearing a mask cause this is ‘Merica and that's freedom and nobody has to make no cake for no gays neither!" are we good with that? Are we ok making that an even line? I'm not. Everybody should have cake. (I'll bypass the point about why you shouldn't want your beautiful cake make by a shithead in the first place. I don't have it in me to start that too.)

One point is about the safety and well-being of others and one point is about being a hateful hypocritical prick. DIFFERENT. I have other bullet points I could add here but I'll get off topic. I did in the shower.

You can't catch gay. You can catch Covid. You can't die from a random surprise of gay marriage. You can die from not wearing a seatbelt. Rules are for safety. They aren't generally based on who you ARE as a HUMAN. They are across the board. Like, if you're not tall enough then you can't ride the roller coaster...it’s not if you’re not tall enough and didn’t adopt a shelter pet. It's not based on your qualities otherwise.

You aren't refused a driver’s license if you are just an asshole, but they'll limit you if you've been unsafe. You aren't denied insurance just because you're an asshole, but the price changes based on your habits. There's nothing keeping you from doing anything that you aren't doing to yourself when rules are made about safety. A VERY small number of people have specific health and wellness problems that are made more difficult by wearing a mask. Now, if they are an asshole and don't have any friends to help them out well that sucks for them.

If the thing you're doing isn't worth a few minutes of a slight annoyance, is it actually worth doing? I mean, do you NEED to go to the Dollar Store? Really? And if you do need to, then toughen up. We need to get over ourselves. Every time we have to do something slightly annoying we should consider the people who volunteered to do it for endless hours simply because we need to have a barbecue with all the neighbors.

Escape from 16th St.: A Nightmare

Last night's nightmare:

I was leaving a mall and walking to my car at the end of the parking lot. It was dark and there weren't many people around. Something or someone near the building was playing a clip of people fighting; it was very loud and sounded real so a bunch of security people ran over. I kind of laughed because I knew it was just a video or something.

As soon as they figured out it was not an issue I looked down to the street through an opening in the parking garage-ish thing and saw a bunch of people running and could hear screaming. Then I heard gunshots. I was trying to get into my car with all my stuff. My hands were shaky because it was very close and I was alone in a dark parking lot. I shoved all my stuff in the car, got myself in, was trying to get it started and this line of cars with armed hooligans drove past in slow motion like Boyz N the Hood or something.

I kept thinking to myself I really hope this is a dream. Still unsure even though the dream STARTED with me hoping they didn't find out that I was the one who killed Bruce Willis. (I shoved him off some sort of service elevator in the parking garage earlier. I don't know why. Sorry Bruce.)

I wasn't sure if they were after someone specific or just whoever was in the way. I waited for them to go out of the parking lot and start down the street. They shot at my window but it was a tiny little hole and I didn't have any holes so I continued my escape. I drove out onto the street and turned left, because they turned right and I thought I'd not follow them to their shootout. However, once I got a block away I could see the reflection of dozens of inmate jumpsuits (safety jumpsuits, though) wandering around the street. It was mildly like a zombie horde but they weren't zombies, just people. I wasn't sure if they had escaped, if they guys in the cars had escaped (though they weren't wearing jump suits), or what else was going on. I turned around and took my chances with the other direction and woke up not long after that. I thought to myself somewhere in there that it was like Escape from LA, but Escape from 16th St.

 I'm quite glad I'm out of Colorado and am somewhere with less violence. It seems that I acquired some anxiety about certain things I didn't have before. There has been a time or two here on campus that I've heard the students messing around and getting riled up, hollering at each other or giving each other a hard time. Until I can tell that they're just screwing around, I'm nervous about it. I don't remember a single episode on campus where someone fought or was violent in any way when I was here. (I'm sure it happened, but nothing that I heard about. I think it's more contained to living areas rather than on the main campus.) There's zero reason to think that it's happening.

 Just before I left Boulder I was working at the justice center doing some computer upgrades. I was in the Community Justice Services area. I believe they deal with people who are on parole, sorting out certain family situations, stuff like that. People sometimes aren't happy. Keep in mind, I'm working in an office that at one time was a cell. It has a little sliver of a window (still more than we got in the basement) and the only way out is toward the front. I hear an odd random noise and someone from the front yell for security.

I surveyed my situation quickly and realized, in the event that someone wanted to shoot people in this office the only option I'd have would be to go toward that person. There was no other route.

It was a brief pause and flash of "omg...do I do something?" But then I heard the security people come barreling down the hall and didn't hear anything else so I figured all was well. But it was a similar feeling to what happened in my dream. That anxious moment where you don't know what's going to happen but you know some shit is going down.

 I know things can happen anywhere. Someone could try to blow up Coors Field, someone could shoot me driving down I-25, someone could not like the look of me walking through the park. For most of my life I have never had any significant of fear about these things and generally avoid situations where I'd likely be in any danger. I have more fear now. At work I'd think where I would go if someone came in the building with violent intent. It was unlikely because we were in a secured building full of comfortably employed people who don't sign off on any policies. We only annoyed internally, for the most part. Not many irate citizens are coming after IT and HR.

Some cope with this daily. Some voluntarily, some not so much.

I don't know when this anxiety became part of my life but it's here now and remains even in Hays, KS where I'm unlikely to get shot unless I'm wearing antlers in the trees.

 Side note: I've started watching The Haunting of Hill House so I was anticipating maybe different scary dreams but not that!

Reflecting on Deliverance. Seriously.

The other night auntie and uncle were watching a show about the celebrities who departed in 2018.
Long story short, we decided to watch Deliverance. (RIP Burt.)
I guess I should say there will be spoilers if you've never seen the movie.


At first I was sorta confused because I'd never actually heard anyone say they wanted to watch Deliverance.
I surmised that they didn't know what it was famous/infamous for. It had been years since I watched it and I was curious to watch it with others.

On the surface, it's an outdated movie about a guy trip gone wrong. It's a step away from being classic horror. Many would probably put it in that category but I'm not sure I'm sold on that. It will remain in drama/suspense, for me.

Upon further reflection, like the Grinch at Christmas, it's really about a lot more.
There are 4 men; the macho man, the everyman, the thoughtful man, and the softie city guy.
There is a trip; off to the woods for some male bonding and adventure. There is danger and action involved in their activities, but is still all in good fun. (For a little while.)
There are layered relationships; it's hard to tell why they're friends; they question it, even. Some get along better than others. The relationships are balancing and relatively realistic.
There is an unknown element in the hillbillies in the beginning.
The banjo boy tells you so much about his character without speaking a word. It's not a wordy film in general but you don't miss out on any details. 

It sounds ridiculous even as the one writing it but the film has an ideal premise, arc, and pace. These are all the ingredients that you need to put together correctly for it to come out nice. If you muddle them up too much you get a mess.

I looked up a good representation of the ideal film, and came across this.

From here: http://www.movieoutline.com/articles/the-five-key-turning-points-of-all-successful-movie-scripts.html

As much as part of me would like to take this apart in a scientific manner and fill in this structure from the movie, I'm not going to because I don't have that kind of mental capacity right now. 
But, if you're familiar with the movie, you can see how it would fit in there. 

This movie came out in 1972 and a main plot point is one of the men being raped.
Like, that's not something they were doing. (Nor are they now, for that matter.) This was kind of a big deal.
There was a moral crisis when they killed the attacker, there was a physical crisis when they almost died on the river, there was a survival crisis when they were fighting to stay alive in multiple ways.
They kind of gloss over the fact that their buddy was violated because they have to work so hard to simply stay alive.

They don't have to figure out how to emotionally support their friend like you would see in a film with females. I feel like the real world is reflected in this, in that a group of males would likely take a life or death situation following the rape of one of their friends over navigating the mental and emotional repercussions of the event. (I'm generalizing. I can't pick apart the entirety of the male psyche in one blog.)
I mean, they all need therapy, but they did what they needed to do to get out of the disaster they were in. They dusted him off, slapped him on the back, and got out of there.

There are still very few films that even have any mention of male rape. The water coolers must have been humming after it came out. OR they were silent. I don't know. I didn't exist yet. I've never seen anything about how the movie was received by the general public at the time.
It won awards, but those aren't representative of what people actually thought about it.

Aside from that, there are all but no special effects. Because there were none, by current standards.
They made a movie about rafting down a river and had to just film the whole damn thing.
Do you know how hard that is?? I don't, but I bet it's hard as hell!
They always say don't make a movie with water or children.

I have a hard time taking a stable selfie sometimes. Let alone anything in a canoe.

Some IMDB knowledge:

• Burt broke his tailbone when filming the scene where the canoe capsized.
• To save money, the production wasn't insured. John Voight actually climbed the cliff so they didn't have to pay stunt doubles.
• Ned Beatty got thrown out of the boat and almost drowned. An assistant jumped in to save him. 
• The toothless hillbilly, is exactly that. He's illiterate and has a stutter. Burt had worked with him in a wild west show. They also used locals as the hill people to save money. 

So, I guess my point here is: we know Deliverance for the emergence of Burt Reynolds, "Dueling Banjos," and the plethora of jokes and common references, but I don't think it's taken very seriously as a movie. Next time you sit down and watch Deliverance, cause who doesn't do that every once in a while, think about how risky it must have been at the time; think about how almost nobody has made anything similar since then; think about how much they did without all the tools and tricks they have now.
A lot of thought and effort when into making that piece of work and it deserves some appreciation.
(As, I'm sure, does the book. I've never read it and can say nothing about the adaptation from that perspective.)

Zoltar Speaks

During our time in Asheville we wandered the downtown area.
We saw a Zoltar machine through the window of a candy shop that was closed at the time.
We went back later with Elan, when the store was open, and got our fortunes from Zoltar.
We took a video of it but I'll have to wade through Jason's phone for that.
I do have my paper fortune though.
It says, "YOUR WISH IS GRANTED!" Sweet! But, what was the wish?

When Zoltar gave me this fortune I thought, "You know what Zoltar, you're right!"







I frequently long for breakfast made by our dear Elan. It's his own doing. He started it by making me eggs benedict and there's been no turning back.
That morning I had eaten a wonderful breakfast made by Elan.










I don't know Bull Durham well enough to quote it by heart but I know it well enough that every summer my inner Annie Savoy dreams about watching a little ball game on a warm southern evening.

Days before Zoltar we had gone to an Asheville Tourists game with our friends and had a damn good time. I didn't even make the Asheville/Bull Durham connection until I got there.

We've talked about going on a road trip, or going to visit Asheville or Tennessee for years.
We did them all.
We did lots of things I wished to do.

So, he may not be telling me my future, but he told me my recent events.
My wishes were indeed granted and I didn't even recognize them as wishes until he reminded me.
Thanks Zoltar!

Longmont Restaurant Review: Deli Cioso

I went here years ago. I've been to both the big south location and the smaller north location, the south one is closed now. They've gone Italian over there.

I remember going to the big one with my mom. We had a communication issue about limes. We were given lemons instead. The service was poor and the food wasn't great.
I had a better experience at the north one with my dear departed co-reviewer Debita. It was better but still not amazing, apparently...since I never went back.

The newest location is just north of 3rd on Main St. where Racheli's Italian place used to be.
I think before that it was retail something but I can't remember. Main St. is ever changing.

So, it had been a while and the downtown one was new so I thought we could give it another chance.
For better or worse, some things never change.
I will never understand how this place is a "local favorite."

Jason got a machaca burrito, I got carnitas tacos.
He would have preferred a shredded beef burrito but this was as close as he could get. It was adaquate.
I ordered carnitas tacos, I said I didn't want a side of rice and beans, which I was given anyway.
The rice appears to be made with tomato soup. I don't get it. The beans were subpar but ok.
My real issue was the "carnitas." They were mushy. I've never had mushy carnitas. The taste wasn't awful but it wasn't really anything. It would have been ok in a burrito or something. Carnitas are carnitas because they're crispy. Otherwise, it's shredded pork.

My leftovers: 

VS 

My breakfast: leftovers after I threw them in the skillet and did them right. 

Looks crispy, right? 

NOW they're delicious. 

Jason didn't care for the setup. They bring your food but not your silverware.
The silverware (at least what they had when we were there) was metal forks but plastic knives. Weird.
The water, cups, silverware, and to-go-boxes are over in the corner. You order at the counter but you sit and they bring your food if you're staying in. Why not also bring silverware and water?
It's an odd in between of fast/take-out/casual/sit-down.
Great building and location, could be utilized better.

A red flag for us is always NO HORCHATA!? Uh oh. We should have known.
It was late, we were hungry, it got the job done I guess.

Atmosphere: It's a relatively small space and it was late when we went so it was nice and quiet. They had an awesome playlist! 
Service: Friendly, food came out quickly. (Maybe too quickly? I'd have happily given them a few more minutes to fry my carnitas.)
Price: We paid too much for what we got but there is a variety of options.
Food: Not outright bad, but not good. 
Lesson: Don't get the "Mexican" tacos at this not-so-Mexican place. It's Texmex at best. 
When you order tacos at a place claiming to be Mexican food and they ask if you want them "Mexican style" then just order something else.  
Going back: No, there's so many great places for better Mexican food here. 

Longmont Restaurant Review: Cyclehops

We visited Cyclehops "Bike Cantina" with friends last weekend. Not somewhere I'd pick on my own but I'd like to try everything we have here.
If you want to bike over, you'll fit right in. We just drove. They let us, and our carbon footprints, in anyway.

What they say: https://oskarbluesfooderies.com/cyclhops-bike-cantina/

"Oskar Blues’ passion for cycling (CYCL) and craft beer (HOPS) is the inspiration behind CYCLHOPS Bike CANtina. In addition to experimenting with new south-of-the-border savors, we wanted to create an original, cycling-inspired hangout that would complement the bike culture of Longmont and the Colorado Front Range. Not only does this full-service foodery dish up tacos, tequila and craft beer, but it’s also the official retail home for the Oskar Blues in-house bike brand, REEB Cycles."

What I say: I'm not a bicycle or beer enthusiast so that part doesn't do it for me BUT they do have a super wicked double bike thing up in the front that looks fun. It's nice and open, lots of windows all the way around, colorful, slightly noisy.
Jason was the only one that had a beer so he'd have to give input on that but it's an Oskar Blues branch so I assume they have all the OB stuff.

We were technically there for the brunch menu. Our friends both ordered some version of enchiladas, which both looked pretty tasty.
Jason ordered some kind of cheesy stuffed pepper with bacon. It was interesting. Definitely something experimental.
I ordered the Relleno Avocado with 2 eggs.
RELLENO AVOCADO:
CRISPY AVOCADO STUFFED WITH CHORIZO, ASADERO CHEESE+ ROASTED SALSA TOPPED WITH TWO EGGS, PICO + COTIJA CHEESE $12

It's literally a halved avocado with chorizo and all the rest on top, 2 eggs on the side.
It was definitely tasty and different. Chorizo and avocado is nice together. But I could have made it at home for a few bucks and had a lot more food. If you get it right you could buy 12 avocados for $12.

I will say that their chips were delicious. Thin and crispy, warm and salty. Yes.
So the moral here is to go for the chips and salsa and grab a beer while you're there.

Don't Drink and Bike.

Atmosphere: Peppy and bikey.
Service: Meh. Inattentive but not unpleasant.
Price: Excessive.
Food: Good but slim. Chips are delicious.
Lesson: I should have gotten the tacos.
Going back: Unlikely, but would return if someone else wanted to.

Spaghetti Squash!

My new favorite thing.

If you're confused about it, like I was, here's what you do.

Chop off the top. I made 2 smaller ones today since they both fit on my sheet.

Cut in half the long way.  

Clean out the seeds and the stringy bits. It's just like a pumpkin.

Rub olive oil on the inside and edges. 

Turn them upside down on a foil lined cookie sheet. 

Bake at 375 for 30-45 min. depending on the size. 

Shred the inside with a fork, it should be very tender and easy. Toss the outside rind. 

Add sauce or veggies or whatever you would make with rice or pasta.

It's delightful, I promise!

The Good and the Bad: Being with Grandma at the End.

 

My grandma Doris Johnson died on July 19th, 2017 just a couple weeks after her birthday. She was not well for several years and a little so-so for years before that. She had diabetes; most of her problems stemmed from that and just getting older.

A couple years ago she lost some of the toes on one of her feet. She had to be in the nursing home until she was able to "learn" how to walk again without those little guys. That's the first place her and Jason met. It was quite the exciting day for the Sterling nursing home, I'm sure. Folks walked by her door in waves ready to look in and see the bizarre sights in Doris's room. She, of course, didn't say a word about anything that might have seemed unusual to her.

I had called her earlier to let her know we were coming. I said "he's got tattoos on his face grandma, just so you're prepared." She says "oh alright, well I'll see you when you get here."

Jason never knew her when she was big and strong and her hair was still dark. Granted, she was still 5'8 (technically, not that she could stand up that tall) when she died and still had lots of her dark hair left.

*Meanwhile, I already have white hair. :(*

I had gotten used to her stooped skinnier body and less squishy hugs. Otherwise she was always the same. She sure wanted to be at home though she wouldn't really have been doing much different if she was there. Grandpa had taken over dishes duty I think. My aunts, I assume, helped out with some of the other chores.

We'd gone to visit grandma several times in various hospital rooms in the last year. Jason patiently sat with us as we chatted about what everyone was up to or who had come to visit. She got a little more forgetful as time went on but just barely.

At the time that she made the decision to stop her dialysis treatments, she was fully capable of making that decision. I doubt there was much argument from the family. They're not arguers, for one thing, but also aren't big on extraordinary measures. She was already labeled as DNR so it's not a surprise that this is what she decided. I hadn't considered that it was an option so it was still a little unexpected.

We knew that her time would be limited from that point. I visited her the next day or so and she was doing alright. When you ask her how she's doing she always says "hanging in there..." No doom and gloom for her. In the next couple days she was moved to hospice at Eben Ezer. This was much closer to home and she knew more people there. The first night we stopped to visit we knew we were in the right place since my California auntie (who I was mistaken for a couple times, as well as mistaken for her daughter...it's understandable if my dad's not standing next to me) was in the parking lot. They showed us where the room was and hung out a little while. It was getting late but grandpa was still there by her side. She was obviously doing not quite as well as she had been the week before but she still knew we were there and could chat.

We went back every day and sat with her. It was the popular place to be. Her friends, neighbors, pastor, family, they were all in and out all day. She had a big window to look out and see the trees and squirrels. Grandpa had a special chair to sit in where he could lift himself up to help getting out of the chair. It was nothing fancy but it had everything she needed. (Coulda used some extra A/C but she didn't seem to mind.) We'd take turns in the chairs and the aunts rotated who helped at meal times.

Before we left on our last day grandpa came in just in time to help her with her lunch.

I had never considered that some day I'd watch my grandpa helping to feed his wife, wiping off her face, giving her tiny bites that she could manage. He helped her with her oxygen which she was constantly fussing with. He sat next to her and held her hand as she half-napped. At one point she started to fall asleep and her hand started to fall. She thought it was him moving. She woke up and asked if he was going somewhere. He said "no, are you?" She kinda laughed and said "no, I don't think so." I remember her saying "you better stay close." I'll probably always wonder if she said that knowing she wasn't going to be there for long or if she just didn't want him wandering off.

She kept asking him about the "smallest person in the room." We couldn't really tell what she was referring to. I said "well grandma I'm the shortest one in the room but not the smallest." She laughed and said "no, you're not small." Never did figure out what she was talking about. Also never found out why several times she reached up in to the air like she was grabbing something but there wasn't anything there. I'd suspect she saw some stuff that we did not.

After lunch I sat by her and told her we would be going soon because I was trying to get back to work for an interview. She just said "alright" in her grandma tone. I say it a lot in a similar tone. I can't tell if I was doing it before and didn't notice or if I started doing it more after that because she said it so much. She repeated it a lot since she'd drift in and out of conversations but she was still listening.

I held her hand. I couldn't really give her hugs anymore so I'd hold her hand instead. I was always worried about bumping something that might hurt her.

I told her I loved her and we'd be seeing her. She said "alright."

Later that evening she was gone. They said she would just fall asleep and it wouldn't be painful. I guess that's probably what happened. 

In the last couple weeks of her life she'd seen all of her children and grandchildren. She'd seen many of her lifelong friends. She'd talked to friends who were far away. She got cards, flowers, and prayers. She was fidgety and probably uncomfortable but not in much pain. She got to celebrate one last birthday. For her, I don't think she would have asked for anything more, under the circumstances.

I'm immensely grateful that I was able to visit her and still be able to talk to her even in her last hours. I would trade a whole lot to have had that with my other grandma. I was one of 6 pallbearers at her funeral, I was glad to be with her to the end.

She was devoted to her small church in her small town and never would have guessed how full it would be with people there to send her off. In fact, she probably would have thought it was silly to have so much fuss over her but she would have said "whatever works."

 

Lunchtime Theory: Money, Art, and Fire

I brought this up with my husband recently and since I was thinking about this for a few days I thought I'd get the words down.

There are 3 things we hold up as pretty darn important: (In general, as average human beings.)
Our happiness.
Our passions.
Our stability (most often via economic success in some sort.)

My theory on this is that very few people ever find all 3 in equal amounts.* I'm not saying it's good or bad, just that most people are leaning more toward 1 or 2 and away from another.
(*This depends on their methods of operation.)

The equations are like so-
If you're happy and work doing something you're passionate about, there's a good chance you don't make a bunch of money.
If you work for decent profit doing something you're passionate about, there's a good chance it doesn't make you as happy after a while.
If you're economically successful and happy, there's a good chance your passions and causes are less of a factor than they once were.

Yeah, I'm sure there's some guy out there who is sitting on his yacht full of joy about his Google stocks cash that he uses to feed stray cats or whatever but I'm talking about the rest of us.

This is particularly relevant to creative people. It's hard to just DO what you want when you also want to try to make a living at it.

If you want to be a economically successful artist (at least in the beginning) then you're probably going to have to be doing work on someone else's passions.

BUT. If you do what makes you happy and what relates to what you feel is the most important EVENTUALLY someone else will come along with some cash and say "hey! I also find this important and awesome! Take my money!" It's the side door to artistic success rather than coming up the front walk hoping that people feel your vibe.

Other people have different theories.
Some say don't get into a job involving something you love because it'll become corrupted and you'll end up hating it.
Some go with the "if you build it, they will come" plan. Risky, but I'm sure it works sometimes.
Some people find enough happiness in the non-passionate parts of life that they can make up for it.
Some simply just take the chance, do what they want, and if they make the money then it's great and if they don't then they're still happy.

It's not all about money though. People hold economic success at different levels of importance. It shouldn't be the same for anybody.
Income and/or affluence (lots of affluent people don't have normal "income" but have plenty of money) is problematic because it's wrapped around how society sees us, how we feel about ourselves, how healthy we are, how educated we are, how available we are, how free we are.

Think about how you react when someone cuts you off in traffic.
New BMW..."what a jerk!"
Junker rust bucket..."idiot!"
Soccer mom van..."pay attention!"
Same car as me..."grrr...oh look, same as me!"

There's so many layers here but I'll just tackle a couple. I'm also doing some grand generalizing. I know.
We see a nice car and assume the person in it doesn't really care about the rest of us.
We see a crappy car and assume the person in it is not too bright.
When we see a car similar to ours, or one we like, we want to form an alliance with them against all other dumb cars that are in our way.
We make assumptions based on this stuff all the time. It's lame but we do it.

There is a comfort level when things are similar to our realm of understanding. Somehow there is this expectation that others understand as we understand. There's also people who fall into the opposite belief that nobody understands them and nobody is like them. Neither of these is true or false. Isn't it a fun existence?

The point here is that if you are driven to create then you MUST create for yourself. If someone is paying you then it is not for you and you're not digging up what you really want to produce. Not at first.
If you want to make money, and you are attached to the creation part and not the outcome part, then give your skills to others and hopefully it equates to happiness. #Win
If someone sees enough of YOU and they see that sameness and understanding then they want to give you money to create for yourself because they understand that you represent them as well.

This is not to say that creating for yourself is always fun. It sucks. People feel like they can comment. On you. On what you created. People know that you don't go visit your friend with the new baby and say "oh wow...he's not going to be attractive." Nope. They cherish the spawn they have created and you appreciate that by not being a jerk for no reason.

Who do you know that likes every part of you? Not even your mama and daddy like every part of you. If you stood yourself in the corner of a gallery would someone come over and tell you that your pants are stupid? Probably not. They'll do it to art though. The art is the artist. The artist is the parent.
Basically...where do you get off saying what you like or don't like? You don't need to like it.
I don't like all your kids. Doesn't mean they aren't your most cherished creations that will hopefully be functional members of society who serve a purpose.

This relates to my life because I try to encourage my artist husband to do what makes him happy rather than what will be profitable. (Or at least I advise to separate the two.) He'd be pleased to make a living off of art. It's difficult. Not that he's known for taking the easy way in life but even so I try to sometimes make things easier in life when I can. If he was delighted to create a 9 foot tall sculpture out of soup cans in our yard, I'd say do it. Cans are pretty cheap.

People feel completely ok telling him if they don't like his art. My desire to make life easier for him in that situation is to start that person on fire. But that would make everything worse so I don't.
I don't know if people have the idea that he won't care because he looks like a badass or what. He cares but it's also part of the art package. Everyone is a critic. Don't even GET me started on the number of tattoo experts on the planet.

Why do we tell our kids that their unidentifiable creature on the fridge is amazing and tell adults that something they put their heart into isn't? Constructive critique is a different matter for an artist but I'm talking just regular random interaction here. We are both pretty harsh "modern art" critics but that's because it's not about the end result. It's about the PROCESS. Modern art is completely pointless unless you know who did it, in my opinion. If you don't know the meaning then you're just looking at nothing. It all has some hidden code or whatever. Once you know what the point is then maybe it's amazing. Maaaaybe it's still a swoosh and a dot but then at least you know why?

One moral of this I guess is: treat people like human beings regardless of how they look, specifically ones I'm married to or otherwise fond of, or I'll hate you and visualize you on fire.

I could say a whole bunch in relation to this stuff but it'd turn into a book and I have a meeting in a little while. Plus, there would probably be outrage and swearing and TMI.

In conclusion, if you don't love my husband and his art, that's ok. I know he'd paint in his own blood if he thought you'd appreciate it. I know how he feels about his art and how much he puts into it. He puts more effort into pleasing people with his work than I generally even consider doing. If that's not what's relevant to you then fuck off and watch out if you see me with marshmallows.

Alternate Realities

Driving home today I suddenly was thinking about what I would be in some alternate reality. You know, the me with a goatee. The you that's you-ish but different.

I guess there's levels, like pond ripples. The closest ripple is the nearest to the known reality. The far ripple is the way out there idea.

In the close ripple, I'm an engineer of some sort. I like taking things apart. I'm decent at putting things together. I problem solve. I'm no mathematician, which is part of the reason I'm not an engineer in the first place. I would have done very different things in life if math was easy.

Maybe a scientist. It's similar to engineer (probably crosses over a lot in some areas) but kind of from a different end. I ask all the dumb questions which, it seems to me, a good scientist has to do. They have to look at the obvious things and the not at all obvious things and figure out what fits. We live on a crazy planet where weird stuff has properties that effect other weird stuff. Like, who first ate something that made them think "hmm...this made me poop extra! I should tell the people I know who need to poop more that they should try this!" And then later we have drugs for that. It's all a puzzle and the trick is figuring out how to put it together without LOTS of the pieces.
I always liked science in school but I never did great because I'm not awesome with those kinds of details. I just want to see it and do it. I don't want to memorize it.

Stunt or monster truck driver. I have a heavy amount of faith in me and my car as a set. I'm a good driver and I'm not against crushing things. Can you not see it? I can. Big pink sparkly truck that shoots flames...

Perhaps if I was a boy I would have followed my father or grandfather. Building things, fixing things. If one can't build it and the other can't fix it, well then just burn it down. I don't have the patience for it, really. Dad makes awesome things. It's all very logical. My mother's SQUIRREL gene is stronger than my dad's building gene. He could build you a banquet table in his sleep. I couldn't even draw you one because I'd get bored with it.

Operatic screaming metal singer. Because. It's hard to scream-sing so much. They don't get enough credit for that. You have to have that talent in you.

Possibly a drag queen. I'd be fabulous. Magenta Sparkle and Her Merry Men.

What about you?