I ran across this one in a queue of music that Google/YouTube curated for me. I must say, I have become a big fan of Inappropriate Jazz, which is advertised as “edgy angry woman singing.” I admit, I would not want to listen to the entire album in one sitting, but dispersed throughout my day, it’s a fucking pleasure. Heh…
So many people have told me what a lady should and shouldn’t do, over the years. I got tired of it, stopped listening entirely, and simply focused on being the best PERSON I could be. It wasn’t until my early 40s that the idea of being a lady came up again. I’m still not sold on it, but there are moments when I dress “as a lady” and behave myself with a modicum of politeness because it’s appropriate to the time. I suppose in those moments, I could be called a lady.
Sometimes you think you know a musical artist, and then they throw you a curve ball. Alice Cooper was like that. He started out wanting to be the “worst band ever” and became popular. Then they did the 70s thing and went mainstream (that’s where this song comes in). And then shock rock became a thing, and he found his complete groove. I hope you enjoy. This is one of my favorite Cooper songs, and it never got air play because it’s not “scary” Coop stuff.
There are moments I like being a lady. There are times I actually settle into a comfortable grandma moment. But let’s be honest, now… I’m not that way by nature. This song sings to my soul. 🙂
Talking about taxing the rich made me think about Leftist math, which made me think of New Math and the troubles I had learning it. So this is for all of us who struggled with New Math. 😉
I’ve always liked this song. I think the first time I ever heard it was on the Muppet Show (yeah, I know, I’m dating myself). More than just liking it, I feel like it says so much about today…
There’s a portion of the lyrics that say:
There’s battle lines being drawn Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong Young people speaking their minds Are getting so much resistance from behind
It just resonates. I realize in ’66 it was probably the Left they were talking about, but if you really put your mind to it, the issues of ’66 on the Left are today’s Right leaning issues more often than not.
I’m tired of there being no way to communicate across the great divide. I’m tired of the resistance to facts. I’m tired of the lies. I’m tired of having to police Every Single Thing I read or hear about in a day. It’s just exhausting. I’m sure that’s what it’s supposed to be…
But here’s the thing: I’m not giving up. I might be quiet (because, as I remind myself frequently, I am NOT the idiot-whisperer), but I’m still here. I am not giving in to illustrating “when people are wrong on the internet” (for the most part), because it doesn’t actually fix anything. But I do speak up when it’s important, among my friends and family. I’m not where they are, a lot of the time… but I’m noticing more and more that people are beginning to be more open to talking.
This week at the Fort, I had a long talk with someone whose opinion I value highly. We were not on the same side… but we recognized that our end goal was the same. It led to interesting discussion, which both of us decided was worth looking into. Neither of us changed our opinion, per se, but we heard the other side and granted there was at least a grain of truth that warranted investigation. So it isn’t all bad, folks. It just feels like it is, sometimes.
I love songs by strong women. This one really hit me. I love the tune, the slightly odd scansion of it, and her voice just purrs. I hope you enjoy as much as I do.
I hate flying. I being around people. The thought of going to a place where there are lots of people does not appeal to me.
I’m cold. I’ve been cold for a few days now. My child is trapped in her dorm with 36+ inches of snow blocking everywhere she wants to go. Power is out in some dorms. They ran out of hot water, food service has been reduced to making and delivering pizzas.
Sunday we finally got our wood delivered. My son, wife, Ally and I were out in the cold moving and stacking wood. The wonder of the congo line.
Son picks up a stick and swings it to me. I take it and chuck it across the yard to land in front of one of the stacks. As the pile gets high enough infront of the stack, I switch targets and start tossing into a pile in front of a different stack.
Ally and wife are busy stacking from the piles I’m making. Nobody is bending. When the pile is too short for son to reach without bending, he goes to one knee an just keeps going.
So I want to be on a warm beach, huddled under my woobie, sun glasses on. A few spare mags, and just be warm.
