Eastern Washington
The Timelessness of Red Rocks
Ageless all around!
Snow Shovels & Scrabble
The amount of snow on the ground is a bit daunting, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a game of Scrabble and some good tunes.
Know When to Hold ‘Em
Have to spin some Kenny Rogers this morning, right? #PascoDays #RIPKenny
Free (Fallin’) Association
Early morning in the car, traveling to Vancouver for a work obligation. Can’t say that I mind the solitude of a three-hour drive, and the space that it provides.
I toggle through the radio stations until something sticks: Tom Petty, “Free Fallin”. And then comes the same memory that it always conjures up for me: road trip to an early 90’s Apple Cup in Pullman, in a rented RV. Most of us are busy with keg cups and Tom Petty in the back of the RV, while one lonely friend has drawn the unenviable task of driving our sorry drunk asses across the state. In the snow. (Also musically relevant to that trip: “Radar Love”). In all fairness, however, there were two Apple Cup road trips, and the two have mostly merged in my brain as one memory, with the exception of the game outcomes.
Thankful that I am not in a beer-soaked RV on this morning, these things now come to mind:
- I can’t believe there was a rental company who would rent an RV to a bunch of kids in their early 20’s;
- Thank you Karl, for driving, which had to have sucked almost as much as whatever damage deposit you probably didn’t get back;
- Damn, I really should have gone to see Tom Petty in concert at some point before it was too late.
Even Sadder Than a Wedding Dress in a Thrift Store….
….it turns out, is a mix tape in a thrift store. I never realized this until I found a stack of them at my local Goodwill. I was intrigued by the one called “Wedding Music/Favorite Love Songs #1″, so I picked it up (What happened?! Was the wedding cancelled?). I glanced at the list of songs only long enough to see Mariah Carey well-represented, but then I felt compelled to put it down. It was too much like reading someone’s diary. I couldn’t do it.
Ah, mix tapes. Our kids will never know the magic of a mix tape. They will craft digital playlists, I’m sure. But nothing so time-stamped and permanent as a mix tape with their handwriting on it.
I freely admit that I am a sentimental hoarder. I’ve got all of my old tapes, even my earliest mix tapes made with my sister and cousin (if you can really call them mix tapes… really it was just us talking into a Panasonic tape recorder, telling stupid stories and singing songs).
Another gem is the “Workout Mix” tape that I made in college, with appropriate-tempo songs for a routine of exercises. Given that it was 1989, of course the lineup included INXS, Prince, and Neneh Cherry. The last song, the “cool down”, was – what else – “Nite & Day” by Al B Sure.
Then there was the mix tape trilogy made for a post-college road trip (“Driving Tape #1, #2, and #3”, of course.) Number 1 has got you covered with your basic R.E.M, Pearl Jam, and U2, with some Naughty by Nature thrown in for reasons I don’t recall. Number 2 was the mellow tape, with Luther Vandross and Johnny Gill – you know, for when the road asked you, “come on, let’s bring it down now….”. Number 3, sadly, is no longer with us. But it’s quite possible that it contained country music.
My favorite mix tape, though, is one that my long-distance boyfriend sent me in college. Oddly enough, I only remember one song on it – “Cars that Go Boom”, by L’trimm (wasn’t he romantic?). But what I love about that tape is that, inter-mixed with songs, my boyfriend talked about what was going on in his apartment, or what he was studying. He introduced each song like a DJ. “Cars that Go Boom” reminded him, he said, of me and my best friend/roommate (were we like “Tigra & Bunny”?). I haven’t listened to the tape since then, but I love the idea that his 1989 voice is preserved on it. I can’t even remember what his voice sounded like then. I’m saving the tape like a fine bottle of wine. Someday the time will be right, and he and I will listen to it with all the reverence it deserves (through a series of twists and turns, we ended up getting married years later.)
I really hope that the mix tapes I made for others never made their way onto a thrift store shelf (in the garbage = fine!). And now I’m feeling like I should have purchased those thrift store mix tapes and given them a proper burial. I need to think more about that one. As should you — what mix tapes do you treasure, and what mix creations of yours might still be floating around out there?
In the mean time, though, welcome to McMahon Hall, and enjoy the mellow grooves of Al B Sure (closing your eyes and pretending that it’s on a cassette tape, of course).
Magicially Delicious Music
The occasion: A “Rock Star” practice for my daughter’s softball team, the Lucky Charms. Her assignment: Team DJ, tasking her with creating an iPod mix to play on a boombox at practice. The girls could dress like rock stars, dance, and play some softball while they were at it.
Her team has played together for three years, and watching them serves as a reminder of all that is good about being a young girl, and being on a team. They are sweet and funny and do lots of silly cheers, but make no mistake – they are hitters and will run you down when necessary.
So she and I sat down at the computer, going through my iTunes library, with her giving a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to each song I suggested. We’ve been down this road before; both of my kids have created lots of mixes (“I’d Choose Creme Brulee”). For their own use, they have talked me into songs that would never have otherwise made their way into my iTunes — yes, Katy Perry and “Party Rockers” LMFAO, I am talking about you.
For this occasion, she had specific criteria in mind. Some of her usual favorites were rejected as being too slow or too “embarrassing” (what?), and at least one song was selected because “it’s so weird, my friends have to hear it!” Predictably, any song with “girl” in it made the cut, as did anything by Michael Jackson. I was proud of her for adding The Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby”, and while she does love that song, I’m guessing she added it as tribute to her friend of the same name.
Marrying my husband has made me appreciate bands like AC/DC, Bon Jovi, KISS, et. al. I never listened to those bands back in the day (in fact, I was scared of the KISS album covers that the older neighbor boys had), but it is the music of my husband’s youth. And when you merge your lives and your CD’s, eventually you acquire a taste for the music of your loved one. [Well, within limits – I’m still never listening to Pink Floyd. (“Heaven From Hell…..Guess Which This is”)].
“You MUST put some AC/DC on there”, my husband said. And he had a good point. Think about it – what was the song that got people on the dance floor at your prom? Or at a wedding with an otherwise lame DJ? (All the more reason to not have dancing – “The Beginning of the Soundtrack”). Or, in recent years, at your kids’ school auction? (WW’ers….you know who you are).
That’s right – AC/DC’s “Shook Me All Night Long” is always a sure thing. Obviously I’m revealing my 1980’s/40-something demographic here, but really – try it and you will see what I am talking about.
I played the iconic opening guitar riff of that song.
Her blue eyes widened……”YES!” she said.
And so it begins.
Quality Time in the Back of a Van
Only two of my major life decisions have an exact date of origin, meaning that I can pinpoint exactly when they were made. One of these is the decision to not move back to my home town.
Since New Year’s Eve, I’ve had U2 on the brain. (“A 1987 Bono for the New Year”). I’ve pulled out all of the old albums, so it was only a matter of time before this nugget came my way.
There is a short list of music that I associate with the Fall of my Freshman year of college, for all the obvious and not-so-obvious reasons: R.E.M., Guns n’ Roses, and U2, with a dash of The Doors on the side. These were the albums playing in the dorm halls, fueling our parties, and bonding us with new friends.
U2’s Rattle and Hum was released that fall, and for many of us, it was cause for an expedition out of the dorms, to purchase it at Tower Records on the Ave (on cassette tape, of course. And by the way…..R.I.P. Tower Records). The day it came out, you could walk down the hallways of McMahon Fifth South and hear it wafting from every other door.
Those first few months away from home, I didn’t have reason to venture much farther than the University District. But my RA had an internship that gave her access to free passes to movie premieres. When she scored enough tickets, we headed out of the U District for the night (one of these outings, of course, was to see the U2 movie “Rattle and Hum”). The movies were held at theaters all over town, giving me a chance to see other parts of the city.
On the night when the Big Decision was made, whatever movie we were seeing was playing at Uptown Theatre on lower Queen Anne. I had never been to Queen Anne, although I would later live there for four years. We piled into a van, and I loved the feeling of not knowing where we were going, and not being in charge of getting us home. I was along for the ride.
We traveled down I-5, towards the sparkling lights of downtown – very far from the wheatfields and desert vistas of my hometown. I had never consciously thought of it, but maybe in the back of my head, I assumed that, after college, I would move back home.
But on this night, looking out that van window, I thought to myself: This is my city now.
In a strange way, the world just opened up. I said to myself — I don’t have to move back there. I could live here (or anywhere else), forever. And in that moment, I knew that I would never again live in my hometown.
I had fallen in love with a city. The hook set even further with the onset of grunge music a few years later, when Seattle became the self-proclaimed music capital of the world (and maybe it was, for a while). If there was a better place to be in college during those years, I don’t know where it was.
I’ve now lived in Seattle longer than I lived in my hometown, a milestone that did not go unnoticed. The University District haunts that I knew are mostly gone. The entire city has cocktail lounges where once there were dive bars, and the grimiest of my old college bars, although still in business, now proclaims itself to be a “nightclub”. I’ve watched the influx of California and East Coast transplants, with their incessant whining about the rain. But I still don’t see myself living anywhere else.
And the other life decision with a precise point of origin? I’m keeping that one to myself, but I will say that, in true Pacific Northwest fashion, it happened on a crystal clear September day, on a trail about halfway up the side of Mt. Rainier.
A 1987 Bono for the New Year
I found the old t-shirt at the bottom of a drawer, and I am taking it as a sign. Ordinarily it wouldn’t be, but fresh in my memory were two things: 1) a recent viewing of “It Might Get Loud” that reminded me how much I love U2 and The Edge’s trademark guitar riffs, and 2) a discussion with a friend at a New Years’ Eve party, where I lamely tried to justify why I didn’t buy tickets to the upcoming U2 show.
On the heels of these two things, the discovery of the Joshua Tree concert t-shirt (buried deep in a drawer) was therefore quickly elevated to “sign” status.
Long before there was Pearl Jam in my life, there was U2. I loved their distinct sound, and to the junior high small town girl that I was, they seemed worldly and sophisticated. I had The Unforgettable Fire on cassette and made a mix tape for myself, shuffling the songs into an order that I liked, and repeating others. (So high tech, wasn’t I…. to have a double tape deck for dubbing?)
The Joshua Tree album nursed me through the late Summer and Fall of 1987, after my older boyfriend broke my heart and ditched me for the bright lights of college and college girls. But I had Bono, the boyfriend had never liked U2 anyway, and the music on that album was perfect for an autumn of hometown teenage angst.
Years later, I’ve worn the Joshua Tree t-shirt a lot, although I feel like a fraud when I do, since I never went to a show on that tour (the closest they came to my small town was 200 miles away). I do, however, love the shirt. It belonged to a guy whom I dated later that fall. It was a brief and mostly forgettable relationship of convenience, borne out of the fact that our friends were dating. But he did have great taste in music, and I got custody of the t-shirt.
Which brings me to the New Year’s Eve conversation.
U2 was supposed to play here last summer, and the concert got re-scheduled for this coming June, due to Bono’s back surgery. My friend and I were talking about The Edge, and then discussion turned to the upcoming show, and how excited he was for it. He asked whether I had tickets, and I told him no.
I explained how I had seen U2 in 1992 at the Tacoma Dome, and had been underwhelmed. I had been so excited for that show, to see one of my long-time favorite bands. But the band was in a weird phase then; they had decided not to play any pre-Unforgettable Fire songs. The venue was terrible, more suited for monster trucks than concerts. I heard nearly all of Joshua Tree, which was great, but mostly Achtung Baby. No “Sunday Bloody Sunday”, no “New Year’s Day”, none of the early stuff. I didn’t get my Concert Moment (“Oh, You Like the Banjo, Eh?”), and I’ve never felt the need to go and see them again.
I explained this to my friend, earnestly. Was I trying to make myself believe it? His look said it all: You call yourself a longtime fan, a teenager of the 80’s, and you don’t want to go to this concert?
But therein lies the problem: I want to see 1987 U2, not the U2 from 2011. I want Bono and The Edge with long hair, before they were UN ambassadors and had back problems. I want “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “New Year’s Day” and all of Unforgettable Fire and Joshua Tree, not any new stuff that has already been featured in an iPod commercial by the time you see it.
I understand that when bands have been around for awhile, they can’t make everyone happy. Really, I do. And I get the fact that the music needs to stay interesting for them, too. Still, as a concert-goer, I am selfish. I want what I want. And what I want is U2 from 1987.
However, the fact that it’s not 1987’s U2 was probably my friend’s most persuasive point. He said “you know, with the back problems and all….they aren’t going to be around forever”. A reminder of our mortality, and on the heels of my Big Birthday, too. Point taken…. now I am looking for tickets.
The Unfairness of The Fair
I would not really call myself a country music enthusiast, but I’ve experimented. I’ve tried it. One might say I’ve dabbled. I do appreciate country music; in particular, the way that most country songs can make me cry at the drop of a (cowboy) hat.
I pulled out a bunch of old country CD’s the other day and uploaded them to iTunes, intending to give some tired playlists a shot in the arm. Now I’m thinking that maybe certain songs should have a weepy mix all their own. (Seriously, email me and I will send you a playlist that is guaranteed to make you cry.)
I did cry a bit at these old tunes, but what I also found is that I smiled when, unexpectedly, my thoughts turned to my Grandma.
As kids, my sisters and I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house. My grandma has endured as one of the biggest influences on my life, and a true icon of unconditional love. Of course my grandparents’ house had the requisite 70’s enormous console TV……broadcasting shows like The Brady Bunch, The Lawrence Welk Show and Hee Haw. I seem to recall that my grandpa didn’t like Lawrence Welk, but Hee Haw was fair game.
Some of my favorite childhood memories are of going to the county fair with my grandparents. We’d see the exhibits and ride a few rides, then we’d see the music show. I wish now that I had paid attention to who we saw. It was always country music, but the only one I can really recall is Buck Owens. Or maybe it was Roy. At any rate, it was one of the Hee Haw guys.
Later, after Grandpa was gone, my sisters and I would go to the fair with Grandma and, in usual teenage fashion, be embarrassed to be be seen at the very ‘square’ country music show. My mom assured me that cooler acts were coming to the fair soon. In fact, she was right. Rick Springfield just played my hometown fair this summer. Apparently by “soon”, Mom meant “in 25 years”.
It breaks my heart that my grandma didn’t live long enough to meet my kids. I talk about her a lot, and tell them funny little stories about her. I’ve got to remember to tell them these tidbits:
1. When I first started dating my husband, Grandma thought he looked like Randy Travis. He doesn’t, but maybe that’s one reason she loved him right away.
2. In the midst of the 80’s, she decided that she liked Billy Idol. I think that my older cousin bought her a Billy Idol tee shirt, but in all fairness, I could be confusing it with her “Fonz” shirt. (Either way, how cool of a grandma is that?)
3. She saw Hank Williams Jr. in concert and hated it. She said that he was too dirty, and he was drunk, and he was a disgrace to his father. Harsh words, but Gram had opinions.
4. The song “Proud to be an American” always made her cry. Now it makes me cry, because it reminds me of her. Good tears though; I feel lucky to have had her in my life for as long as I did. And maybe, for my Grandma, it’s time for me to give country music another try.
Corduroy Notes 