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Posts Tagged ‘Rock and Roll’

What goes around…

Underneath my 1966 high school yearbook picture is the caption, “Dover today, Broadway tomorrow.” It was good to have a friend on the yearbook staff, thank you Bess, but in my defense I did try out for every single play in high school. From Freshman year when I was a CanCan girl dancer in Oklahoma, to Senior year playing Adelaide to Bob’s Nathan Detroit in Guys and Dolls, (Achoo) you just can’t make this stuff up. And whatever part of the right side of our brain that’s responsible for creativity, well that part was squared when the Rocker was born.

He would practice the violin while our Corgi howled right next to him. He spent hours filming stop-action cartoons in our garage. Later on, in middle school in the mid 90s, he would design websites for his friends. He started his first band with his buddy Alex around the same time. I was deep into filming dance aerobics workouts for our local cable channel, while Bob played old 60s music extremely loud in the background of the Rocker’s early life. In fact, Bob said the only way he could calm him down as an infant was to blast Led Zeppelin in the car.

So I am happy to announce that the Rocker is going back out on tour this week. He’ll be playing guitar with Nicole Atkin’s band http://nicoleatkins.com/home/ and his old friend Christopher will be on drums. They will share the stage with the Avett Brothers again, and open for Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. My son will visit his sister in Nashville on the 16th when they play TN Music City Roots – they will also be filming for PBS to benefit the Nature Conservancy. http://musiccityroots.com/events/

He’ll be onstage for his birthday this summer, so chances are he’ll have a big crowd singing “Happy Birthday.” All the while working on The Parlor Mob’s reunion shows this Fall and scoring music for film on the road. http://www.davidjamesrosen.com Unfortunately, he’s going to miss his Grandma Ada’s second 90th birthday bash in NJ (the first was in Mexico), and I can’t tell you how many people want to sing and dance at her party!

Which makes me think about the Flapper, sneaking out of her bedroom window in Scranton, PA to dance all night to the Tommy Dorsey band. Later in the 20s, Tommy joined his brother Jimmy in a band they called the Scranton Sirens. Later still, as a dowager on Lake Minnetonka, my brother Mike had Cab Calloway play piano for our Mother. The rest of that jazz is history

…it comes around.

The Rocker was named after Sue’s father, and got off a plane from Mexico with Ms Cait to attend her funeral. I like to think he was her favorite cousin.    photo

 

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Trumpets please. The cast came off and a splint went on, my dominant right hand that is. It seems that despite being told there is nothing one can do about a fractured pinky finger, the UVA Hand Clinic has me doing some serious physical therapy. I’m sure that my three week wait to actually see a doctor after the bounce house fall, planting in my garden and mailing 90th birthday party invitations, didn’t help my hand heal. But that’s just me; delay, deny and avoid doctors at all costs since I have so many at home. That’s my problem.

You might think that a doctor’s family has it made in the shade. But I’m here to tell you that’s not the case. It’s pretty well known that anyone involved in health care will be treated differently in a hospital. It’s kind of the opposite of selection bias – once the person treating you finds out you’re in the same field – nurse, doc, therapist or spouse of same, whatever – they may subtly change their strategy. The person treating you may not even realize they are doing this, but by being nicer, kinder and making exceptions to their rules and treating you differently, they are shortchanging you.

Let me find an example. When I came down with West Nile before moving to VA, after a week of unendurable headaches and fever, I finally got to an Opthalmologist who knew what he was doing. I was sent pronto to the nearest hospital’s MRI machine and ended up waiting in the hallway until one became available. I was in such pain and going blind that I hardly registered what Bob was saying to all those people who knew him so well, all I remember is everybody apologizing for me being in a hallway.

I really didn’t care about the hallway at that moment, I wanted the pain to stop.

They didn’t do a lumbar puncture (LP) because well I didn’t see the ER doctor on duty, and they didn’t have an available room, and besides I didn’t want an LP and nobody wanted to question my husband and his wife as to what they wanted in this emergent situation. I hope you’re getting my drift…

If I hadn’t been with Bob, if I’d have been anybody else, the eye doctor probably would have called an ambulance and I would have been whisked away toute suite to a hospital with a bed and an available MRI machine and an ER doc who would have punctured my spine alright, and I would have been admitted to the hospital. Instead I was sent home on steroids.

In the worst of circumstances the very best people in health care will try and make our (meaning everyone else in the health care field) lives easier – thereby putting us at greater risk.

This is why when I went to another state while pregnant with the Rocker for my “older mother” test – the one where they stick a needle in your pregnant belly to get some amniotic fluid – I told the receptionist that my husband was a contractor! Yes sir, I lied because A) this amniocentesis test was fairly new, and 2) I didn’t want anyone to know my husband was a doctor because I was unconsciously already aware of this selection bias.

I know I’m complaining in a sort of ‘poor privileged me’ way – first world problems. And I know this anecdotal bias has probably never been studied, but I’m not the first to notice it. Ask anyone you know in the health care field. Oh, and when my wonderful NP asked me at the UVA Hand Clinic to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10, I had to smile.

Because Bob has always said the day he hammered his thumb accidentally putting up a shelf was a BIG 10. He saw stars, he couldn’t speak, and finally when he could, all he could do was swear. When he walks into a room to see a patient and they are texting, he remembers his thumb and knows this is not a 10 on the pain scale. But pain is pretty subjective, your 7 may be my 3?

This is the first time in 2 weeks I’m using more fingers than two thumbs to write. And for that I am grateful. It’s good to start off your day listing two things you’re grateful for, soooo 1) Yay for 9 fingered typing

And B) I’m also happy my 6’3″ son and Ms Cait came to visit this past weekend. That baby who backed away in the womb from the needle in the ultrasound of my amniocentesis test, is going to turn 30 this summer! And his Grandmother Ada just turned 90! Bring on the fanfare!   IMG_0699

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I remember once going out to dinner with the family, and arranged before us on the table were your typical paper placemats. Except that on these cute little mats were a number of what looked like high school portrait pictures. The mats were titled something like “Before They Were Famous.” There in the corner was the key, and you had to match the picture with the star. So long before smart phones and portable gaming devices, long before reality TV produced celebrities, a family had the chance to actually interact by guessing which adolescent girl was now Cher.

Tonight, if you’re lucky enough to live in the New York metropolitan area, or have access to WNET channel 13, http://www.wnet.org, you can tune into a documentary at 10:30 that shines a light on some of our generation’s most acclaimed modern artists.  But it’s like a dream within a dream, because we get a glimpse of the early life of these men, before Studio 54 threw stardust around them, through the lens of a friend and photographer, William John Kennedy.

Full Circle: Before They Were Famous
FULL CIRCLE: BEFORE THEY WERE FAMOUS is the story behind a series of photographs of Andy Warhol and Robert Indiana taken by William John Kennedy in 1963/64 just as the 2 artists were on the cusp of fame. It includes terrific footage of a rare interview with Robert Indiana at his home in Vinalhaven, as well as moments with Ultra Violet and Taylor Mead.
The Director of the Warhol Museum, Eric Shiner, is interviewed and we gain his insight while we watch the evolution of an artistic icon. But if you listen carefully, you’ll hear the musical score of this film, and those of you who know him may recognize a certain something.  Because the music was created by my son, the Rocker, and like any good mom I’d recognize that sound anywhere. From the moment he picked up a violin in first grade, and our Corgi accompanied him, throughout high school with his band in our garage, I’ve become his biggest fan.
I was thinking about him yesterday, on the anniversary of 9/11. Because I knew where my daughter was; I had called her in DC to tell her what was happening and I knew she had left the federal building she was working in and started walking back to her apartment in Adams Morgan. And I knew where Bob was; he was waiting with rescue personnel at the dock in Highlands, NJ for burn patients who never came. But I didn’t know where my son was. He was supposed to start his first after-high-school job on that beautiful Fall day, and they had called to tell him not to come in, but I couldn’t find him.
He was out at Sandy Hook with his friends on the beach, watching the plume of the Twin Tower’s smoke drift out to sea. And the collective trauma of that day was familiar, that sense of suffering brought me back to 1963 when I learned that our President had been shot while I was in gym class at my NJ high school. What does that say about a generation marked by such a tragedy?
Because even before his band, The Parlor Mob, became famous, before the world tours and the Paris Vogue cover shoots and the iTunes Best Rock Band of the Year award, I was always proud of my son for following his own heart, for playing outside of the lines. As the Bard likes to say, and I may have quoted this in his senior yearbook, “To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”
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While surfing the worldwide web this morning, I clicked on a Rolling Stone’s article about the best live bands, “50 Greatest Live Acts Right Now.” I think I found this via Facebook. http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/50-greatest-live-acts-right-now-20130731

Naturally, one of the best was the Parlor Mob. http://www.disarraymagazine.com/2012/03/live-review-parlor-mob-rocks-house-of.html Alright so I’m prejudiced. Since they parted ways, I hear from my Lovely Leo birthday boy what each band member is up to; who they are playing with, flying off to Sweden with, getting married to…  Aside from scoring films, the Rocker is currently playing with 2 bands:

Sikamor Rooney http://sikamorrooney.bigcartel.com/products and

the Black Jesuses http://blackjesuses.com – http://www.surfingmagazine.com/sounds/sounds-the-black-jesus/

Because music is a part of his DNA. But he is also a writer, writing all of the lyrics to his music today. And I thought back to a time in middle school, when he wrote an exceptional essay on censorship. We were proud that at such a young age, he could feel so passionately about artistic freedom.

So with some sense of danger, I sought out the latest edition of Rolling Stone magazine. Because it’s not OK with me when drugstores try to limit my access to a magazine. I found it surreptitiously bundled in front of the very last cashier at our local Barnes and Noble, not in its usual spot among all the other magazine racks. And somehow the cashier gave off a sinister vibe, or maybe it was me, like I was purchasing contraband. photo

And the article about the Boston Bomber was compelling and answered many questions we’ve all been asking, like how can such a normal looking kid, a kid who was in college and became a citizen last year, become a monster? I know in today’s world that magazine article was a click away, but in a small way, I was making a point. And now we hear that the magazine doubled their news stand sales this month…so you see censors, some things have unintended consequences.

You may not agree with me, but lucky for us we live in a country where writers can speak the truth not only to power, but to the world.

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What do Mick Jagger and Bond, James Bond have in common? The passage of time. This year is their Golden Anniversary. Yes folks, my generation has brought you the two most consistently successful entertainment franchises in the history of the universe. The Stones are set to tour the world, post Keith Richard’s head injury in Fiji; and Keith and Mick Jagger are the only original members left standing. Once the symbol of rebellion for me and mine, today they play for big bucks and family outings. Believe me, I loved the Beatles, just not as much as the Stones. I was a teenager on the banks of Lake St Joseph when my conversion began.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_VbImuG71M

“And a band that was once synonymous with a riotous volatility has become — despite all commercial, cultural and chemical odds — a symbol of stability. Members now describe the band with an unexpected word for the Rolling Stones: discipline. ‘It requires quite a bit of discipline to be a Rolling Stone,’ Mr. Richards said. ‘Although it seems to be shambolic, it’s a very disciplined bunch.'”

As a young teen, my brother Dr Jim, always brought me to the Baker Theatre for a Bond double feature. Remember when you could see 2 movies for the price of 1, and get a good half an hour of Wylie Coyote cartoons as a prelude? Sounds like I’m dating myself, and I guess I am. But Bond hasn’t grown old. The Ian Fleming template began with the best, Sean Connery, and now only continues to get better with Daniel Craig. We have a new movie theatre in town, an Imax, and I’ve got a date with Bob on the calendar to see “Skyfall.” Here’s a little walk down memory lane http://www.eonline.com/photos/5837/23-best-and-worst-james-bond-movies/208602

Funny thing is, I saw the Stones at the Meadowlands for my 50th birthday and I’ve really no need to see them again. Unless, maybe someday, when the pre-teen Love Bug wants to see them? Let’s see, Mick will be about 80 by that time. I’ll be holding on so long!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWaR29_sMrs

Here is the octogenarian Great Grandma Ada holding our Sweet Thing – 4 generations of fabulous Rose-Lynn Girls. Bond Girls, move over!

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