Cassi-DJ: Today's Playlist (11.02.19)

Happy Saturday, all. Hope you're having a good weekend so far. Yours truly is enjoying the first day of a two-week vacation. I am pretty burnt right now (see the above photo, taken this morning), so this is a VERY welcome break. It's been a challenging year. I'm looking forward to some serious down time.

I started it off my sitting in with my friend Mike again on WMFO-FM's Mike on the Mic show this morning. We had a lot of fun, as we always do, and Mike was kind enough to let me program a set of my own. Here's what went down on the airwaves this morning. :c)

Leading off is the first track from The Dave Rawlings Machine's 2010 debut album A Friend of a Friend, "Ruby." Backing him up are his partner, Gillian Welch, as well as two members of Old Crow Medicine Show, Ketch Secor and Willie Watson (who has since left the band for a solo career and permanent membership in the Machine. Here's a lovely version recorded at KEXP-FM in Seattle; the wonderful baritone vocals are courtesy of Ketch. :c)

Next is a great song from Noel Gallagher & His High-Flying Birds 2011 self-titled debut album, "If I Had a Gun." Mike is also a longtime fan of Noel dating back to his days in Oasis; as Mike noted during the set, you recognize a Noel Gallagher song as soon as it starts. This is my favorite song from his three solo albums; one listen and I think you'll understand why:

Third song up is  Radiohead's "Daydreaming," a somber, hauntingly beautiful meditation that is believed to have written about the end of front man Thom Yorke's 23 year relationship with his long-term partner Rachel Owen. The song's video is directed by Paul Thomas Anderson (There Will Be Blood, Magnolia); it is stunning, as you will see:

Filmmaker Rishi Kaneria made a fascinating short film about the video that examines the amount of though and effort that went into its creation; it is well worth watching if you are a fan of Radiohead or  Anderson.

Next is a tune from a band I adore that never received anywhere near the acclaim it deserved: Grant Lee Buffalo. This song, "Superslomotion," is a deep track (and a personal favoriteO) from what turned out to be their fourth and final album, Jubilee. Safe to say that they went out on a high note:

We had to cut my set short due to time constraints, but we nonetheless went out on a high note with another artist who is a favorite of both Mike and your humble blogstress: the pride of Ottawa Ontario, Miss Kathleen Edwards. "Change the Sheets" is from what looked for a number of years to be her final album, 2012's excellent Voyageur. This is a great live version on Late Night with David Letterman from 2012, shortly after the album was released:

Exhausted after years of unrelenting touring, she fulfilled a longstanding dream and opened a coffee shop, Quitters, in Ottawa. (I visited it last year and can vouch for both its coffee and delicious corn muffins. :D) Happily, she returned to the recording studio this summer to work on what will be her fifth album, hopefully out in 2020. Can't wait to hear it!

Feelin' Groovy :c)

Hi everyone! Hope you all had a lovely Monday!

I had insomnia last night, but I suspect it was from staying up late to watch the Red Sox take two out of three from the Dodgers last night - on the road. That is what is known as a statement win - and a statement series.

This team reminds me a great deal of the '98 and '99 Red Sox teams. Like those squads, this isn't the most talented team in the league - but they are not the least bit intimidated by anyone. And that attitude can carry them a long way in October. Now if only my Mariners could acquire some of that grit... but that is a topic for another day. :c)

OK, enough baseball talk. :c) Apologies; I get carried away when it comes to my favorite sport. In fact, I'm typing this with one eye on the St. Louis - Cincinnati NL Central matchup. Yes, I am a total seamhead, as they call we baseball nerds...

Anyway, I just wanted to put up a quick post to assure everyone that I am, in fact, feeling fine - or groovy, as a Mister Simon and Mister Garfunkel put it so eloquently back in the day.

Follow below the fold for more. :c)

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Bits and Pieces

Just wanted to write something to keep the ol' posting muscles in shape. No big theme, just some odds and ends. 

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The Plan Keeps Coming Back Again… (Pt. 3)

Saturday, 3:00 PM

The scene: I'm walking down a busy thoroughfare in - you guessed it - a torrential downpour. My cell phone rings. It's my father.

Me: Hey Dad. Are you and Mom home from the church social?

Him: L? Is that you?

Me (counting to three): Has anyone else ever answered this number, Dad?

Him: Where are you?

Me: Out walking.

Him: You know it's raining?

Me (wiping the condensation from my glasses again): I've noticed.

Him: It wasn't supposed to start this early, they're saying.

Me: I gathered that.

Him: Is that why you're still walking?

Me: That plus the fact that it started when I was an hour and a half from home.

Him: Well, will you be home by, let's see… 3:00?

Me: Dad, it's 3:00 right now.

Him: Is it? OK, I have to keep this short - Kojak is coming on.

Me: Keep what short?

Him: Your brother F invited us over for dinner.

Me: Oh, OK. I have something to talk to you all about, actually, so that's good.

Him: Sure.

Me: What time do we have to be there?

Him: 3:00.

Me: Dad, again, it's 3:00 right now. Why does he want us there so early?

Him: Well, he wants to order early from Bob's.

Me: But why not just get everyone's orders now, call them in, and tell them when you want to pick it up?

Him: No, they want to eat early.

Me: Why?

Him: Aren't you listening? There's a Kojak marathon on!

Me: Right. Sorry. Well, I can't be there at 3:00.

Him: Why not?

Me: Because it's 3:00 right now.

Him: It is?

Me (sighing): Yeah, Dad. I'll just meet you all over at F's house, OK?

Him: OK. By the way, F's father-in-law will be there too.

Me: @#$%!

Him: Hey, he's not my favorite person either, but I don't let him get to me like that! Anyway, do you have keys for his house? We don't to miss any of the show.

Me (shaking head): I do. No worries.

Him: Good. (yelling to my mother) M, how do you manually program the VCR again? This remote still isn't working!

Me: See you in a bit, Dad.

***

Postscript: if you're ordering from Bob's I highly recommend the turkey tips.

*** 

Here's one from The Dave Rawlings Machine. He is hands-down the best guitar player I have ever seen - and bear in mind that I saw Stevie Ray Vaughan live. Judge for yourself:

The Plan Keeps Coming Back Again… (Part 1)

Ever seen the movie Hot Shots? It's sort of an Airplane!-style takeoff on war movies. There's a character in it called Dead Meat, who is the All-American guy who always buys it in those war flicks the movie parodies so well.

As he's climbing into his fighter jet before a routine test mission, he's telling his wife about all of the astounding discoveries he's made: a cure for the common cold, who really shot JFK, and on and on. Each time his wife asks him to explain, and each time he says "plenty of time for that! I'll tell all as soon as I get back from this totally routine test flight, honey!"  And of course, disaster ensues - hilariously.

Well, that sort of sums up my last weekend. :c)

In my case, the goal was simple. I was going to spend a few days staying with my parents in my hometown. The ostensible purpose was to see Gillian Welch & Dave Rawlings on Thursday night and The Civil Wars on Friday night. But my main goal was to tell my family that I was trans. I'd planned to do so a few weekends ago, but my father's stomach problems chose that weekend to make their presence felt, so I put it off until last weekend. I'd be there for four days; plenty of time for that! What could possibly go wrong?

Thursday, 12:00 PM

The scene: I'm sitting in the parking lot behind the wheel of my car, idly eying the partly cloudy skies above. Just to be safe, I quickly check the forecast: intermittent showers. I then check the traffic report: clear sailing the entire way. My trip ETA: 1:15 PM. Plenty of time to sit down for a heart to heart with my folks before heading out for a magical evening of music with Gill and Dave. Should be smoooottthhh sailing all the way...

Thursday, 5:15 PM

The scene: I'm standing in the hallway at my parents house, wringing out my drenched Gore-Tex jacket. My mother stands nearby, holding my iPhone.

***

Mom: So you really spent three and a half hours on the Expressway?

Me (emptying approximately three inches of rain from my left sneaker): I did. But it will be worth it tonight when I get to the show.

Mom (looking down): Uh… was it Gillian Welch you were seeing tonight?

Me: "Was"? Why "was"?

Mom: It says here that she has laryngitis and tonight's show is canceled.

Me: #$%!*

Mom: That's not nice.

(The door opens. My father enters.)

Dad:  Shouldn't you be on your way to your show?

Me: #$%!*

Dad: What?

Mom: The show was canceled.

Dad: Hmm. (momentary pause) Did you close your car windows before you came in? It's raining out, you know.

Me: #$%!*

Dad: Hey, don't blame me. I didn't make it rain.

Mom: Well, this will be nice! Your sister is working, so it's just the three of us! (The phone rings.) Let me get that and see what I have for dinner. (heads off to kitchen)

Dad: Too bad about the show. Oh well. We can always watch TV.

Me Or we could just talk.

Dad: I think there starting a Kojak marathon tonight.

Me: Right. Or we could just talk.

Dad: I think they're showing the first season.

(The doorbell rings.)

Dad (opening the door): Now who the hell is that? It's pouring out, for Christ's sake.

(It's K, our next door neighbor and her six-month old daughter C, huddled under an umbrella. My mother brushes past my father and I.)

Mom (in baby voice): Well, HELLO, Missy C! And how are you?

Dad (confused): Hi, K. (brightening) And hello, princess! 

K (apologetic): I'm so sorry. Our babysitter just canceled, and I didn't know who else to call…

Mom: Nonsense! We're always happy to spend time with our favorite little neighbor!

K: We aren't interrupting anything, are we?

Mom: Not at all! I think there's a Mannix marathon on tonight.

Dad: That's next week. This is Kojak week.

Mom: He's the bald one, right?

Dad: Right. (to C) Just like this little angel!

C: (massive burp)

Mom: See if she wants to go to L.

(I hold out my arms. C reaches for me.)

K and my Mom (simultaneously): Aww!

C: (throws up on my shirt)

Dad: Well, looks like someone had peas for lunch!

C: (gurgles happily)

K: Well, I should be on my way. Thank you *so* much! Bye honey! Be good! (kisses C on the head)

Dad: Let me see if I have a shirt you can wear, L. (heads upstairs)

Mom: I'll go get a facecloth to clean off Missy-Miss here! (heads off to kitchen)

(C and I stand alone by the door.)

Me: Hey, C. Want to know a secret?

C: (smiles and laughs)

Postscript: C is an absolute sweetheart. And I say that even though she vomited on both my Gillian Welch *and* Dave Rawlings Machine tour shirts. 

***

Here's a taste of what I missed that night:

Boundary Rider

As you've probably figured out by now, I'm a bit of a music fan. :c) I own an embarrassing number of albums <cough>5,000+</cough>, and listen to most of them on a pretty regular basis.

I don't get to the movies as much as I used to, but that's because there's only a one-screen art house theatre here. When I lived in Seattle, I would routinely go to two or three movies a week, and watch even more on DVD.

And we won't even get into books; suffice it to say I can polish off a book every two or three nights. It's about the only good thing about chronic insomnia. I just finished Brian Katcher's Almost Perfect, which was mentioned on another blog. (Thank you to Jen at Jenesis for writing about this powerful and very, very moving book.)

I draw my own comic strip and keep a daily journal (three pages a day, every day). I also exercise every day, either at the gym or just by walking.

I started working full time and attending school full time as a high school sophomore. I did the same through college, and again while earning certificates in technical writing and pubic relations. I would routinely work 60-80 hours, even more in the tech writing program. I remember coming home around 6:00 PM the night after the program finished. Six hours later I found myself furiously scrubbing the corners of my kitchen floor at midnight with a toothbrush to remove non-existent dirt, only to think "OK, something is a bit off here." (I only wish I was kidding.)

Hmm. I don't have my Dick Tracy Crime Stopper Kit handy, but it's almost as if there's a pattern there… :c)

I've been reading a number of trans blogs since I finally accepted whoI was, and one theme that occurs over and over is this sort of obsessive behavior. It makes a lot of sense. Even if I couldn't admit why, I knew I had to keep my mind occupied as much as possible. Or else *those* thoughts would be back. And they'd be even stronger than before. Better to find something - anything - that would stop that from happening. Given my family history of addictive behavior on both sides, I'm very fortunate it stopped with music, movies, and books. I suspect others aren't as fortunate.

I grew up in a very conservative, blue collar city in the Northeast. My family is working-class Irish Catholic. We lived barely five miles outside a major city, but I knew - heck, know - many people who have lived their entire lives without ever once venturing into "town," as they refer to it. You can be there in literally minutes by subway or bus, but nothing could, or will, entice them to visit one of the world's great cities, one with countless historic landmarks, world-famous cultural treasures, and innumerable college and sports teams.

I was always baffled by this behavior, and I suppose I thought I was different, that I wasn't like *those people*. But recently I've begun to look at it a bit differently.

The unknown is frightening. Even when you can see it in front of you, shining, right there on the horizon. Even when you've been assured that it's OK, that others have gone before you and found that the journey to this new destination is well-worth the risks - perceived and otherwise. After all, even if you suspect that there's a much, much richer world out there, if you simply take that first step…  - well, isn't it just safer to stay put?

And there is something to be said for that - to an extent. I knew I was different at an early age. At school, at home, with my friends, with my family, I knew I was "other,"  even if I couldn't articulate why at first. And people weren't shy about letting me know that *they* knew it too. In addition to insomnia,  I was sick all of the time. I had chronic stomach problems  (I was tested for an ulcer several times in grade school - grade school!), no doubt from the stomach-churning terror of keeping a secret I feared, quite rightly, could get me killed. I was beaten up more than once, and was threatened with a knife by a classmate who told me he was going to kill me right there on the street. A teacher once tried to molest me in high school, stopped only by one of the receptionists coming back to check on me. And all of this happened because I didn't fit in.

Under those circumstances, I desperately needed the relief that my obsessions provided me. I adored, and still adore, comic strips, particularly Peanuts. I knew that no matter how awful the day had been, or how many insults I had to endure, or how to endure carrying this terrible secret that I could never, ever share with anyone - I knew that I had a refuge when I would come home, close my bedroom door, put on my beloved Beatles albums, and open the newspaper to the comics. There was a world waiting there every day, populated by my friends on the page, friends who never judged me or cared how small or unathletic or awkward I was. I could simply… be. And that was enough, even if it was only or a few moments every day.

And because I had those friends, and those places, and because of the strength and comfort they gave me, I'm where I am today. Venturing forth from those safe places, knowing I can reach my destination, even if it's a long way off. And hoping that someday I can offer refuge to others who are wondering if they, too, can find the courage to take that first step.

Courtesy of Dave Rawlings, the best guitar player I've ever heard, here's a song about having a sweet tooth… and other, darker obsessions:

And here's a beautiful song from The Go-Betweens, written by the late, great Grant McLennan, about learning to accept who you are, and the price of that journey.

There's a boundary rider/At the five mile fence/Bloodwood, bones + steers/And the sky's so deep/You can't find your sleep/Keeps you walking through these tears

So you reach for things/You're never satisfied/You're running down the years/And to know yourself/Is to be yourself/Keeps you walking through these tears

Some days you ride it hard/To stop them getting out/Then comes the day you ride/To stop them getting in

There's a boundary rider/At the five mile fence/Bloodwood, bones + steers/And the sky's so deep/You can't find your sleep/Keeps you walking through these tears