Rated X

Get your mind out the gutter, this isn't what U might expect…

I have xmRadio. I like it. I like music. And I like the indie rock station. What I don’t like, is country music (Apologies to those who do—tho I highly recommend other sorts of musical listening).

There I am, in my happy little land of satellite radio. Listening to the "New" stuff, the "Indie" stuff; the stuff people haven’t heard yet, the stuff that might not claim a large name record label. When all of a sudden some country song comes on with a sad little man singing about the mud on his tires and other sorts of HillBilly MisAdventures. I suddenly was filled with confusion, frustration, anger, sickness. This station didn’t play songs like that, hence the reason I drop money to have this service blast my car and computer speakers constantly (FYI: I can listen online it’s pretty sweet). But for some reason I couldn’t change the station and find another, better, more enjoyable song on the 100+ stations I get. Nope. I just sat and listened. To the whole thing.

Once the last twang belted and the song gloriously ended, I set out on a mission. I was going to find the reason for this random tragedy. My heart pounding, my fingers shaking, I furiously emailed a short and sassy 2-liner claiming my disgust. AH– I did it. I have now redeemed all music savvy fans with my bad ass "I showed You" comment. And then, I got a response. Within minutes. Totally making me stick my foot in my mouth for whatever I was trying to accomplish in my poo-on-you email. They say it was during a radio show where a band gets to come in and choose any & every random song they’d like. And, although they don’t normally play that sort of music, they appreciate all genres and listeners have really taken a liking to that show. So then I, the snoot who was on my pedestal of music knowledge was forced to take my pride off the shelf and reply with a less opinionated response. Attempting to validate myself I claimed I dug their station and for them to keep it up. Meanwhile I heard them on the radio commenting how listeners might not have enjoyed the country song just played, but to stick around for more music chosen by said band (I can’t remember the band right now) Sooo, I had indirectly been quoted on xmradio.

HA, my silly little opinion had been aired nationwide to listeners who (hopefully) like me, were mixed up by the yee-haw tune previously played. None-the-less who am I to knock the cowboy hats and pickup trucks really?? I seem to call a "country" state my home, while I "rock" my unbridled spirit throughout the bluegrass state. Oh well, funny story, I got a kick out of it, thought you might too...

Donde Estamos Nosotros?

Have you ever had the feeling you didn’t know exactly what country you were in? You think MAYBE you’ve crossed borders, but you’re not sure if you really left the country you were just in, or possibly entered some transition zone where they move you thru to the actual point of entering the other country. Weird as that may sound.

Not long ago, 3 wonderful peeps and myself experienced this and believe me, it’s a funky feeling…As we rolled through what we now are forced to assume was the border, a simple wave from patrol was the procedure for entering a completely different country. By this time the road signs have switched to Spanish, and the distance changed from miles to kilometers. But there was no passport check, no stop, and to my recollection no sign saying "You have entered Mexico" or even "You have left the United States" in English OR Spanish. There was, however, a weird moment of silence in our car as the 4 of us naïve souls all thought in our heads "What just happened?" finally one of us mentioned this aloud and we were all comforted by the others’ confusion, we were not alone.

So we drove on assuming that soon we would be stopped and checked and searched and questioned, and everything else we were expecting. Nope. Nothing. Or NADA I should say as we really had made it into Mexico, and it was time to step it up on the Spanish. Good thing for us we had quite a translator. We cruised right on thru that little border town, straight for: la playa, las margaritas, la comida deliciosa, y divertido…

Heading back into the US was a different story, I should add. Filled with waiting in a long line, and many offers to purchase souvenirs from determined local sales personnel walking repeatedly up and down through the cars. Anything at your fingertips from sno-cones, to burritos, to mariachi guitars, to lots of turtles and frogs to decorate your garden. And yes, this time there was a passport check, a question of our reasons for travel, and a little recognition that a border was actually crossed. Only thing no one ever noticed was our attempt at responsibility, with our purchase of stupid Mexican insurance that became a fast waste of money, easily down the drain. Oh well, now we know for next time.

I can surely say that all in all it was a good trip, or more respectively, UN BUEN VIAJE…

Little-Ditty...Growin' up N da HeartLand

This summer I caught a repeat of the 1st concert I ever went to way back when. Same venue. Same show. Only this time there were fewer mullets and I was on my own 26 year old feet, while the first time I was up on my dad’s shoulders, too short to see the stage above the crowd. Back then I was probably one of the youngest at the show, mere age of 6 maybe 7. Here it is, 2008, in the same place I was almost 20 years prior, singing the same songs in synch with the singer, potentially holding some sentimental value for me, being the Hoosier that I am. His home was my home for 5 years. We passed each other in the streets, he played a free concert the very first week of my college days, we probably cheered together in Assembly Hall.

So there we were, dancing to my childhood songs with my rocking grandma, singing with my mom just as I did in that same place years ago. It was quite a time. And although I was not born in a SmallTown, and I do not live in a SmallTown… "I cannot forget from where it is that I come from, I cannot forget the people who love me"

It was a great time, with a great group. From family to friends to the boy that now knows the ‘Cougar’ I spoke of…as he watched the crazy women in my family singing every word and jumping around to the beats. And yet again, I’m soon off to another show, another venue, another band. "Ah, but ain't that America, for you and me?" Summer concert season is in the midst of winding down, but I think we’ve done allright for ourselves thus far….

Days turn to minutes
And minutes to memories
Life sweeps away the dreams that we have planned
You are young
And YOU ARE THE FUTURE
So suck it up and tough it out
And be the best you can










Mi CASA es su CASA...

Most days I consider just deleting this blog... Today I decided to continue with it. To talk about WHAT tho, I don’t know. I’m in the midst of having quite a year, starting it off in Vegas for New Year’s and just recently returning from a road trip - from Phoenix to Mexico. Actually I’ve left the country twice this year, 2 trips, within weeks of one another. I suppose I'm taking advantage of the passport that took major procrastinating to finally get. I’ve caught some great music shows, and knowing me -- will probably catch some more. But some of those stories are worthy of their own entry. Another time, another ramble.

So today I’ll start at home base, literally. My new home is great. They say a woman’s home is her castle right? Well, turns out after looking at a disappointing apartment from CraigsList, a Quiet(t) man and myself found a humble abode right in city-limits, and yes, it has a look of a castle. After doing some research on the new place, which is filled with lots of character, I’ve come to find out a man by the name of Albert Koett built this home, we’re guessing in the early 1900’s, after he patented an "improvement" of the existing X-ray machine, and opened a business. Just ask a "Ms. Redwine", born 1989. I know this because her name is forever imprinted in brick on the front porch. Although a little stalking of this poor girl has probably scared her of any interest in the story (i.e: she was found on facebook—way to go BAB!). But summed up in short, I’ve moved, obviously. The new home is a place where many stories have been told, if only those walls could talk. Along with some unique architecture that went into building and designing said place. With probably 100 years of history roaming throughout, topped off with some weird ass flowered wallpaper in the front entrance…oh and the new roommate’s not bad either :)