Posts tagged music

Things about Mary Travers

Growing up, I was never a kid who sat in their room staring at the ceiling while listening to music and feeling the lyrics deep in my soul. To be honest, I just didn’t care about music all that much.  I was the anti-teenager in that respect.  Sure, I liked random teen-centric angsty stuff from the early 2000’s (punk/emo stuff like the Ataris, New Found Glory), and went to Warped Tour a couple of times, but… I also dug U2… and Frank Sinatra… and Jump, Little Children. And I went to Lillith Fair.  Really, I tended to (and still do) like songs over bands.

But there was always Peter, Paul, and Mary.

Thanks to my parents, who were teenagers of the late 50s/60s, I grew up going to Peter, Paul, and Mary concerts every summer for as long as I can remember.  My parents actually wanted to get married to Noel Paul Stookey’s “The Wedding Song” but the priest wouldn’t let them (damn Catholic dogma).  PP&M was a constant on the radio in our house and there was always the annual trip to meet up with my godparents’ family on a warm summer night to sit on the lawn at Ravinia (always near the dog statue), and listen to PP&M.

Peter, Paul and Mary shaped my childhood. My social justice roots started early, I suppose.  I still cry when I listen to “Home is Where the Heart Is”… because… well, I’m supercool like that, I suppose.

On September 16th, 2009, Mary died due to complications of treatment for leukemia.  Her passing had more coverage than I’d expect, but still relatively little.

The rest of the world had their foundations rocked when MJ died. To be honest, I couldn’t have cared less.  But Mary Travers?  Mary Travers dying seems to have officially signaled the end of my childhood.

Anything I can think to say is sappy and two weeks overdue at this point.  But, basically… thanks, Mary, for being a huge part of shaping who I am.

(Wanted to find a different video, but I can’t find it on youtube, and Leaving on a Jet Plane is bad assed, so… this’ll do.)

10/4/09 ETA: Found the video I was looking for – I Have a Song to Sing, O!

This song is, I suppose, one of their lesser known ones, but definitely flitted through my house growing up. No idea which album it’s on, but I love it and recently rediscovered it while stalking down youtube videos of PP&M since hearing the news about Mary

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Things that are a little mindtrippy.

My old friend from college, Tom, is half of the duo Dangerous Muse.  Since graduating , I check in on him/them a couple times a year via internet to see their status – which seems to be pretty well with the club/underground scene.  They had a break-out hit in 2006 (The Rejection) which grabbed the #2 download on iTunes on the dance charts, but have been quietish since 2007.

So imagine my surprise when about a month ago I happened upon the H&M website to find Tom’s face plastered all over the website as a part of the Fashion Against AIDS campaign:

Fashion Against AIDS - Dangerous Muse

Fashion Against AIDS - Dangerous Muse

I kind of find this incredibly awesome. My old friend has his face plastered all over subways and billboards across the world.  Really trippy.

I hope they get a boost from this. They’re great kids, and Tom is pretty brilliant with music, and he’s always been dedicated and driven.  Electropop isn’t precisely my genre of choice, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that all goes well for them.

And just because I can, here’s a totally shameless plug for their music video, The Rejection:

They’re apparently releasing another video soon, so [shameless plug #2] keep your eyes and ears open for it.

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How to become a sexual predator without even trying

There’s a simple solution if you’re interested in how to become a sexual predator without even trying:  Move to Juneau, Alaska.

Everyone in Juneau, as a general rule, tends to look approximately 7-15 years younger than they actually are.  Attribute the phenomenon to youthful living or lack of sun damage if you want, but it’s a frightening – and well acknowledged – occurrence.

5 years old... or 25?

5 years old... or 20?

Case in point: my first night in Juneau last year, my roommates and I played a board game with an older couple and their 14-year old son who was a freshman in high school.  A friend of the family came over to play, and we assumed he was a friend of the son’s from school.

Later in the evening we discovered the friend had actually just graduated. From college.

Carrying on.  This past weekend I was at the Folk Festival in Juneau, listening to the most horrific version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” I’ve ever heard. We’re talking physically painful here. In order to avoid stabbing myself in the ear, I was desperately searching around the room for distractions when I happen to notice that this guy standing next to me is actually fairly attractive.  Now, I’m not a particularly girl-y person. This generally isn’t something I stop to take note of, but at Folk Fest 93.8% of all males tend to look more or less like they just left their Vermont commune and traveled across the continent via hitchhike, rickshaw, and mule.

Noting this, I take another quick glance… and I realize that the guy looks 17. Naturally, I immediately censor my thoughts and internally note, “Okay, that’s icky and wrong.”

But 2 minutes later I remember previously told stories about how everyone in Juneau looks 12 when they’re actually 38. So I decide it’s okay.

But then I realize that he might ACTUALLY be 17.

BUT I CAN’T TELL.

So I awkwardly try to stare/not stare and decide whether or not it’s FUCKING ILLEGAL FOR ME TO BE OGLING HIM.

And he totally catches me staring at him. ‘Cuz… uh, you know… Hi. I am standing right damn next to him. Subtle.

But he’s sort of checking me out too a tiny bit, and just as my itty bitty ego is getting a boost, I come to the disturbing realization that I ALSO LOOK 17.

Eventually, after a few more awkward minutes of staring while simultaneously doing age math, I just walk out, and never figure out his real age, due to the fact that in addition to the age-math-confusion, I tend to have absolutely no guts when [soberly] talking to those of a male persuasion.

But now, with this all dissolving unconcluded, I feel a little bit icky for pseudo-lusting-after this guy who could potentially be 17 goddamn years old. Or he could be 26. BUT HOW THE HELL DO YOU FIGURE IT OUT IN JUNEAU?!?!?

Damn you, Juneau. I’m going to end up arrested one day for involuntary statutory rape and it’ll be all your fault.

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Barack v. Beyonce

Things I know:

A) I spend far too much time on the internet/youtube.

2) I dislike Beyonce. Strongly.

iii) I am from Chicago, IL. Draw your own conclusions on how you think I may feel about Barack Obama.

Four) I’m not sure I can accurately describe this, and am for once, sans-words:

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Things that are awesome.

1) Having a ball chair at work.

2) Resurrecting an iPod that’s been dead for 2 years.

3) Putting #1 with #2 and adding Chemical Brothers and Disney music.

4) Add Photoshop time.

There is little that makes me happier today than being able to bounce through 8 hours of working at a computer.

WEEEEEEE!!!!

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