Fell in love with this The Kinks' "Dedicated Follower of Fashion" when I first heard it.
This is a shortened live 1973 version of the 1966 song.
"Let's really have a laugh. No one's here for art.' Hehe. Ray Davies is a cheeky monkey. I love that guy.
The lyrics paint such a vivid picture of a flamboyant slave to clothing trends...fitting that it's song by a bunch of lads wearing things like purple velvet coats or a blue shirt with red pants. Ah, the 70's...
Fun Fact: Singer Ray Davies was shot in the leg in New Orleans in 2004 whilst chasing down a dude that had snatched his companion's purse. Just found that out, and I thought I'd share.
Oh, and he has a daughter with Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders. Another fun fact.
I've played guitar mediocrely since I was 14, and this is one of my favourite songs to butcher.
It's impossible to be frowning whilst singing out loud to this song. Had a bad day? I did.
Not officially, I don't have my own little farty plane that flies into the eye of the storm (which would be AWESOME), but I'm very interested in the weather.
It's true! I'm really nerdy about it. My mum thought I was a little weirdo, because most kids watched the Flintstones while they were eating their breakfast, getting ready for school.
I lay on the couch watching the Weather Channel till the last possible second I had to get dressed and walk the 5 minutes to school.
When you look at the Atlantic map on the National Hurricane Center Website, it's very artsy and swirly. Like the brushstrokes of a Van Gogh painting.
Chuck thinks I'm tempting fate and a hurricane will crash down on us and wipe us out by even looking at that website. When I give him a tropical storm update, he looks like he has the urge to go put on hip-waders.
Chuck's been through a few crazy hurricanes. I sometimes wonder why he bothered to stay in Coastal NC if he's so freaked out by them.
When Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005, I had just come back to Canada from visiting Chuck. My grandpa was dying of lung cancer, so my brother Kurt and I trekked up to Northern Saskatchewan from Edmonton to hold vigil with my mum and the rest of my extended family.
I remember sitting in my grandma's living room, my grandpa there in a hospital-type bed...watching all the horrific events unfolding on the news because all we could do was wait and watch TV. It was like a movie, but it was real. Surreal. I don't mean at all to make light of the damage hurricanes can do, I'm just very interested in how they work.
In Edmonton, the worst things we had to worry about weather-wise were tornadoes and blizzards.
Tornadoes didn't happen very often in the city. The worst one on record was July 31, 1987...I didn't have to even look that date up because it was so infamous in Edmonton history. I was six, being the flower-girl in my uncle's out of town wedding at the time. My dad and my two older brothers were home though, and watched the whole thing from the outskirts of Edmonton. Luckily it didn't harm them.
Snowstorms were par for the course, they were bad every year. You kind of just got used to digging yourself out of your driveway so that you could get to work.
Did you know that a hurricane is unlikely to affect land west of Bermuda if it forms east of 35 degrees longitude?? No?? Well, there you are, you just learned something.
Danielle passed us by, but we may or may not get affected by the edges of Hurricane Earl. Wind? Rain? Nothing? Tomorrow we'll get a better picture of where it'll hit exactly.
Weather is fascinating. And meterologists on the news are always the weirdest people on the program. Perfect fit for me!!
*sigh* ...Just a bookseller with a dream. A crazy weather dream.
A few days ago I was in the drugstore, buying saline solution and insoles for my shoes.
I'm a contact lens wearer, and I like my feet to be comfy and odor-free. As any reasonable person would be.
I had just had some lunch, and I was enjoying my morning off before yet another grueling night at work.
I walked up to the counter to pay for my items, and there was an older man up there ringing up purchases. I was wearing a shirt that said 'Old Navy' on it, and he mumbled some comment about it. I couldn't really understand what he was saying, but I supposed he was trying to be friendly, so I nodded and smiled as he rung up my purchase.
He then intelligably said, 'You must be a Marine wife.'
Understandable mistake, almost every woman in this town is a Marine wife or Marine daughter. I smiled and told him no, my husband was not a Marine. Even though I had no idea what that had to do with my t-shirt.
He said with a voice full of pity, 'Oh, that's too bad.'
WTF is that supposed to mean, right?
Since you don't live in this area, I'll tell you exactly what it means. The old man looked at me, and saw a relatively young woman and assumed I was married to a relatively young man.
When I said my husband wasn't a Marine, he assumed my husband was a relatively young man that should stop being a pussy and join the service to fight for his country. I know that he was inferring this because I'd had a similar conversation before with another retired Marine.
In that conversation (which started in the same way), I had to explain that my husband is 48 and has already voluntarily done his time in the Marines, oh, in the late 70's to early 80's. That he's now too old to even be drafted. Not to mention he only has a-lung-and-a-stump. That always gets me a bulging eye stare and another question as to how old I am.
I feel like I shouldn't have to explain this every time!
Instant day ruiner. I'll be minding my own business, going about my day. And someone will say something stupid that just makes me want to bitch slap them.
Should stupid things that people say ruin my day? Probably not. I let this one go, and let the old man think what he thinks. Because I just get tired of explaining. At least it gives me something to talk about at the dinner table, and on this blog.
Stupidity doesn't just extend to other people. I've been guilty of saying something that I didn't think about first. Usually it's just some innuendo in the wrong company.
Or the one time I said the *cough*c-word*cough* too loudly in conversation with Chuck and another guy at a party. There just happened to be a lull in the loud background noise. All the women in the room turned to glare at me with angry-laser-eyes (by c-word I don't mean 'cancer' or 'courgettes'...or 'cough' for that matter).
Hey, the only people I hung out with before that were fresh-off-the-boat, Gaelic Football playing Irish guys. They ubiquitously used the c-word as 'hello,' 'goodbye,' and 'I love you, man'. I became immune.
Why don't we as humans just shut up before we put our collective feet in our collective mouths? My friend Bub has written a couple of blog posts about that very topic, most recently this one.
This last Christmas season, I was very busy helping customers check out. The next person in line had their back turned, talking to his girlfriend/wife. They had their infant child with them in a stroller. I caught a snippet of their conversation with the people behind them, in which they were discussing the age of their new baby.
'Sir? I can help you now, ' I said.
He turned around, and I saw that he was a she. I think it was an understandable mistake. This person was stout, wearing man's clothes, man's rings, a very short haircut and had a passibly mannish voice. All of which didn't quite cover up the fact that she was a woman. Of course I didn't think, and just started talking.
'Oh, I'm so sorry!' said I.
'Oh, no, don't worry about it! I'm completely not offended,' said she.
What I said next should have been this:
'Oh, ok, I'm glad. Did you find everything you were looking for today?'
Instead of that, I just kept on saying stupid shit. I think my feet taste pretty damn good. Pour some ketchup over those bitches.
I replied,'You know, my husband has long hair, and people will sometimes mistake him for a woman if they're not looking too closely and call him ma'am. He hates that!' *laughing a little too loudly and wildly*
She was really very nice, and said again not to worry about it. Her girlfriend/wife was looking at me like I was an idiot.
And I felt like one, because then I thought...what if she's not just a lesbian, but really trying to live as a man? I felt terrible that I didn't just mistake her as a man! That's a long, tough process to go through. I don't want to set anyone back or hurt anyone's feelings!!
Yes, this is the way my brain works.
Because I've had my feelings hurt a few times by well-meaning people. The worst is when people feel the need to congratulate me on the upcoming birth of my baby.
What's that, Dear Readers? You didn't know I was pregnant?
Exactly. This actually happens to me frequently, more frequently than I'd like. I know I'm a bit chunky, but I don't feel like I look pregnant fat!
Usually it will be a man that makes this mistake, and I try to be understanding and not take it to heart. The last time this happened, it was a woman.
When I told her I wasn't pregnant, she said 'Oh, well don't worry. I love to eat too!'
I wanted to cry and hit her at the same time.
Kyna's Public Service Announcement For The Year #2:
Unless you have your head between a woman's legs in the delivery room, getting ready to catch a kid...scissors in one hand, celebratory cigar in the other... DO NOT congratulate a woman on her pregnancy before she mentions it herself. It might get you a knuckle sandwich. And after she's done hitting you, she'll go eat a sandwich. A big one. Because you've just ruined her self-esteem. And you should feel really bad about it.
The Carolina Chocolate Drops are one of my new favourite bands.
I came across this CD when it was an in-store play earlier this year. It has the reputation of being one of the most hated CD's we've ever had playing at Barnes & Noble (the most hated being the 'Mamma Mia' soundtrack). I would actually have my co-workers calling me up and asking me to change it ASAP.
I, on the other hand, LOVE it. It's definitely not everyone's cup of tea. I won't be offended if you tell me you hate it, by all means do. I bet 90% of you will.
But listen to the woman sing! She has a beautiful, powerful voice...she can sing her ASS off. Like, her ass actually falls off, gets on a stool next to her, picks up a banjo, and starts playing.
'Hit 'Em Up Style' really caught my attention. The lyrics are awesome. Look at that chick go on the violin!
If you don't like bluegrass, I don't think you'll like 'Cornbread and Butterbeans' at all. But I'm going to include it anyway just in case you do.
Notice how they switch instruments. The three musicians play about 4 or five instruments each. They call come from very musical backgrounds. The beat-boxing dude's mother was an opera singer and a cellist, and his sister plays the piano.
This video is a six minute mini-documentary about how the three young black musicians all met and came to play this kind of music together. Cool to hear where their influences came from, what their backgrounds are like. They're very interesting people.
I'm passionate about this versatile band. This partcular CD has bluegrass, celtic, folk, jazz, and blues tunes on it. I've hand-sold a lot of them at the store.
They're playing in Durham in Septemeber, at Duke University. I'd really love to attend, and I'm hoping Chuck and I will make a last minute decision and just go. Depends on work. Damn work. ;)
Not feeling particularly cheerful today. So I'm going to take a short commercial break before I get back to your regularly scheduled hilarity.
Took some photos a few nights ago just before some major thunderstorms hit.
It got very dark, very quickly. Clouds were way more ominous looking than I could capture with my camera. And most of the photos looked hazy, because the lens fogged up as soon as I brought the camera out of the house.
I was kind of irritated about that, but on my way back in the house, I noticed increased hummingbird activity at the nectar feeder. If I stood really still, they seemed to not care that I was standing right there.
I'd never taken a hummingbird photo before, because I could never get close enough and be fast enough to capture it with the camera that I have. So if you're wondering, 'Why is she taking pictures in the dark??' it's because I was excited. And I don't think they turned out too badly. The lens had gotten used to the temperature in time.
These are my favourites:
Can see the bright red throat shining!
I think they're cute when they just perch there.
Then I had to go inside because it started pouring. It's been raining a lot this week, which is good because we need it.
I don't know if it's from the humidity or what, but all of the houses in southeastern NC have this ugly, gray-green gunge all over their north sides.
It's a bitch.
It doesn't come off with any old garden hose spray. You have to pressure-wash that crap off.
Last weekend, I had 4 days off. And one of those days I was feeling particularly ambitious. Chuck had just finished mowing the lawn, and I had prettied up my gardens (as best I could, anyway). We were admiring our work, and I got to thinking about how bad the north side looked.
'Let's pressure wash!' said I.
We actually own one of those babies. Because this operation has to be done once a year at least. Although if you drive through our rural neighbourhood, you can see that most people don't. Which looks terrible. I guess if you have a toilet sitting on your front lawn, no one's going to notice your siding mold.
Here comes the hot wet t-shirt action!!
Are you ready??
Shameless, isn't he? Wearing a white shirt that he knows is going to become transparent!!
I, on the other hand...
...was foresighted enough to wear a black t-shirt. I didn't want to get the whole neighbourhood in an uproar.
Not only did I get all the back spray, but there's also a small leak where the hose connects to the gun. Chuck said the seal's cracked. Which means a steady stream of water running down my arms, through my bra, down my shorts, and eventually working it's way down to puddle in my shoes.
But it was hot as a bastard outside, so it felt kinda good :) And now my house is clean!
We did see this cute little thing sitting on my hydrangea...my sad, sad looking hydrangea.
Power-washing makes me feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger!
Not only is music my business, but it's also my pleasure.
Met Chuck on a Led Zeppelin message board. Many of my friends are so super-knowledgeable about music that they put me to Shame (with a capital S) x 1000.
Anyway, on Wednesday (well some Wednesdays, it may not happen every week if I'm feeling particularly lazy) I'll feature what I'm listening to. Just because I like it and want to show it to you.
I'd also be tickled (please don't really tickle me, I hate that) if you'd tell me what you're listening to these days. Unless you're into stony silence and in that case I feel kind of bad for you.
Or you can just listen to two seconds of what I've posted and feck off to do something more important because you were hoping I'd have posted pictures of petunias and on top of that you don't like my taste in music.
Which is ok! I forgive you!
I've never been good with Wordless Wednesdays. I just can't shut the hell up. This is a better way to go for me.
One of my friends posted this video on Facebook a few months ago, and then I rediscovered them when their CD was an in-store play in my music department. Barnes & Noble likes to promote new artists.
Mumford & Sons was formed in London in 2007. 'Little Lion Man' got left off our promo CD unfortunately, and you'll see why.
Great song. Great band. Most clever use of the word 'fuck' worked into lyrics without sounding gratuitious or trashy.
I'd really love to see them play live. Apparently they really rock it out in concert.
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