Fairytales and Thankfuls. Let’s Talk TToT.

Here I sit in my tiny room, chores unattended. I try and coax a little sunshine into the space created by these four buttercupped walls, beyond the cinammon sheers and upturned blinds… but there is none to be found. Gray hovers hopefully, somewhere there is light and eventually it will find its way…

…it is early evening. I have returned. Still no light shines through any pane, chilled by cooling air, the world out there remains the same. Sunlight is not necessary to illuminate the thankfuls, the gratefuls, the how lucky I ams. No sir. I can write this in the darkest gloom or the brightest of sunlight.

Let’s give pause to thank Josie, who has taken the baton, taken the mantle and made it her own. Here’s to you Josie for providing a link to possibility and participation.

Hey! Look at me! I woke up again today, Sunday. In good health (as far as I know) and that, my friends, is ALWAYS a thankful. To boot? Unlike yesterday, the sun is shining this morning. Here, why don’t we proceed, we’ll even employ the more conventional numbering system…..

4  Technology! Phones! The YouTube! for sending me a suggestion this morning. It’s a 3 hour (yes, 3 hours) long recording of Johnny and Edgar Winter at the Bottom Line in NY in 1978. The recording is of excellent quality. *sigh* Johnny. My first guitar crush.

5  The possibility of anything. Why, yes, getting oneself into this particular mindset is not easy to put it simply. At times, it seems impossible! So, when faced with the stubborn refusal of my brain to allow my body to participate in this consideration, what to do? Trickery! That’s right! By whatever means necessary, trick yourself! It worked on Carlos, it can work on me, right? lol The catch of course, is I have to perpetrate the trickery on my own damn self 😀

6 the Wakefield Doctrine. #5 was a good segue, non?

7 FB friends. Yes, they are friends to me even when/if I don’t comment or if all I do is click the “Like” button. They are all still part of my “world”.  If I’ve all but disappeared to them, they remain friends because they share of themselves. When individuals share, possibility has opportunity to become reality. Somewhere, in some fashion. “Cause and effect” come in all kinds of packages. And it goes without saying that it is the positive of which I speak!

8 A dog barking somewhere outside of my abode. A short time ago, earlier in the morning (which makes it all the more special) I heard the deep timbre of a dog’s bark. Deep signifying large canine. This is important as unfortunately had it been the barking of a smaller dog, I would not have had the same positive reaction. No disrespect to the smaller canines out there and their owners 😀  I am thankful for the duration of that barking while the light of the sun shone through my cinammon sheers, because I felt….the imminent, almost palpable, on the cusp, seasonal change. Just a few moments 🙂

SR 1.3 (go ask Clark)

10 Music, moments in time captured for perpetuity, the awareness that today is the only day. Sing whenever you can…

TToT Con’t….Back in the Day…. there was “Stand In Line”. I did.

Damn! Back in the day, yes folks, the 1980’s (T-ful #8), I bought this album brand new. Yes. Album. Today, this day, this 7th day of September, 2014 I’m watching the VH1 vid for the very first time. Back in the day, I didn’t have cable. Didn’t see any MTV vids. Nothing. Back in the day (ok, still am), I was all about metal, young “guitar gods” and the energy that was the music of the day.

Back in the day for me, there were no visuals except those that came from seeing a band or musician live. It was left to my imagination. Point in case, until today, I did not know what Graham Bonnet (his voice could be T-ful #9 but isn’t) looked like. Back then. Back in the day. I don’t want to know what he looks like now because that would wreck it. It would wreck the image. The energy. I still get from listening to certain music. From back in the day.

It’s all about the energy. If someone planted a camera to catch moments of me enjoying certain music they would see a head nodding, sometime singing ( at times loudly lol) 50 something caught up in the energy. It is the be all and end all. Music. It is my “expression”. I borrow this term from Clark over at the Wakefield Doctrine. rogers are known to possess certain activities which are referred to as their “expression”. Being the polar opposite to a roger, as a clark I like the term. Fits.

Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Music is my aeroplane (yup the Chilis are T-ful #9), music is my aeroplane, it’s my aeroplane….oh, man. Got so interrupted. Lost the flow. Lost the….impetus here. What can I drag up from the vaults to inspire and otherwise catapult me to the finish line? Where do I look? To what genre? What am I now feeling?

That music can be transformative? That it is a time capsule? That it is an expression? That it can catapult, comfort, cajole and without fail communicate that which singular words cannot? As much as I love the bass guitar, it is singularly the six string that pulls, tears, heals and otherwise allows me to feel to the fullest.

This has turned into a ramble but I committed to a continuation from yesterday’s words…I’m thankful for “back in the day”.  I’m strong enough to carry her bags (T-ful #10). My music “library” is vast enough there will never not be sufficent energy for today. If we cannot use the past, what use is it? If we do not move forward, there can be no future. Once upon a time in the future, there will always be a “back in the day”.

It is with sincerity of strength I post this vid. And the second one. Don’t think I need to explain why.


Me, My Metaphysical Self and I

I just scrapped the 538 words I wrote last night. Inadequate. I struggled for 500 words to find the “right” ones. To describe an event, a concept, an accomplishment, a marker of sorts. I, who never fully developed her musical side, must rely on words. And those my friends are few and far between lately.

What can I say? I was rumaging through some old papers and found a scribble. The title of this song.

Been having some computer issues lately. It’s been of some concern. When my keyboard seemed to be going out to lunch the last couple of days, I thought it time to take my laptop to a shop for some “same day service”. People shouldn’t lie. Anyway, for $20 I got someone to tell me:1) yes, I do need a new battery (that one I figured out on my own), 2) the sound I was hearing off and on was an alert that my keyboard was….in distress. So for $60 and a 2 day sleep-over, the Geek guys could verify the malfunction and replace my keyboard.

No sleep-overs for my lapbaby. Last night. I don’t know how. I fixed my keyboard my own damn self. But like I said, don’t ask me how. I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that I was in a rare state in which my body was calling the shots. By 9:50 pm last night I was typing. And actual letters were appearing on my screen:)

If  it’s not too late, I’d like to submit my entry for the TToT hop along. You know, I’ve never “followed the rules” of the hop. Hell, never followed any of the “rules”. I understand that the thanks should be for things in the preceding week. Let’s give this a shot.

1) Johnny, while I type. Except now when I listen to him it’s different. “Cuz he’s dead.

2) The enduring ability to believe. In things I cannot readily see. Until I “see”.

3) Music in general. Music everyday.

4) For doing a good stand down job (ironic humor?) of flat ironing my hair today. Needless to say, I won’t be doing it again any time soon.

5) Geez, how could I let this be #5….fixing my keyboard.!! So let’s count this as 6, 7 & 8. You all know what book allows me to do so.

9) Almost! Almost getting completely caught up at work.

10) Allowing myself to be open to the idea of a complete change of venue. Jobistically speaking.

There Was No Whiter Shade of Pale…

I had a crappy day today. Felt bad. Stomach issues. But I didn’t die. Johnny Winter died. Yesterday.

How did I find out? I opened my mail tonight and there was the e-mail from The Secessionist Rag. Roger had  a new post. A Brief Intermission. To say that Johnny Winter was dead. Damn.

It wasn’t all that long ago I was talking about Johnny in a post: my first guitar crush, my first concert, my first blues guy. I loved him. He was always and forever.

I cried after reading of Johnny’s passing. Of all the beloved musicians that have left this planet, I shed tears only for him. His music figured quite prominently in the soundtrack that was/is my life. The impact his music had on me since adolescence has been tremendous. Not yet a teenager, I was hooked with his first album….

I’m going to bed now. Sad. And heartbroken.

I suppose it appropriate that the song I post is the very first that “got me”. His rendition of the Henry Glover song was just….it just was. And so it became my “go to” song through early adolescence. Hell, it’ll always be my “go to” song….especially tonight.



“The chairs are on the table” Girlie….

(tap, tap, tap… mic on?) Ahem….Good day. Or evening depending on your locale. I’ve been on brief “hiatus” from GirlieOnTheEdge.  It’s been over a month since my last posting but as we all know, life has a way of interfering with, well, life.

A few readers have stopped by these past weeks and to those readers I say “thank you”. I will admit to a couple of days here or there with a big fat ZERO for stats.  But, it pleases me that most days there’s been evidence of a few (or one) die hard fans:)

So, what’s been going on?” Well, lots and not. For a long time. Of late there’s been a surge in, shall we say, cosmic persuasion on the part of your Hostess at the Edge. The evidence is clear, irrefutable in my opinion, that I’ve been accorded intervention by one supreme, if not knarly feline, whose name and likeness appears among the archives of this blog.

I begin a journey tomorrow. It will be both physical and meta-phorical/physical. I will be driving 800+ miles north of my home these last 10+ years.  I will travel from my sleepy little beach town to our nation’s capitol.  After that? Don’t know.  My man and Zoey will be holding down the fort for awhile. Then time will tell.

I will post again regularly at GirlieOnTheEdge very soon and hope that you will join me once again.

In light of recent events, I am pleased to announce the launch of a separate blog site, in addition to GirlieOnTheEdge. May I present you the link to the maiden post of tube tops, tattoos and TimeLines.

Take it Johnny….

Johnny Winter. Girlie’s First Guitar Crush

“Don’t Panic!”  Really Douglas? (may you rest in peace)  Really? I can leave it “in the lap of the gods” on this “get the fuck out” Friday? What more can we say, eh Freddie? Speaking of studio versions, I prefer the original studio version of In the Lap of the Gods.  Of course. It’s rare when a live version of a song can rival that of the original studio version.  But it can happen.

Wasn’t sure what to write this GTFOF (new blog hop anyone? LOL).  I love the YouTube. Luv, luv, luv it!  Any mood, any song, concert, version of a song…..I could sit here all day and listen til I get it all out of my system. Maybe.

It’s all a maybe, isn’t it?  What happens.  How life turns out.  We can “hope for the best”. NOT!  Let’s face it.  It has nothing to do with hope.  Hope is one of those rogerian cliches that serves us well once in awhile but more often than not lulls us into acquiescence.  It’s about movement.  Forward.  Taking steps deliberately. Maybe not easy ones or the right ones.

Back to Johnny.  My man.  My first guitar crush.  My first concert.  Don’t think I was old enough to drive yet.  My brother begrudgingly? drove me and a friend of mine, who, God knows why, wanted to go with me.  A “cosmo” girl, a roger and my best friend, “B” had heard one of Johnny’s less “blue” songs one day while at my house and liked it. And surprisingly she enjoyed the show. Hey! did I mention that the very first opening act was none other than the Ramones!  Yes, they were famously booed off the stage in Providence. (reference has been made to this particular concert in both book and documentary footage).  And Girlie was there!

So even though today I’d like to “drown in my own tears”, drink a little “cheap tequila” (‘cuz sometimes “life is hard”), I’m just gonna leave it to Johnny. He can always work the magic.

What edge was that?

“What edge was that?”  That’s the question that popped into my mind having just watched a snippet of, of all things, Family Affair.  You kids out there may or may not be familiar with ancient television programming from the 1960’s.  It was a program written around what then was considered a  middle aged bachelor (no, he would never be a contestant on “The Bachelor”) who had custody of his teenage niece and her fraternal twin, 6 or 7 year old siblings.  The show’s “moral of the story” was sacrifice for others – doing something you wouldn’t ordinarily do but by doing so would make the other person happy.   “If it makes you happy…..”

From that I remembered a most unique and touching moment from the year 1993.  It was not a particularly good summer.  Sadness, emotional turbulance and a conviction that I needed to “see what was on the other side of the road”.  No going back….I couldn’t not pack up everything I owned and transport myself and my 2 felines 800+ miles away.  I had this idea in my head, hanging by very thin, yet very strong hooks, that I couldn’t shake.

It was quite an emotional time – that late summer.  I did not want to leave my little “pleasant valley” apartment by the ocean, my friends, both old and newly re-discovered, yet the notion that I “needed to know” how life could be different drove me in a way I don’t recall experiencing until then.  Little did I know then that what was behind this “drive” to see life out there was fear, the pre-eminent domain of we like people. (clarks)

On the eve of what was to become  the odyssey that was to become the rest of my life, I recall sitting on the front steps of my apartment building.  It was a pleasant enough place – a victorian type home converted into small apartments situated only one street away from Narragansett Bay.  I loved living there so close to the ocean, to walks along “the Wall” – a place that suited my soul.

I was sitting on the top step, in the late afternoon, asking myself what in the world I thought I was doing.  Indulging in self doubt, I was treading water in a pool of confusion when an aquaintance walked up to me.  He was the son of the man who owned my apartment building.  Mark was more or less the carpenter on call, the go to guy if something went wrong maintenance wise.  Close to my age, he was a pleasant guy – always a smile.  Easy to talk to, he had a naturally calm, cool, collected way about him.    

Mark walked over to me that hot, sultry summer day.  He wanted to say goodbye and wish me well in my new life.  I thanked him for his good wishes.  Up until then, our conversations were never of any great length, just  short ones people have when they run into each other on occasion.  I found myself sharing with Mark my thoughts of “oh my God, what the hell am I doing?” and surprisingly he was quite understanding. 

He wished me well in my new life and I wished him well in his.  Before concluding our goodbye, I complimented him on his t-shirt.  It was white and on the front was the likeness of  Johnny Winter.  “My idol” I told Mark “My first concert.”  At that moment he took his shirt off and handed it to me.  “No, really.  I can’t”, I said.  “Yes, you can.  I want you to have it”. 

I sat there astounded and touched that a man I knew for such a short time, gave me the shirt off his back.  Literally.  His poignant gesture spoke volumes about him, about how simple and genuine and uncomplicated life can be…