I think I like "Hole in my Heart" better, but it wouldn't let me embed that.
I've been liking music like this these days. I'm way into Alphabeat and now this lady La Roux. It reminds me of Rick Astley, so yeah. LOVE it. You may have heard her single "Bulletproof" which is in Perez Hilton's words, "amazeballs." Ch ch check it out. Anyone else like Alphabeat? Fun stuff that makes me want to dance :)
This video was like a roller coaster for me... a Betty Page roller coaster. I ran a gamut of emotions from "Whoa! Beyonce's flippin HOT!" to "Ugh... this is needy." to "Dang, I wish I could wear lavender lipstick" to "Aww she's dusting her Grammys" and finally to "YEAH! He is dumb!"
The song is definitely not without its issues, but I like the idea of it being a a problem with the dude and not Beyonce. After all, what's not to love?
Apologies in advance for the bummer post, but I'm feeling compelled.
It's been one month since my dad died, which means that it's been one whole month and only one month since one of the people who helped make sense of this world disappeared from this mortal coil. I'm not a fan of cliches, but to say that this month has felt both incredibly long and incredibly short is the best I can do right now.
Most kids love their dads, if for no other reason, because they are dads. But it's no hyperbole to say that my dad was one of my favorite people, period. He was a genuine joy to be around; his sharp wit and unparalleled pun mastery were something to behold. Even when he'd lose his temper, his colorful conglomerates of profanity delighted me.
He was a wonderful singer, songwriter, and guitar player. A notably dubious claim to fame was having his song "Good Girls" on the soundtrack for the 1978 Linda Blair roller skating vehicle, Roller Boogie. It's worth noting that my dad's song was 2nd on the soundtrack, right after Cher's "Hell On Wheels" (heard in the trailer below).
Johnnie Coolrock - "Good Girls"
My dad had a theory that another L.A.-based band, the Knack (of "My Sharona" fame), was ripping him off. "I started wearing skinny ties, then they started wearing skinny ties!" That the Knack released a song called "Good Girls Don't" just a few months later only further fueled this conspiracy theory.
In the end, playing some shows here and there and collecting royalties from the soundtrack of a movie that flopped were not enough to earn a living. My dad took up house painting to make money, adopting the moniker "John D. Painter."
He has a real knack for picking colors and soon became the painter of many famous L.A. folk. His favorite celebrity client was Ms. Farrah Fawcett, who apparently had an entire room in her home full of Angels-era memorabilia. In the mid-80s, my dad wrote a screenplay about an L.A. house painter called Navajo White. He wanted John Cusack - a fellow Chicagoan and John - to play the lead role of the house painter.
While living in L.A., my sister would spend the occasional weekend night at his apartment. There was something always unfamiliar there, like it was a space that was never properly equipped to have children in it. But it was comforting, insofar as my dad was there. One night, I told my dad that I couldn't sleep. He got up and made us hot fudge sundaes. I remember it well because it was one of the few childhood moments I shared with him where I was not competing with my sister for his gaze. It was very nice.
As I grew older, circumstances at my mom's house made me want to get out of there. By this time, my dad was back in the Chicago-area, living one town over from the town he grew up in: Homewood, IL. I never really thought of using the words "running away from home" to describe this situation, but my aunt gave them to me, and I'd say they fit. At 15, I packed up two suitcases and got on a plane to Chicago. I had never lived with my dad, but anything had to be better than my mom's house at that point. When I arrived, the air of uncertainty around us both was thick as butter - how would this work? What would it look like? We got to my dad's apartment and he had set up a spartan-but-homey room for me. A twin bed with a t0o-soft mattress, a dresser, an easy chair, and a mobile he'd crafted out of metal discs. He let me choose a color for him to paint the room. I picked dark purple.
To my surprise and delight, living with my dad was wonderful. We made and ate meals together and he was interested and involved in my schoolwork. It was the family life I hadn't had, but had longed for, for years. We made a great team. When my dad decided to once again put the painting business aside to pursue another dream, I tried to help out as best I could. He opened Sputnik, a coffeehouse and music venue that quickly became a beacon for suburban young folks with little to do. It was great and he loved it. Even when he complained, he loved it. Sputnik had a good run of two years, but the morning revenue from commuters was curbed when Starbucks opened a few doors down.
Not long after Sputnik closed, I went off to college. Not long after that Hanna was born, and not too long after that I went back to Chicago for an internship. After college, I moved back to Chicago, partially because I was in love with a boy there, but also because I could be close to my dad again. I'd be at his house every weekend, doing laundry, barbecuing, going for walks in the nearby woods, and fishing. He would book us gigs to perform as a father/daughter act. I am immeasurably grateful for the many times we were about to sing together.
I moved to the bay area to start graduate school, and my dad was proud, but sad to see me leave. He sent me off with a Tupperware full of trail mix and an atlas. For the first time in a long while, I would not be coming back that weekend. We were both choked up as I drove off, but my dad did a better job of hiding it.
I was at work when I found out that he'd been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A quick Wikipedia search told me it was a terminal illness. And despite sitting on this knowledge for 10 months, his rapid decline came as a surprise. Again, I was at work when my stepmom sent me an email. "I lost my Dad to cancer so I know a bit how it feels to hear that someone is starting to leave thisworld. I think that is starting to happen now." That night, I was on a plane.
One night when I was alone at the hospice with him, I put my head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. His sternum was a rough ridge compared to what it had been in a fleshier, healthier body. I thought about resting on his chest when he'd read me stories at his apartment for the weekend. His heartbeat was stronger then, his body younger and cancerless; that's the safest space I'll ever know.
Lost for things to say, I sang a song that we sang together many times. "Come on wheels... take this boy away..."
John & Tate Brazas - "Wheels (Cobain Room Session)"
Once he finally stopped breathing, people said I was holding up remarkably well. At the funeral lunch, I was cracking jokes and enjoying a Manhattan. It seems weird, but Alison Bechdel - who also laughed while telling folks about her dead dad - summed it perfectly for me in her graphic novel, Fun Home: "The idea that my vital, passionate father was decomposing in the grave was ridiculous."
Since we're leaving in June-ish, I've started my SF bucket list: Things I want to do before my SF life dies. I figure these things will be good to check off my list while I still have a gaggle of friends around to help me. I hope you will support me in these endeavors.
1. Stay out all night and roam the SF streets, watch the sunrise over the city, eat breakfast at 5am, and sleep all day
2. Participate in a dance contest
3. Film the Party Starters commercial and set up a website
4. Start a 60's girl group (see next item)
5. Fashion a beehive
6. Create my own Home Shopping Craigslist Network complete with a call center backdrop Inspiration: Brenda Dickson
(i couldn't find a plain screenshot of this scene)
I guess this is my wish list. Two months isn't quite enough time to do it all. The first two are doable. Anyone want to participate/help?
Miss you already, Megan Marie: the visual designer/dancer in the dark/the esprit de corps
After three weeks of work travel, I'm back! I've missed you all!
My last business trip was to Jackson, MS where local tipped me off to a Jim Henson exhibit happening at the Mississippi Museum of Art. Being a Muppet fan for as long as I can remember, I knew I had to see it. Naturally, I was thrilled to see Kermit and the Mahna Mahna puppets, but there were some Jim Henson rarities on display: early sketches, psychadelic 60s experimental films, and photos of him playing dress-up as a child. I've always thought of Kermit the Frog as a total dreamboat; he's sweet and sincere, plays banjo, rides a bike, and loves hanging out on logs. But the playfulness, weird humor, and dreamy qualities present in Jim Henson's entire body of work was enough to make me want to add "find Jim Henson; get lawfully wed" to my growing "time travel to-do" list. It doesn't hurt that he's sort of a babe in that "bearded freak" way.
The exhibit also put Jim Henson on another growing list of mine: "Soul Brothers/Soul Sisters."
The idea behind the list is simple and very 6th grade: people in the public eye that I feel a certain bond or connection with. It's romantic in the way that I'd like to assume that I could BFFs with any of these folks (even though I'm basing this assumption entirely off a public body of work... whatever). Here's some other folks on the list:
Dick VanDyke - I often state that I want to be in a polyamorous marriage with Dick VanDyke and Mary Tyler Moore. When people realize that I'm serious, it becomes more creepy than cute, but doesn't make it any less true. This man does what matters: sings (with animated characters) and dances (with animated characters). He's goofy in an irrestible way. My aunt sometimes waits on his old-man self in her restaurant and she said he whistles to himself and skips. She thinks he's nuts, but I think he's perfect.
Neko Case - second Neko shout-0ut on this blog! Neko is like an older, wiser sister who keeps shit hella real with you. She's a badass with a soft side; a self-proclaimed tomboy who can still take sexy pictures. She's a public female who offers a more complex idea of femininity. She's a lady pilot and an animal lover with a golden voice. I'll sing myself hoarse belting her songs in my car. "The next time you say forever, I will punch you in your face." I LOVE HER!
Nicholas Gurewitch - not a household name, but the genius (GENIUS!) behind my favorite comic strip of all time, The Perry Bible Fellowship. We're all familiar with the "sense of humor" cliche, but I would gladly go for an arranged marriage with this man based just off his now-defunct comic strip, which can be absurd, midly cruel, and hideously clever. Plus, he put together an entire soundtrack for a fake Wes Anderson movie. DREAMBOAT!
Lisa Hanawalt - Lisa's also a new addition, but once I found out that she was the brilliant lady behind this masterpiece, I knew she was on the list. After flying through her entire online portfolio, I promptly ordered a copy of Stay Away From Other People. When it arrived, I was having an awful stomach ache and it was better than an entire roll of Tums. She wrote about buying a pair of short overalls from the thrift store (see? Soul sister!), but they were labeled "Teen Bibs." A few pages later, she wrote about her dream wedding, which included "Bride wears white teen bibs." I die, I die.
Lotta Crabtree - "a true San Francisco character," (whole) Lotta Crabtree became famous in Gold Rush times for her singing, dancing, banjo-picking, and cigar-smoking. A hermit in her later years, she died unmarried, and left her fortune to animals, aging actors, and arts programs.
I know I'm forgetting many, many people, but who are your soul brothers/soul sisters?
blowing off my college education to start a hand pie business
tubing down a real lazy river in the heat
Learning to play autoharp, with or without John Sebastian
P-U-P-P-I-E-S!
This lady's whole deal (minus her choice of company) but especially her lavender fishtail braid and brown studded clog mules
My dad had a theory that another L.A.-based band, the Knack (of "My Sharona" fame), was ripping him off. "I started wearing skinny ties, then they started wearing skinny ties!" That the Knack released a song called "Good Girls Don't" just a few months later only further fueled this conspiracy theory.
Dick VanDyke - I often state that I want to be in a polyamorous marriage with Dick VanDyke and Mary Tyler Moore. When people realize that I'm serious, it becomes more creepy than cute, but doesn't make it any less true. This man does what matters: sings (with animated characters) and dances (with animated characters). He's goofy in an irrestible way. My aunt sometimes waits on his old-man self in her restaurant and she said he whistles to himself and skips. She thinks he's nuts, but I think he's perfect.
Neko Case - second Neko shout-0ut on this blog! Neko is like an older, wiser sister who keeps shit hella real with you. She's a badass with a soft side; a self-proclaimed tomboy who can still take sexy pictures. She's a public female who offers a more complex idea of femininity. She's a lady pilot and an animal lover with a golden voice. I'll sing myself hoarse belting her songs in my car. "The next time you say forever, I will punch you in your face." I LOVE HER!
Nicholas Gurewitch - not a household name, but the genius (GENIUS!) behind my favorite comic strip of all time, The Perry Bible Fellowship. We're all familiar with the "sense of humor" cliche, but I would gladly go for an arranged marriage with this man based just off his now-defunct comic strip, which can be absurd, midly cruel, and hideously clever. Plus, he put together an entire soundtrack for a fake Wes Anderson movie. DREAMBOAT!
Lisa Hanawalt - Lisa's also a new addition, but once I found out that she was the brilliant lady behind this masterpiece, I knew she was on the list. After flying through her entire online portfolio, I promptly ordered a copy of Stay Away From Other People. When it arrived, I was having an awful stomach ache and it was better than an entire roll of Tums. She wrote about buying a pair of short overalls from the thrift store (see? Soul sister!), but they were labeled "Teen Bibs." A few pages later, she wrote about her dream wedding, which included "Bride wears white teen bibs." I die, I die.
Lotta Crabtree - "a true San Francisco character," (whole) Lotta Crabtree became famous in Gold Rush times for her singing, dancing, banjo-picking, and cigar-smoking. A hermit in her later years, she died unmarried, and left her fortune to animals, aging actors, and arts programs.
