Random Ramblings: October Edition

I thought it was time to update my blog because it's been a week since my last update and since I'm planning to get final drafts of a narration paper from one class this weekend and rough drafts of an argumentative paper early next week (read: I'm gonna be uber-busy starting with this weekend).

Not a lot to report on right now. I did buy a fairly inexpensive Squier Strat the other day. I've had a lot of fun playing some Grateful Dead tunes (my best so far is "Ripple," though I can do pretty well with "Mississippi Half Step Uptown Toodeloo" and "Me and My Uncle" and even "Mexicali Blues" (if I skip a particular chord).

Been reading Winesburg, Ohio, but I'll admit, it's not as good as I expected it to be. I'm gonna keep truckin' and hope to finish it before its due date (though I've already had to renew it once).

Also, I've been fairly sick; I got sick the day before I got the guitar. And that's been almost two weeks ago. Not sick enough to have to stay home from work, but sick enough to sound like crap. I was hoarse all last week. This week, my voice has reached the Janis Joplin level. That's what I like to call it. In other words, my voice isn't as hoarse, but is still gravelly enough that if I try to belt out a song like, oh, say "Mercedes Benz," I sound remarkably similar to Janis. It's kinda cool, but I'd also like to get over this sickness, too.

Well, that's all I've got for now. Plus, even though I don't have papers to grade, I do have other things to do. So I guess I'd better get to it, because papers will be here before I know it! Peace out, y'all...

I Need a Miracle (Every Day)

Dear Jerry,

It hurts me to write this letter, but to get to the point, I am going to have to leave you for Bob Weir. To be honest, it was "Samson and Delilah" that did it for me. However, he really had me at "Sugar Magnolia."

Don't get me wrong, Jerry, I still love you for "Franklin's Tower," "Friend of the Devil," and "U.S. Blues." It's just that those aren't my top songs at the moment. I apologize for being so fickle.

Really Jerry, it's not you, it's me. I love your sound, but sometimes it's just too mellow for me. I can't help myself, but I really love the screaming rhythm of music like "One More Saturday Night."

I really do dig your lead guitar skills, and I like you better in a full beard and mustache. In my opinion, Bobby should go back to the long sideburns, long ponytail, and hair in the face look he had going on in '72; but you Jerry--you rocked that bushy beard look.

In closing, I'll "say my piece and get out." We've had some good times together Jerry Garcia, but for the time being, I think I'm going to have to listen to another lead singer. I hope you'll understand.

Your fan,
Sunshine Jones

P.S. Please don't take it personally, Jerry. I'm sure I'll come around and favor your songs again sometime. After all, you were my first favorite Grateful Dead lead.

Just When I Didn't Think Things Could Get Any Stranger...

I find out that I share a birthday with country singer Miranda Lambert.

Strange thing is, I have this love/hate thing with country music. I love some of it, and hate some of it. I happen to love Miranda Lambert's music, though. A few years back, when her song "Me and Charlie Talking" came out, I remember it was one of the few songs I'd stop at a country station for.

Side note: I'm the world's most annoying radio hog in my car. I will "surf" the stations the way some people surf cable. If I hear a song I like, I stop and listen to it. If there's a certain line of a song that I like, I'll listen for that, but sometimes will start surfing again once the favorite line is through. Numerous times, I have taken a 20-30 minute drive without listening to one song in its entirety.

Anyway, I'm driving home from church today and "Kerosene" comes on. Haven't heard the song in a while, so I decided to listen to it. I like Lambert's music because it's sassy, but not bitchy. Or at least that's my take on it. Well, really I can't explain it well. She's just one of the few female musicians I like. Her songs? The rhythm is good, the accompanyment excellent, the lyrics superb.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me: I have no idea what Miranda Lambert looks like. I can't even tell how old she is. So, when I got home, I decided to Google her. In all the results that came up, the one that said "November 10 1983" really stuck out to me. Two girls from my school also shared the birthday with me, and we all seemed to think it was the coolest thing ever. Well, until we grew out of it, anyway.

So I guess this year, Good Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, I'll have to tell Miranda Lambert happy birthday too :)

Fun With Tucker and Friends at the IBBC

While I sit here bemoaning the fact that I'm uber-behind on Monochrome Monday and MIA for TCT (and to cope, scarfing down the Kit Kats), I start burrowing around in the archives to see how I used to write. What was the deal? I think I used to be funnier than I am now. It's like I've mellowed out or something. Anyway, that's off-topic. I decided, while looking through the archives, that I should write about my experience at the IBBC last night.

So, I randomly decided to go with RC and SC to the IBBC last night. Nothing special going on, I just wanted to meet Brother Tucker. You read that right. And speaking of reading rights, I'm surprised I didn't get mine read last night. Every time I step foot into the IBBC, I lose my mind. I get silly, probably from being around R and SC. Plus, I forget that their church is quite strict, and I just generally act myself.

So, RC is playing the piano and BW is leading songs. He starts singing as RC messes up. "Oh, let me try that again" RC announces from the piano. Good thing it's a small church.

Of course, I don't know any of the songs. But it doesn't keep me from singing! Just like at karaoke...

Oh yes, and another word about the songs, I generally sing with the guys because if this alto tries to hit the high notes, her voice cracks like a pubescent boy's. Not pleasant to anyone's ears.

So finally songs are over and PW (this would be BW's uncle) announces that some girl was writing to the church asking for money. BW confirmed (from the pulpit) that he knew the girl and that she had worked for Subway. Then he clarified that this was a Subway restaurant and not an underground train. Whoa.

Let's see... then RC comes back from the piano and sits next to me. BW sits down as well, being replaced by Brother Tucker. Brother Tucker wants to discuss the church's Easter sunrise service. I'm not paying attention as I'm not planning on attending. I'm also not planning on the discussion taking 15 minutes of church time! I'm not even sure, after all the discussion, what they decided to even do.

Anyway, it's finally time for the sermon (though it seems like the hour is already up) and Brother Tucker reads from Psalm 66:15 (though I don't remember how the Scripture tied into the lesson) I do, sadly, remember that he told some joke about a little kid whose teacher always transposed numbers, so the kid told the teach to write down 66 so that it would be the same backwards and forwards. The rest of the congregation was laughing.

Then, let's see... old Tucker starts talking about irrigation in Utah (how's that for randomness?) and RC writes down "It Never Rains in Southern California" (okay, it's a little obscure, but she and I both like it). Doesn't the name Albert Hammond mean anything to anyone anymore? RC slyly turns her notebook so I can read the song reference--she doesn't make eye contact with me--and then we both start snickering in the back row. We joked about being "Back Row Baptists" though I am not really a Baptist and their church claims to be independent (hence the "I" in the name).

Then, Bro. Tucker launches into another of his famous "Oh my soul!" tirades, which sends RC and I into another illicit giggle-fest (thought I was going to have to sneak off into the bathroom if this kind of thing didn't stop--I really didn't want to be offensive, but at solemn moments, I've noticed that things you generally wouldn't laugh about become about 100x funnier).

And oh, by the way, I guess RC forgot that, though it never rains in Southern California, it pours, man, it pours.

Losing Faith In Today's Youth

Driving down Main Street in my town, I heard a DJ on the radio announce, "And now, Barracuda with... Heart." Need I say more?

True Colours Thursday--Blue!

Blue has made its way around again, and this week I went with a musical theme. These are the album covers of three of my favorite artists/bands.

Of course, the Beatles!

The Eagles

Lucinda Williams probably isn't as well-known as the first two. She has a unique style--country/bluesy/Southern rock-ish... I don't know how to categorize it, but I like it!

True Colours Thursday is the brainchild of friend Blue

That'll Be That Was the Day...

Can you believe it's been 50 years since the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper? Man, I can't. Ever weirder is to know that, were the three still alive today, they would be 72, 67, and 78, respectively. I wish I could go to Lubbock today for one of their Buddy Holly life celebrations. Hey, this guy did a lot in 22 years, and he was my favorite musician for a long time. Then, somehow I kind of got out of the '50s and spent a brief time in the early to mid '60s, jumped into a quick infatuation with the '80s, and then settled comfortably into the late '60s-mid '70s.

Anyway, when I was in my Buddy Holly phase, I wasn't crazy about "Peggy Sue." I did like "That'll Be the Day," but most of my other favs were fairly obscure. I absolutely loved "Rock Around with Ollie Vee," though I have no idea what the lyrics are. And when I was in the 8th grade, I won $25 for singing his version of "Oh Boy" and playing my guitar at a school talent show. Yeah, I may have been a little obsessed with the Crickets when I tried to form my own rockabilly band in the 7th grade. One of my friends was supposed to be a drummer, and the other was to be a keyboardist. Unfortunately, neither of them knew how to play their instruments. Even more disheartening, neither of them had their instruments. It was all well and good that I was going to be the lead singer/rhythm guitarist. Heck, we didn't even have a lead guitar. It was a sorry excuse for a "band." Needless to say, that didn't last long.

For years, I actually celebrated Buddy Holly's birthday (September 7) by making him a poster and boring everyone I knew with random Buddy Holly facts (keep in mind, most of these people were kids my age who'd never even heard of the guy). And one year (not that long ago), I went to see a Buddy Holly impersonator at a theatre for my birthday. That was cool, but I wish I could've met the real Buddy Holly, though.

A Little Slice of Sunshine's World...

What a day. I woke up at 7:00 to my cell phone alarm. Then, I promptly went back to sleep, had a weird dream that I no longer remember, and re-woke up a little after 8:00. Grabbed some breakfast, hit the shower, called into work, found out I had to go in at 1:00, posted Word of the Day, goofed off on the computer until it was time for dinner at Grandma's, and then went to work for 45 minutes. Yeah, 45 minutes.

While at Grandma's, I learned that my dad's birthday gift (that I sent to my grandma's address because she compulsively checks her mail) arrived today. As did Grandma's converter boxes. Here in the US, as of sometime next month (I forget the day), analog TV will be no more. Analog TVs will need to be connected to a digital converter box to receive television signals. This was a big deal to Grandma. She insisted that my dad hook up her converter box immediately. He fiddled around and struggled over her multiple bags of crochet supplies, searching in vain for an electrical outlet. He yelled for Grandma to come help, and she pulled out a crazy mass of those outlet adapters (that get more mileage out of your wall outlet) plugged into an extension cord, and all ports were in use. A huge debate ensued as to which necessity should be unplugged to make room for the converter box. The TV, VCR, and antenna control needed to stay in. As did the lamp(s), apparently. I left the room to go eat. Finally, Grandma got an idea. I saw her reach across my place at the table to rob another one of those adapters from an outlet in her kitchen. I never knew she was such a risk-taker.

After more struggles, Dad finally had the converter box hooked up and working. But NBC wasn't coming in. And Grandma had to watch Judge Judy. Personally, I'd rather do without Judge Judy. But then, I'm not a fan of television, except perhaps TV on DVD. And anyway, I was already late for work...

After work, I can't really account for most of the afternoon--I guess I was just lounging around a lot. I know I did crochet a lot on the doily. I have less than 20 motifs on the last round until the whole thing is done. I'll be ready to move on to another project soon, as my crafting supplies seem to have taken over my room (I take after Granny) and are becoming quite a burden on my room-cleaning prospects.

Later this evening, I started working on my Sunday Scribblings post on my laptop while Mom started on hers on the home computer, thus tying up the Internet for much of the evening. While writing my post, I did something I haven't done in a long time: I listened to music.

I forgot how much I enjoyed listening to music while doing creative writing. I also forgot how the music inspired me. It brought back memories, too. As I was telling Robin the other day, I generally associate music with events in my life. Still not sure about that Sunday Scribblings post, and I really should work on that movie review, but, perhaps tomorrow.