But Really, Why CAN'T We Fill The World With Silly Love Songs?

I am all cobwebs today after a late night listening to an actual Beatle sing Beatles songs. My mother took over HR duty again, and Mike and I met up with my old friend and his fiancee who came in from Maine, and we went to the show, and lo, it was wonderful. The sound was bad (Fenway Park is not an audio snob's dream), the view from our seats sucked, but we didn't care. It was just a magical thing to be screaming "I Saw Her Standing There" along with thousands of other people and Paul himself.

As a lifelong Beatles fan, I guess it's weird that this was my first McCartney show, but I think I just took for granted that he'd always be touring. These days 70 seems young to me, but you start to become aware as these legends jump into technically elderly territory that "I'll go catch the show next time he's in town" is no guarantee. So we bought the tickets, and it was beyond worth it. He still sounds amazing, in case you were wondering (and no Kev, he didn't play "Spies Like Us"). It also got me to thinking of all the live music I've been lucky to experience in my life, and what it's meant to me. I don't go to shows nearly as much anymore because I'm old and my evenings are generally taken up by a small gentleman and that's how it should be. But I'm not hanging up my concert shoes, not by a long shot.

OK, now lists!

Bands I have seen (many of them multiple times), presented in no real order, I just put Macca at the top because I'm psyched to add him to the roster. Judge away:

Paul McCartney
Ween/Gene Ween/Moistboyz
Foo Fighters
The Reverend Horton Heat
Afghan Whigs/Twilight Singers/Gutter Twins/Greg Dulli
LL Cool J
Butthole Surfers
Dead Milkmen
Camper Van Beethoven
Fugeez
Juliana Hatfield
Duran Duran
Melissa Etheridge
The Police
Boyz II Men
MC Hammer (also, Hammer)
Milli Vanilli
Billy Joel
Young MC
Paul Simon
Art Garfunkel (separately)
Liz Phair
Bob Dylan
The Roots
A Tribe Called Quest
Jens Lekman
Fitz and the Tantrums
Moby
The Cure
Mighty Mighty Bosstones
Flogging Molly
Stiff Little Fingers
Dropkick Murphys
Social Distortion
Foreigner
Scissor Sisters
Buffalo Tom
Soul Asylum
Screaming Trees
They Might Be Giants
Spin Doctors
Guster
Janet Jackson
Big Daddy Kane
Slick Rick
The Pixies
A million local bands, and probably others I've forgotten.

Bands I could have seen in my lifetime but now won't have the chance:

Beastie Boys
Nirvana
Johnny Cash
Michael Jackson

Bands I need to see before I miss the opportunity:

Prince
Weezer
Willie Nelson
Hall and Oates
Springsteen
Elton John

What were your most favorite, treasured shows? Who do you regret missing? Who is your bucket list band?  In conclusion, music! Yay!

Giveth and Taketh

Now that was a long weekend for the books, just a-poppin' with fun and spontaneity. I got to go to the movies with my mother, which I haven't done in probably 20 years. It was a nice last minute idea, and the air conditioning alone was worth the price of admission, though I have to say the movie choice itself ("The Heat") didn't disappoint. We laughed our bums off. Melissa McCarthy deserves every bit of hype, and Sandra Bullock is a great comedic actress too. Respect. Due to this parental visit, I also got the opportunity to go out and play Sunday night trivia like the olden times. To round it out, we saw some friends, ate some foods, HR went crazy for hours playing with his buddies' water table, and spent the rest of the time being lavished with attention. It was the happiness. And there's still a stupid amount of things to be excited about on the horizon, to wit: with Paul McCartney at Fenway Park tomorrow night. This summer's roll officially continues.

The beauty, and then the sorrow: my grandmother, born the 8th of nine children, lost one of her sisters early this morning. I never got to know my great aunt all that well as we always lived far apart, but she was a sweet woman, and at 94 had a very full life. Still my heart aches for her children and grandchildren, as well as my gram. Now there are three: Gram and two older sisters, all widowed. They have each other and their own children, but it's got to be a specifically gutting feeling to reach your 80s and 90s and see your most beloved fade away, one by one. They've lived and outlived so much, so many. And I'm grateful that they're still here and in remarkably good shape. But I can't imagine how it feels to be one of those three dear women right now.

I don't have the words for an appropriate summary, and so a song.

Say it With Priest

I am in a creative rut, and I should very much like to whine about it, but in the spirit of America I will keep a stiff upper lip and fake it until I'm inspired. The nobility, it is staggering.

Aside from my own artistic turmoil, I'm having good feelings about the next stretch of days. This is for lots of reasons, and one big one is because I've got a true three-day weekend coming up. I traded working the holiday in the office for my usual Friday working at home. We don't have a July 4th tradition, and someone's got to hold down the fort in the workplace, so it might as well be me, and I might as well get three days in a row when I don't have to even check email. That makes me sound pretty spoiled, I guess I am, but I'm still psyched about it.

Along those lines, our big annual vacation is coming up in just a hair over three weeks, and though I am beyond, beyond craving the ocean and stars and campfires and family time, I'm in no rush for it to get here, because the sooner it comes, the sooner it will be over. We're mixing it up this year, not going for a full two weeks camping out as we have in the past, and though a part of me is sad to miss the entire fortnight, I only have so much vacation time, and I have a whole other family to spend time with. Any way you slice it, I come out looking like one lucky jerk. Which I am. Most of it has nothing to do with me, just circumstance. But I'm grateful for it, and if you think I'm apologetic or guilty about that, well...

And Would a Ladies Dancing Night Be Too Much to Ask?

Super sweet weekend. I love living smack dab in the middle of our two family units, when we can go north one Friday and be in my hometown, and go south the next to chill at Mike's. HR got to spend time with his paternal grandparents, plus an aunt and uncle and cousin. We all got to go for a swim in the blazing heat. Then we were able to make it back in time to see some out-of-town friends as they passed through.

As always, we have lots of New England road trippin' on this summer's calendar, but it's all in doable (and bladder-friendly - of utmost importance with a newly trained kid) chunks. I'm looking forward to every single plan on the horizon, as well as the free-form downtime in the city. I am aware that I have less and less use for the heat and humidity as I get older-- it's like, if I'm not at the beach, I'm probably going to be in the A/C. But I still think I love summer because of the possibilities. And so it goes, until fall comes and the weather won't cooperate accordingly and I get futilely pissed off about it. Till then: visions of impromptu al fresco playdates, cava on the patio, an occasion to wear the perfect sundress, a paperback in the sand and a half nekkid kid reacquainting himself with the wilderness. If all goes well, that's the next two months in my life.

Oh, and I'm not over my Dawes thing. If anything it's getting worse.

I Bleed Rainbow

It's really easy for me to go on and on about things I love and adore and worship and what-have-you but in the long run, I know are not that important. Surface things. Important in their own ways, but not really, real-life important. You know what I mean. For example, SYTYCD gives me worlds--planets--of true happiness (the street dancers this year! That opening top 20 number! Aaron and Jasmine H.! Gushing fangirl et cetera-ness!), but it's just a show. It's easy to go on and on because it doesn't truly awake the passion beast or expose my vulnerable human belly like what I'm about to address. And though I don't want to live in a world where my view could be taken as controversial, there are people who don't agree with me. That's how it is, and I don't like it. But in case there was any doubt, this is my side.

Yesterday the Supreme Court struck down the Defense of Marriage Act and Prop. 8. And there was much rejoicing. Including by yours truly, I mean it was a major victory for civil rights. But the celebration is tempered because there's still so much more to do before we get there, if we ever get there. You know what I mean? Gay men and women now have their freedom to marry recognized as a constitutional right which is AWESOME. But. For starters, there's still plenty of vocal discrimination. And I have retroactive anger because, hey, why hasn't it been recognized all along? There have never not been gay people, and they've never not been human beings. So I guess it just makes me sad to remember that the world is so fucking hateful sometimes. I can't see discrimination as anything other than hateful.

I was reading someone's blog yesterday, and she prefaced by saying something like, "I'm about to celebrate the Supreme Court's decision, so if you don't want to read about that, skip today's entry. No judgment." And I was like, really? I judge. I judge the shit out of you. If you are the kind of person who can look into your heart and truly believe that gay men and women are not entitled to civil rights as citizens of the country, then I will not miss you reading my blog. Maybe we shouldn't be friends. I just can't extend my line of thinking to accept that someone can be loving and also be homophobic. I'm not afraid of angering someone by saying it here. And I don't actually think that any of the whopping dozen or so readers I have are in the category I'm talking about, but I'm just saying, why apologize for a belief that just makes sense? Would you apologize to someone who doesn't believe in interracial marriage? It is not one single iota different. I'm not saying you don't have the right to your beliefs or to talk about them if you supported either DOMA or Prop. 8. I just think your beliefs are terrible.

Anyway, you can understand how it's a bit more difficult for me to even make a start at an entry like this because it's not cute or funny. It's visceral and unshakeable in me, I have no sense of humor about it, and I'm beyond the point where I can have a rational discussion with someone who disagrees. Usually I'm a pleaser, I like to keep everyone happy and on an even keel. But not at the expense of something like this.

I am sorry to take something as beautiful as yesterday's events and cast a shadow over them with my rage cage. Please know that I am totally, totally thrilled with the verdict for the people I love who are gay and for all people. It makes my heart soar that HR will grow up in a society where marriage equality is the norm. That's the bottom line.

Let's dance!

Transformation

I've been very lucky to make some amazing friends in my adult life. And they are not second string by any means, they are dear to me as if they've been here all along, and even though I met them at a later point in my existence, most of them are already old friends. History is history, it just has different periods over a lifetime. When you lose one of your own from the olden times though, one that you knew from before you were a fully formed human in the world, there is no comfort like the friends you grew up with, who can practically read your mind. Being together helps in a way nothing and nobody else can.

This weekend I was surrounded by people I've known forever, who knew and loved Niki in the same way that I did, and to be together made a rough occasion a beautiful one. Nobody had to say anything in actual terms, it was assumed that we all shared the same sorrow and loss. Jumping back into our shared jokes and references was our way of saying "I'm sorry and I miss her and I love her and I love you." It was the funeral that we, the living, needed to move on. The laughter and memories and the few but genuine tears were cleansing for me. It was a gift to see friends with whom I haven't exactly lost touch, but just haven't seen in years. To meet their babies. To hug their parents, who are my parents in a way. To cast a gauzy, romanticized eye into the best of our past but also catch up, and see into each other's present, our future. We will always be friends. Family. And it is unfortunate that it becomes most evident at the most sorrowful times, but the thing is, that's when the reinforcement is really important. I could always, always do better, reach out more, be a better friend. But when it comes down to it, we will have each other. And I hope we do for many, many more years.

Saying goodbye at the end of the evening was the hardest part, because next time any of us meet, it will just be the post-Niki world. There's a new shorthand to be learned to encompass that. To Niki's mom and step-dad, to her cousin and the rest of her family, to her husband who has been in her life only a short time less than I have (and, whether he likes it or not, will always be one of us): thank you for everything you did for Niki in her life, and all you will do to keep her memory alive. I love you all, and you are family and that doesn't go away. To our mutual friends, and to my own family, who claims Niki in their way, to Mike, who got to know Niki over the past 15+ years and form shared memories with us, I couldn't weather this without you.

This is a hard time for every one of us, but because of you, my broken heart is also full. I'm not at peace with Niki's death, not even close, but the denial is over. The next step begins. I know who will be there to catch me when I fall back, just as I'll be there too, for whoever needs it.

I have more thoughts about the occasion: about my own issues with the church made anger a stand-in for grief during some parts of the service, about how strange it is that my parents should be spending their 40th anniversary at the very site of their wedding and reception, but with a tragic bent, about how HR will grow up only knowing Niki in the past tense, and how I don't yet have the words to explain where she's gone. How unbelievable and unfair it is that she died at all. But that's not where I want my focus to linger. When I think back upon this memorial, all I want to keep in my mind's eye that Niki was present. I am not a person of faith, but I do believe in some things, and the power of love is the cornerstone. I believe that all the love for Niki in one space at one time summoned her. We couldn't see or hear her, but she was there in every breath, every tear, every snort-laugh, every color of the jell-o shot rainbow.

Niki is love, now. And love is here.

Hearts and Hearts

I have a million thoughts and feelings about the weekend, mostly very warm and positive. But now that it's over, I have to say I'm adrift. I'm feeling pretty lost, empty, not entirely all right. It's not that I'm worried about this becoming a lasting condition, I think it's normal, but while I'm down in it, it's hard to look up.

Tomorrow I will write about the experience of Niki's celebration. Today, I'll seek distraction. Work helps some, former members of New Edition help more.