Mish Mash

"Buttercup! Buttercup!"

/ Deb / 2 Comments

My sister dubbed it a “90’s Love Fest”, and that’s exactly what it was. Complete with Doc Martens and long shorts, worn with a long flannel, slyly shouldering a vintage “Drop in the Park” tee shirt.

I’ve been to lots of Pearl Jam shows over the years, but have never seen the grunge look out in such full effect as on this evening. Perhaps Brad’s first show in years, and the potential of a (surviving members of) Mother Love Bone reunion, were enough to bring them all out. At any rate, The Showbox was packed, and we were all ready for a little walk down Seattle’s musical memory lane.

And what a walk it was. I lost track of the number of different musical collaborations up on stage….various versions of back-in-the-day Seattle bands, culminating with a reunion of the surviving members of Mother Love Bone that blew my mind.

I never again saw the dude that I had seen in line with the “Drop in the Park” shirt, but it hit me at some point during the evening that he could not have been at that show, unless he was about 10 years old at the time.  A free Pearl Jam concert at Magnuson Park, three weeks into my law school career — I was at the show, instead of in the law library, which kind of speaks for itself.   I bought one of the shirts but never wore it and ended up giving it away…..(so who knows, maybe my old shirt was at The Showbox with me,  on someone else’s body?)

It was refreshing to see the ubiquitous Seattle drink-in-hand head-nod: that disinterested method of rocking out that I only see from vintage Seattle concert-goers. And no cell phones taking pictures; it could have been 1992 all over again. Except for the fact that I now have two kids (and an awesome husband who offered to stay home so I could have a night out with my sister).

The cab dropped us off at 2:30am, and I spent the next day paying for it. Totally worth it though; as my husband quipped, “that’s the life of a rock star, man”. Exactly.

Good Tunes, Like Sisters, Come in Groups of Three

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For anyone who has ever said that I am too structured, check out how I’m living on the edge these days:

Instead of listening to designated playlists, or “shuffle” on my ipod, lately I’ve been listening to songs in alphabetical order.

I love things in groups of three, and I love juxtaposition (both the word, and the actual effect). Imagine my delight when the following three songs played in this order:

1. Don’t Disturb This Groove (The Station);
2. Don’t Drink the Water (DMB); and
3. Don’t Stop Believing (Journey)

I laughed out loud at how different these three songs are, and how I love them all nearly equally, for very different reasons:

“Don’t Disturb This Groove” conjures visions of my middle sister, cruising her Honda with the sunroof open, the wind fluttering through her big hair. I don’t know if she ever actually listened to this song (as opposed to the Color Me Badd that I know for a fact was blared), but it’s all within the same genre….the 80’s/90’s slow groove….whatever happened to that?

“Don’t Drink the Water”…..both of my sisters, numerous DMB shows at The Gorge (“there’s plutonium in the water”?). Dave opened my favorite show ever, in Vegas, with this one. Good times all around.

“Don’t Stop Believing”…..again, my sisters, this time with a K-Tel tape and a boombox, and a family camping trip to Yellowstone, listening over and over until the batteries warbled it to a stop.

Three little tunes, different stages of my life, peacefully co-existing side by side in the digital age. Perfect.

Deondre the Life Coach

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The song that has been rocking in my head for the past few days is accompanied by a dancing guy in a red track suit, a Kenny G lookalike, and a wrestler with a snake on his shoulders. The SNL skit of the fake TV show “What Up With That?” is hilarious on its own, but doubly hilarious when talked about and improvised all weekend with friends.

We got back from Las Vegas late last night. I should be exhausted, but instead I feel like I have the freshest perspective that I have had in a long while. Was it the cocktails? The gambling? The In-n-Out burger? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter.

I did a triathlon last summer. I had a mantra that I repeated in my head, throughout: “a clear head, and presence of purpose”. In the water with each stroke, trying not to panic: a clear head, and presence of purpose. As I pedaled my bike, making it closer to the finish, free of any mechanical issues: a clear head, and presence of purpose. It was not until the final mile of the run, when I knew that I was going to finish, that the mantra left my head. At that point, all I could do was grin.

For some reason, that popped into my head today – as a similar refrain, but with a “what up with that” edge. OK, so I need to figure out what I want to do. (What up with that?) And it hasn’t come to me yet on its own. (What up with that?) Or perhaps it has, and I am too scared to make any steps. (What UP with that?)

I love music, but I also love the written word. I think that’s probably why I liked being a lawyer, because lawyering is all about words. Lawyers love to argue over seemingly obvious things such as the meaning of the word “reasonable” (hence volumes of case law on the “reasonable person” standard..…and, even better, in the realm of sexual harassment, the “reasonable woman” standard).

When Bill Clinton (a former lawyer) dumbfounded the nation with his infamous “it depends on what the meaning of ‘is’ is” statement, I totally got it. Only lawyers love that kind of statement. Only lawyers hear that statement and say “you know, that’s a good point”.

And that’s the part of being a lawyer that I do miss: the words; the reasoning; getting from point “A” to point “B” via a well-structured argument.

The art of writing has been calling to me for a long time, and I’ve either ignored it, or dismissed it, believing that I had to choose either the law or writing, because my love for both was incompatible. But I now realize that they are, really, one in the same, and that is where I should be.

I am confident that it is possible distill it all down into the perfect career that nestles right into my life. I don’t know yet what that will look like, but I feel like I am on the right path. (What up with THAT?!)

I’m finally starting to feel like I’m out of the water. I’ve racked my bike. Now I just have to put on my running shoes, and get to the grin.

Who Ya Gonna Call?

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I recently had a dream where, throughout, I was wearing an aqua blue tube top. What was unique about this tube top (aside from being a tube top) was that, in the center of it, there was a huge Ghostbusters logo.

The rest of the dream is fuzzy….but near the end, I looked down and noticed that, to my dismay, the logo was peeling off (must have been a 70’s iron-on), and that the top was starting to tear in the middle. This upset me greatly.

Dreams are inherently odd and usually defy meaning, but……REALLY? A Ghostbusters tube top? What could this possibly mean? That I am watching too many ghost shows? That I have a hankering for Charlie’s Angels fashion? Or perhaps, deep down, it saddens me that Ray Parker Jr. was never recognized for the musical genius he truly is.

Eddie and Me on the Farm

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I have not written anything in awhile — here or anywhere else. Truth is, the holidays suck every last bit of energy out me, both physical and otherwise. At times I love the whirlwind, but I am usually glad to see the holidays end, and get back into a routine.

Occupying my time these days, predictably, is Pearl Jam. I love the new album. Actually, “love” might not be a strong enough word….I am completely obsessed. I bought it when it was released last summer, and liked it, but more recently it seems to have taken on new energy. Regardless of the true motivation behind the songs, they have felt like the theme songs to my life for the past few months. If I were a musician, that’s what I would want my music to do….so kudos to PJ for that.

My latest favorite is “Unthought Known”. I really wish I had written these lyrics:

Feel the sky blanket you with gems and rhinestones…
See the path cut by the moon, for you to walk on.

I don’t know for certain, but I am pretty sure that Eddie might need to move to Walla Walla too.

Loud, Louder….Quietest

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Yesterday was a grumpy day. I pulled out all the stops, from Pearl Jam to Live to Dave Matthews. My motto is that there is no problem that can’t be solved by loud music on a pair of headphones. But yesterday was not to be, and nothing helped, not even going for a run.

Today – quiet. Sunny, clear weather…quiet. A quiet walk around the lake, followed by a quiet house.

Then it came to me, over a pickle on a chopping block. A tiny little breakthrough, simple and yet profound all at the same time.

And now, finally, some internal quiet.

As Fresh as a Bright Blue Sky

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GNR’s “Sweet Child O’ Mine” may seem like a strange love song, but for me it is. Not-so-distant memories of the heat of an Eastern Washington summer, a new romance, Axl on cassette, and freshly cut grass. Life was exciting, the world was open, and the possibilities were endless.

I pulled out some old Guns-n-Roses the other day, and loved how it took me back.

Listening now with older ears, it served as a timely reminder that, despite the passage of 20 years in the blink of an eye, things are really not too different. The world is still open, anything is still possible, and that boy’s smile still warms my heart.

Heroin Girl, or Heroine Girl?

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Like a prisoner being led to Alcatraz. Or a cow to slaughter. A death march. The summer of 1995…the Bar Exam Summer, also known as the summer that never was. For many reasons good and bad, it remains on record as one of the strangest times in my life, and is best viewed in hindsight.

I have a vivid memory of driving to dinner the night before Day One of the exam, near my hotel, listening to Everclear: “Let’s just drive your car, we could drive all day, let’s just get the hell away from here”. I had chuckled at the appropriateness. Despite Everclear’s encouragement to the contrary, I took the exam and passed.

And again, last Friday, as I drove to a CLE conference full of lawyers…..eerily familiar, coincidentally listening to Everclear and feeling that same sense of dread. Do I really want to be part of this club again? Did I ever really want to be? What does it say about my chosen career if I feel like it crushes my spirit?

A cup of coffee, an old colleague, and slowly throughout the day I felt like a lawyer again. (Privity? I think I remember that word. And the Faragher/Ellerth standard sounds vaguely familiar.)

I drove home feeling inspired, and thankful that I had plowed through the dread to gain a little more insight. I still blared Everclear across the bridge, though.

Gather Around

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If I were to make a list of songs that just ooze sunshine for me, this would be near the top of the list. “The Day Brings” always makes me smile. It’s got the catchy little piano groove, the drum skiff, and it’s just darn chipper. Besides, how can you not love the cool mod living room on the album cover, and of course the band name….Brad.

A beautiful crisp fall morning, I walked to school with my 2nd grader on his scooter, then I ran home. Sandwiched in between G. Love and Special Sauce tunes, there was Brad.

And on this run-of-the-mill Thursday, Brad worked its magic. A tiny spring in my stride, and a private acknowledgement that I have much to be thankful for, and no major complaints. And really, what perfect lyrics:

See what the day brings. See what makes you laugh, and see what makes you sing.

Good advice, on any day.

The Playlist of Me

/ Deb / 1 Comment

I have a horoscope hanging by my computer: “They say if you do what you love, the money will follow. They don’t say how long it will take to get there, however. It could be a while. Do what you love, anyway”.

I used to be a lawyer. I might be one again someday; both of my kids are now in school and I find myself searching for the next chapter of my life as I transition out of stay-at-home-mom status. I think I used to love being a lawyer, but I can’t really remember why.

What I do love is music. Especially live music, which is central to almost all of my favorite memories with my husband and my sisters. I listen to music every day without fail — in the car, the kitchen, while on a run. It is a daily barometer of my mood and my energy level. Some days call for Pearl Jam, others call for David Gray. (Sidebar: the iPod has got to be one of the best inventions of all time. Where else could you have all of your music in one place, and divided into playlists to suit your every whim?)

I especially love where music takes me….how a song can remind you of a precise moment in time, and of the “you” that existed then. Nothing else does this like music. Every day, we build and edit our soundtrack.

So I thought it would be fun to blog about my daily musical life. I don’t claim to have cutting edge tastes or be an expert. In fact, a lot of my favorite music is downright cheesy. But music is a big part of who I am, and since I am trying to re-discover who that is, music seems like a good place to start.