Jul. 30, 2003
Baffle 'Em With Bullshit
I just got back from a week at the beach. Yeah, a whole week! It was my first summer vacation in a long time that didn't involve touring. On the one hand, it was great! On the other hand, I felt like such a slacker.
I do love the beach. Love, love, love. Perhaps it's a Pisces thing. I love to go out to the beach first thing when I get up and walk right at the edge of the water, where the waves lap at my feet. I love to swim out just behind the waves and watch them crash in to shore. I love to lie on a towel on the sand and bake. And then there are the fish and the birds and the porpoises and the hermit crabs: a treasure trove of fun. We saw a lot of porpoises on this trip, and they definitely weren't shy. One jumped out of the water only a few feet from where we were standing in the water! The pelicans would follow the schools of porpoises around because the fish would get scared and start jumping out of the water, which meant a lot less work for the pelicans. They're good hunters in their own right, though. It's so much fun to watch a pelican skim the surface of the water, barely flapping its wings, and then suddenly dive into the water and snatch up a snack. They move so quickly!
I have a question about hermit crabs, though. We went out at low tide one morning to walk on the sandbars and found tons and tons of hermit crabs, all in different little shells. I understand the concept of hermit crabs outgrowing their shells and finding new ones. But I don't understand how it works in the beginning. Are they born with shells which they later grow out of? Do their parents find them their first shells, after which they are on their own? I'm curious.
It's funny; I had an entire week at the beach, but I still feel like I didn't get to do everything I wanted to do. I meant to spend more time reading. I meant to spend more time playing guitar. I meant to write a song or two. I meant to get some work done on my music business database (I always plan to do this with my free time, but because data entry is what I do at my day job, it's awfully hard for me to make myself do that particular hateful project.) But this was the first vacation I've had in ages during which I didn't really expect myself to be all that productive, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it too badly. As far as fun goes, I had an awful lot of it. I got to do so many things I always wish I had more time to do: I played Boggle (yes, I kicked their asses), I went to the movies (Pirates of the Caribbean, which was highly entertaining), I watched the cast commentary for the Fellowship of the Ring DVD (even though I promised myself that I would give Liv Tyler a chance, I could not stop myself from yelling, "Shut up, Liv!" almost every time she spoke), and I read Pamie's new book (the web site's better). And plus I got to spend hours and hours at the beach. Oh, and I spent quality time with my boyfriend and with some of my best friends in the world. That is always time well spent, even if it doesn't lead to world tours and widespread fame.
I have a recommendation for those of you who live in the Atlanta area. Listen to WRFG in the morning on your way to work. I remember that I meant to listen to WRFG a lot back when I discovered that they had really good specialty shows on the weekends (bluegrass, Celtic, etc.), but I just don't listen to the radio on the weekends. I really only listen to the radio when I'm in my car and sick of all the tapes in my glove compartment. It turns out that WRFG plays the blues in the morning. Every single weekday morning. There are at least two different DJ's, and they like very different stuff within the genre, which I find very interesting because I really thought the blues was a pretty formulaic and predictable style of music. It turns out that is just not so. I've realized that in the past, my only exposure to the blues was going to live shows, where I would listen to the same band or artist all night. Often, blues artists write all of their songs in one style, which led to my impression of the blues as being rather boring. But listening to these morning shows, I realize how rich and diverse the music is that's contained within the genre called "the blues." Some of the songs border on gospel, some of them border on 60's rock (the English DJ played The Yardbirds yesterday, which made me think of Kenny out in Rickenbacker land), and some of them seem closer to the spirit of country music than anything else. Because WRFG is public radio, there are almost no commercials. I cannot think of any better soundtrack for my morning commute. 89.3 on your FM dial. Commercial over.
My friend Penny had a dream about me that is just about the best dream I've ever heard. It's kind of long, but I just have to share it with you. In fact, I think I'll let her tell it in her own words (she left it on my voice mail):
I was driving to my grandmother's, and it's a bright, sunny day, and I'm driving along, and this zombie hand starts to reach around from the back seat and grab my head and break my neck, and all of a sudden you pop up like the little space guy on The Flinstones, I mean it's you, but - I don't know if you know the little dude I'm talking about - anyway, so you pop up, and you start talking, and you're like, "Wait! What do you think you're doing?" And you're telling the zombie that he's breaking all the rules and doesn't he know anything and didn't they teach him anything, it's broad daylight, it's bright and sunny, and the song that was playing on the radio was Boston, "Amanda." So you're like, "You've got it all wrong! It's gotta be nighttime, you need the right music." And you're like, "Just be patient and wait for your moment." The next song was something by Adam Ant, and you're like, "Wait." The next one was a song by Def Leppard, "Foolin'," and there's a few lines in it where the zombie starts looking hopeful, like "Is anybody out there?" and he's looking, going, "Maybe? Maybe?" and you're going, "Yeah, you know, it's something to work with, it's a good start," so he starts to reach around, and you're like, "No! It's broad daylight. You wanna get thrown out of the zombie club? You gotta do this right! Just be patient." So I get to grandmother's, and you're telling him, "Wait until she drives home. She won't leave until about 8:00, and, you know, you can get her then. It'll be nighttime, and I'll see what I can do." So, I'm driving home, and it's 8:00, but it's not dark, and you're like, you know, "Well, sorry, it's summer! It's not going to be dark yet. But it'll get dark! It'll get dark!" And he's all restless and fussy in the back seat. So then I get home, and, you know, it's starting to get dark, and I go in to put on a CD, and you're like, "OK, now it's going to be your moment, so get ready." So I'm looking at the CD's, and I don't see or hear you at all, or him, but you're sort of whispering subliminally to me, and you're going, "Ooh, ooh! Barry White! No, no, no, play the Cyndi Lauper! KC and the Sunshine Band!" So I get out my record player, which I don't have anymore, and my Bay City Rollers album, which I also don't have anymore. (That's obviously from karaoke the other night; this is Sunday night that I'm dreaming this.) Anyway, I put on my Bay City Rollers album, and he's all upset and dejected. Finally, later, the music goes off, and I'm getting in bed, and there's no music, and you're going, "OK, this is it," And he's like, "Well, where's my music?" So you're like, "I'll work with you; I'll hum something." So first you start with the theme song from 2001, and he's giving you funny looks, and you go, "Yeah, yeah, I know, OK," and then you start the little about-to-get-eaten-by-a-shark from Jaws, and he really gets disgusted, and you're like, "Look, just give me time, I'll get something going. You, in the meantime, get ready. Get under the bed." So he starts to get under my bed, and there's boxes there that I keep under there, and two of my dogs, and he's like, "There's no room," and you turn the whole thing around on him and go, "Look, I've been working with you all day long, trying to provide these opportunities for you, and it seems like this just isn't going to work out." You start leading him to the front door, and you tell him that he should go to New Orleans because you've heard there are a lot of opportunities for zombies there. So finally you get him to leave, and then suddenly you're yourself again, you're full-sized, and you say, "Penny, make some tea, we've got a lot to talk about." You tell me that you saw the zombie about to attack me in the car and you knew you had to do something to try and stop him. You said something like, "I knew I couldn't beat him with brawn, so I was going to have to baffle him with bullshit."
I know. "If you can't beat 'em with brawn, baffle 'em with bullshit" is my new motto. I'm going to put it on a bumper sticker.
What’s in my stereo at home:
What’s in my car:
What's in my CD player at work: