what's happening to me?

what's happening is this - I'm getting my life back!

I finished that god awful degree and slept.....and slept and slept and slept - reluctant to go out in the yard, go anywhere, do anything, I wasn't even inspired to paint the house (which is in serious need of a paint job). I thought something was wrong with me. Turns out I was right. Something was wrong - I'd just finished something horrendous that I never wanted in the first place! Last week I had a long, much overdue conversation with my PhD pal who said she'd done the same thing after defending her dissertation - it's a common phenomenon with academics. When you ought to feel free and light, you shut down instead. It was in that moment that things turned around for me (I love my friends). And, except for a massive migraine on Wednesday, I proceeded to have an incredible week!

Monday I was lucky enough to play, for the second year in a row, for the Girl Scouts at Camp Judy Layne (my pal Stacy sometimes calls it Camp Mary Jane, other times Camp Mary Kay) with my pals Melanie Johnson and Marianne Sherman. Now, such a gig may sound trivial. It's anything but. I would play that gig long before I'd go play The Hoosier Dome again... or CBGB's, the Stone Pony, you name it, every great gig I've ever played I'd give up to play for these girls. Why? Because they love it - I don't think music has ever given me more joy than seeing the look in their eyes when they hear us three women play and realize they can do it, too. You can see the light bulbs come on in their brains - the excitement is infectious. It makes me feel like I make a difference; something sorely lacking in my current "day" job.


The Lexington Herald-Leader got wind of what Melanie has been doing with these girls and the story became the front page lead in yesterday's paper. (be sure to watch the video). Someone apologized to me that Marianne and I weren't mentioned by name (we were referred to as "two of her bandmates") - I said, "I don't care - Melanie is way overdue her 15 minutes - I've had mine!"

So, I flipped the front page and there's a large, albeit horrible, picture of Alison Krauss and Robert Plant from their show the night before at Rupp Arena (watch the video provided on their website).


And could somebody tell me what it is about newspaper editors that cause them to pick pictures that make people look retarded? Seriously - the H-L did it to me years ago and I thought it was something personal but when I saw the pic on the inside of the paper of Alison looking just as retarded as I had, I knew it really was a deplorable lack of sense on their part (they had enough sense to not post it online, at least). She's beautiful and to choose a pic that makes her look like she just got off the short bus is just stupid.....oh bother.....


Anyway....I'd seen Robert with Jimmy Page back in '95 - one of the best shows ever. I've seen Alison God knows how many times and I don't think I've ever heard her hit a flat note (I don't think I can say that about another singer). Their show together was a religious experience - like seeing The Who in the late 80's with Simon Phillips on drums. My pal Stacy looks at me by the third song and said, "As long as that man's alive, women will never need Viagra!" She's so right - it was like a 2 hour orgasm. And it wasn't just him, the music was impeccable, ethereal, otherworldly and not at all what you'd expect. I can only describe it as taking American music to a completely uncorrupted level. Buddy Miller was along and you can never, ever go wrong with him on a stage - easily the most underrated American musician touring today. T Bone Burnett is no slouch nor is Stuart Duncan who really showed his stuff. My only criticism was the drums - there were times when I wanted the fancy big drum sound to let loose with some serious rock and roll groove. Stacy loved them but I equated the sound to a big man with small balls. Sometimes you just need big balls and there were a few instances where some big balls would have come in really handy!

It was a full moon Friday night and I had a blast!

Imagine my surprise when Saturday I went to see Mamma Mia....the week-long fun was continuing! (how bout the Abba-ites at the premier below?)

It was a roasting hot day - perfect for a matinée. The singing bordered on bad most of the time but, strangely, I didn't care. It is such a feel good story, Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnon are so handsome together, the scenery so beautiful, that you just don't care that they can't sing their way out of a paper bag. It is a total chick-flick and, despite myself, I loved it. I ate buttered popcorn, raisinettes, a large diet, then went to Frisch's for a Big Boy, fries, and a chocolate shake - what more could you possibly want out of a hot day?

And did I mention that I interviewed author Gwyn Hyman Rubio last week, too, who's uniqueness and kindness was an inspiration to me? Here's a woman who had a bestseller (Icy Sparks), her next book was a let down because some suit pushed her for a deadline, then she stood up and said, "ya know what? I don't work that way and you're not worth it to me or my writing." Girlfriend is writing her next novel on her own terms. I LOVE that.

I was also sent a copy of Janis Ian's autobiography and will be talking to her soon. That won't be boring - talk about a survivor! The list of good stuff happening to Tonic lately just goes on and on...

Today is Sunday. I have to go back to my "day" job tomorrow. I can only hope that the energy and creativity that's filled my life outside the library this past week somehow find a way this week to overtake the digital doldrum that is my life during the day.

living in a fish bowl

The neighbor next door to me is having a party today......for 300 friggin people! That's not an exaggeration - that's how many have been invited (well, 301 if you count me)!!!! I wake up to some thumping, a few voices, and a barking dog. I opened the blinds to find his entire back yard littered with white cloth tables and fold out metal chairs (Those won't be fun today - it's 90+)....and then the loud polka music started. Aren't you sorry you're not here for the spaghetti polka cookout for 300 Catholics? So, this is a birthday party for him and three of his fellow parishioners. Why they couldn't do this at the church is a mystery.

Said neighbor, we'll call him....Tim....has a penchant for wigging out the neighborhood on a normal day. He teaches violin (NOT fiddle) - Suzuki method [insert motorcycle rev here] - so, there's a constant parade of mini-vans ferrying children smaller than their instruments. Sometimes, when the appointments overlap, I find the mini vans in my yard - not in front of my yard, no, they're not smart enough to keep the wheels on the pavement, no, right side wheels in my grass. Lovely. 

When the weather permits (and the humidity is low) he opens the windows! I must say, there's nothing more effective for running off neighborhood cats than a 10 year old learning Bach. In the spring and fall the cat shit collection in my flower bed diminishes a great deal :-) I suppose I should thank Tim for the relief...but I won't.

(looking at Tim's fence, gate to right of tree, weird vine stuff behind Rhododendron)

Adding to his oddness, what tries to pass for a privacy fence between our yards has a gate. The gate opens from his side so, apparently, Tim put it there for reasons yet to be understood. I invested in a lock. Creep. Said privacy fence is a joke - the slats are so far apart that I might as well not have a fence - I see everything, as does he. In fact, the place would be much improved without it for he doesn't keep it up, literally. He's allowed this odd vine thing to grow to such an extent that the roots, in at least five places along the fence, have become trunks, interwoven between the slats - for, remember, they're wide. They've become so heavy that they're pulling the fence toward him. From his side I'm sure he doesn't notice, from my side, it looks like white trash took a dump between the yards.

Back to today's shin-dig, just as he announced the ping pong table was open, the winds picked up and, according to the local radar, he's about to get rained on. Better take that PA in the house! But wait, it's not raining yet so there's plenty of time for all the fat women to attack the dessert table - which they are....because I can see them through the f-ing fence!

...wait......crack of thunder.......scream..........sweet, delicious rain.......

I love Saturdays!

...but, wait, there's more........

With a short lull in the storms, the hordes returned to the yard, brought their guitars and congas, and began to sing. I heard faint whispers of Kumbaya  - I'm not kidding. They circled the faux apple tree, clapping in time with the conga, and sang. The rains returned. (what happened? ...the anglo equivelent of a rain dance?) Anyway, I heard Happy Birthday in there somewhere - the rain poured - unperturbed the singing continued. Arms stretched to Jesus - remember, I can see through the fence - the rain grew harder, the singing grew louder....hallelujas sounded....maybe they're not Catholic after all....I'm thinking evangelical Baptists. Oh Lord, I'm going to Frisch's.

smokin'

ok - new fad - weeds on Showtime. Watched the entire 3rd season and the first 4 episodes of the 4th season in a week's time. LOVE it. Go there now - find out more, outstanding cast! Mary Louise Parker (Fried Green Tomatoes), Elizabeth Perkins (Big), Kevin Nealon (SNL), Justin Kirk and a bunch more.

riddle me this, batgirl...

So, remember my pal, Melanie Johnson, I mentioned a few days back....has the video on YouTube singing an Aimee Mann song? Well, Miss M has a groovy, funny as hell, band called The Bats. Lo and behold - who should show up on YouTube yesterday but.....you guessed it, The Bats. Be sure to listen carefully to the words - you won't be disappointed.

see - I told you!

May 29th blog said "Korman died just days after Dick Martin (Laugh-in) died! Is the universe cleaning house of comedians?"

George Carlin is dead now. I'm afraid my poor attempt at a joke may not have been a joke after all. Eddie, Ellen, Judy, et al - better take your vitamins, have a physical exam, drink lots of water...it's gettin' scary.

R.I.P. George

deep thoughts...NOT

Yesterday I edited an interview I'd done last week with sci-fi novelist William Gibson. This is the guy who coined the term cyberspace (from his debut novel that's won every award known to man called Neuromancer) . He single handedly (for the most part) created the cyberpunk genre and the generation that follows. I knew his book but I didn't know him.

When the interview was going down I really liked him and liked what he was saying. During the editing, I understood more of why I liked him - he brought me out as much as I brought him out. It wasn't his job; his job was to talk, not listen. Now, as the throngs of you who read this rush to listen to our exchange, I'll warn that you'll be disappointed. I took out my 20 minute diatribe on the evils of the music business. So, I've cheated you (or spared, depending) but, for me, it was cathartic somehow. Here was a guy who is a sponge - that's part of how he writes these incredibly accurate (scary accurate) stories - who was genuinely interested in my career, my take on the business and just how nasty it can be.

The more I talked, the madder I got. 15-20 years out of the major leagues and it still pisses me off. I think it's fair to say that I'll go to my grave pissed off at Clive Davis and his mafioso cronies for wrecking a perfectly good opportunity. I see him now and just wanna puke, especially when he's being hailed as some kind of rock-n-roll savior - he's a smarmy businessman, but nobody wants to talk about that part. For every star he's found, there are thousands of careers he's wrecked along the way (One of the guys from Milli Vanilli - another Clive debacle - killed himself, for example). That's not an exaggeration - I was actually one of the lucky ones - my record got made and put on the market - there were 20+ bands under his purview that same year that never got out of the studio.

Despite the ruffled feathers, the good thing is this: Now I play because I love music - which is why I started playing in the first place more than 30 years ago. The business can wreck that for ya, at least, it did for me for a while. Today, I have more gratification playing for the Girl Scouts than I ever had being on MTV or playing the Hoosier Dome. (and, yes, that's a summer gig I have; playing at Girl Scout camp for little rockers - easily the most appreciative audience on the planet).

In the end, I reckon it was worth it if for no other reason than to appreciate where I am right now.

fun with balls

So, if you didn't like Peter Gabriel before, maybe you'll like him after Big Blue Ball - a huge collaboration with musicians from all over the world. My kingdom to be surrounded by this much talent!

With the exception of Sinead O'Connor's track and the last track, title track unfortunately, it's bloody brilliant. I can't stop listening.

Go, now - read about it, then - crank it up or put your headphones on. You won't be sorry.