Just Plain Shocked

Watching the devastation of hurricane Katrina for the past 2 days, that's about all I am. Just plain shocked.

I lived through hurricane Agnes and recall the ominous feeling just before the sky opened up and flooded the Wyoming Valley of Pennsylvania in the summer of 1972. Our immediate area was spared (thank you God) but the entire valley flooded; a friend of mine left the second floor of the Hotel Casey in downtown Wilkes-Barre by boat. Moving to college that Fall, I drove through areas that had been ravaged by flood waters. Many of the imcoming freshmen lived in the valley area and so late at night we listened to horror stories quite different from those usually told by candlelight in girls dorms at midnight. Bodies rising from their graves on flood waters to hang on the top of the black wrought iron fence surrounding the cemetery. One more a skeleton in her wedding dress. Horrible.

Seeing the pictures of Lousianna and Mississippi I want to either rush there and take home victims with no where to sleep tonight, or blink twice to find out it's all just a terrible dream.

Shock & Awe

My cousin John wrote today in shock and awe that I have corresponded with Rachel Fuller. Not only because she is *the* up and coming talent, but also because she is Pete Townsend's girlfriend. Being an avid music lover as well as an old Who fan, I suspect he is jealous, as Rachel has invited me to attend her shows as a VIP.

What makes a VIP a VIP? Who they know? What they do? Where they go? What they own, wear, say? No. I think it's really deeper than any of those things. I think a VIP is VIP because of what they mean to someone. Their connection. I suspect I am a VIP to Rachel because I found her music and supported her in a place that was sometimes hostile. Not because of anything she did wrong, or for lack of talent, but because of the limitations of some of the critics. When I was flamed for my support, I shrugged and said, "To me, she is great." She is a VIP to me because I love music and her songs touch me. And also because she is willing to show her humanness, her vulnerable side with humor and candor.

John is a VIP to me because we share a whole lifetime of memories. We are family. Each the oldest of a tumble of siblings. My earliest memories include him, running 'round a green station wagon in Grandma's backyard, me with a pail and he with it's shovel. Summer days of Robin Hood and Maids Marion (his sister Kathleen, another VIP, a bit younger than both of us, was Maid Marion 2.. heh). So dashing he was, as he lept over the porch railing with an apron tied backwards around his neck for a cape. Orange leaves fell as we played Roy Rogers and Dale Evans 1 and Dale Evans 2. Combat. How many *Krouts* we killed with imaginary rifles. How many outfits we grass-stained, crawling on our bellies to sneak up on said *Krouts*. How many times did Grandma and Macky (her sister) drag us in from the yard, covered in culm dust from climbing over banks of exhausted coal beside the old breaker with the missing windows. How many will know he and I even existed on this earth 200 years from now? Probably none. But that doesn't matter. Because when someone is your VIP, they may be either famous and known, like Rachel, or famously loved and unknown, like John.

I guess a VIP is really mostly just a very important person who has left their mark on your heart.

Family Picnic

That's what we had today. A family picnic. At my house. 3 of 4 sisters arrived. Parents arrived. 9 nieces and nephews arrived. (Not in that order). They trashed my house. Husband, now 15 days off cigarettes, is still shaking. I have gotten used to kids crawling all over everything I own. Actually with 4 sisters, (being the oldest), I was always used to kids crawling over everything I own.

The musical selections of the day. We listened to Rachel Fuller, she got a big thumbs up. We listened to James Taylor, he also got a big thumbs up. We listened to Sade, she got a big thumbs up. We listened to something celtic. We are Irish, everything celtic gets a big thumbs up. They left at 8 pm. As they pulled away from the house, one of the kids tossed a plastic hand grenade out the van window back into the driveway. No he is not a terrorist in training. The plastic grenade is mine.

Playing By Ear

I think every musician I have ever played out with, plays by ear. I took classical piano as a child and was once a district winner in the piano teachers guild. But I'd have rather stuck needles in my eyes than play by note. Some of my bandmates could read music. But no one ever did. Myself included. What's with that?

A Heartfelt Thank You

Goes out to Rachel Fuller, musician/vocalist/composer.

You may recognize her name from the Vh1 reality series *Kept*. You may recognize it from my blog entry below. You may recognize her name from her contribution, Wonderful, on the Soundtrack of the movie Shall We Dance? Or you may recognize it due to the recent release of her new CD, Cigarettes & Housework. In any case, if you do not recognize it yet, I am betting sometime in the near future.. you will. Rachel has written/performed a beautiful collection of songs and graciously sent me a copy of her UK release, which includes Jerry Hall performing on Around This Table.

eelpie.com - downloads

You can find the US release, available from Amazon, by clicking on the title link of this blog entry.

Thank you Rachel, for the gift of your CD, and say *hi* to Jerry from this Kept fan. I wish the very best of luck to you both!

Went to a Garden Party..

.. last night. Several friends were there. The night was warm, the breeze picked up just enough to cool off the day. Lights from across the lake glistened right up to the shoreline we sat by. Someone picked up a guitar and started playing. Everything. Well, everything from my genre anyway. Eagles. Stones. Beatles. Classic stuff. He was great, but I can't talk him into doing a trio. I guess it's his need for anonymity since he's by trade a psychoanalytic psychiatrist. He did play through medical school and residency, very well I might add, but I just can't get him to budge now. Perhaps we could play in *costume*. Hey, don't laff. Look at KISS. Ok, well, laff I guess. ::Giggles::

Behind the Mics

Behind the mics is a whole different world. Maybe it's the lights, carving out colored spaces no one else is allowed to enter. Soft yellow, red, blue in the surrounding darkness. Maybe it's the line of mic stands, like soldiers standing guard, separating you from those who've come to see you. Or maybe it's the unseen line of sound waves that leave you in their empty rush out and away. Whatever it is, if you've stood back behind them, you know exactly what I mean. Behind the mics. Your own little whole different world.