Sometimes you just need to put your truest feelings into song…
If you can’t see this video, click here.
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In other exciting video news…the videos from Austin’s Listen to Your Mother show are now online, along with the nine other U.S. cities. There is so much talent and goodness here! Pour yourself a cup of whatever, dive in and enjoy!
She may have outgrown the shirt, but the nickname still fits.
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Speaking of time marching on…today I’m over at my friend Nancy’s place, writing about one of the oldest and most important albums in my life. Her wonderful blog, Midlife Mixtape, features a new column called Still in Rotation, where she invites readers to share stories about albums with incredible staying power. My longtime pals have heard me gush about R.E.M. for decades, but for my newer friends and readers, here’s a chance to see how the obsession started all those years ago.
After you check out my guest post, definitely browse through the rest of Midlife Mixtape. Two of my favorite posts are the hilarious No Gum, No Gun about having your I.D. checked at concerts, and the sweet Love’s Letters Lost, which laments the death of paper correspondence. (And no, it’s not just because that one features an omigod-they-are-so-adorbs video at the end. Ahem.)
Thanks Nancy for the invitation to guest post! You are one of the sharpest, funniest women I know! Mwah!
I love making a playlist almost as much as I like Mother’s Day. Regardless, this longtime hobby doesn’t get near the attention it deserves.
So it was with great pleasure that I was able to contribute to a pre-show soundtrack for our recent Listen to Your Mother: Austin show. (A playlist! About motherhood! With an Austin vibe! I was in total High Fidelity geek heaven.)
The days building up to the show, I was busy with behind-the-scenes details, so I didn’t get to enjoy the playlist much after I created it. But ever since we wrapped, I’ve had the music on repeat.
It goes without saying that the list is much better when heard in its entirety, preferably after the kids are asleep and you’re holding a glass of wine and the handprint gift of your dreams. Happy listening and Happy Mother’s Day!
I thought I could do it. I thought I could write about how profoundly my world shifted this week.
I thought I could artfully tell you how significant this news was to me:
R.E.M. is no longer a band.
For days I jotted down thoughts and recollections and felt sure I could share my story without resorting to clichés and empty phrases. I am no historian, no musicologist, but certainly I could paint you a personal picture of what a tremendous impact this band has had on me.
I thought I could tell you tales about how I discovered R.E.M. in high school, devoured them in college and clung to them throughout my 20s and 30s. I thought I could share poignant stories about waiting in midnight lines at record stores every time a new album came out…about the bootleg concert tapes I swapped with other R.E.M. fans…about how incredible it felt (every. single. concert.) to hear those first few notes of my favorite song…how this band was my first real love and the only one I never stopped loving.
I thought for sure I could quote you some inspiring lyrics I know by heart. That I could share the common threads that R.E.M. wove through my life story and personal soundtrack.
But it turns out I don’t have it in me. It turns out I can’t bend my words to do justice to what my heart wants to say. And my heart, it is aching right now. Honestly grieving. When I heard the news I surprised even myself by bursting into sudden and excessive tears. I sat there in my office alone, sobbing.
I admit it’s a little awkward to share that bit with you. I figure some of you may think it’s borderline crazy that a 39-year-old mother of three is crying over grown men—strangers! musicians! superstars!—and I won’t argue with how it all looks on paper.
But I will tell you that I didn’t feel the least bit melodramatic sitting there crying like a devastated child. Because here’s the deal: Something amazing happens when you love a band for so long…the experience turns into a relationship of sorts. And when you find out that the relationship is over—even if the ending comes in the best of situations, in a confluence of “it’s just time” circumstances—it’s still an enormous loss. And this band, this relationship, deserves every tear I shed.
My words may be struggling today, but I can say this without hesitation: it’s been an incredible gift to love R.E.M.’s music for so long. I will always be grateful for the anchor and the inspiration.
Thanks and Godspeed, y’all.
When the inevitable question arises, Doodlebug will be able to say that at her first concert she saw Ben Harper, R.E.M. and half a dozen more bands…even if she did sleep through the best parts.
Happy 10th Anniversary to ACL Festival! I’m on my way, so save me a spot in the shade.
In The Colors
Ben Harper
When your whole world is shaken from all the risks we have taken
Dance with me, dance with me into the colors of the dusk
When you have awoken from all the dreams broken
Come and dance with me, dance with me into the colors of the dusk
Dance with me in the colors of the dusk
The paths we’re walking on, they crumble behind us
But if we leave now, they will never find us
And if this crazy world spins itself down to dust, I want to be with you in the colors
When you again start hoping with your arms wide open
Come on, dance with me, dance with me into the colors of the dusk
And all will be right, dancing like water with the light
Dance with me, won’t you dance with me into the colors of the dusk?
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I’m so relieved that today went smoothly. I was a tad nervous after last week’s tearful playdates in the classroom, but today—wow! I can hardly believe Smiley and I didn’t cry on his first day of preschool.
Thanks for suggesting I bring his blankie this first week. I was not convinced it would be a good idea, given my mild germaphobia and past history with lost blankets. But he did like bringing it along and I’m glad it helped the transition.
To be completely honest, I planned to bring his favorite spatula instead of the blanket. I mean, you said we should bring any beloved object and he does love that cute red Williams-Sonoma one, plus it’s way easier to clean…but I would have hated for him to get labeled as That Kid so early in his school career.
So the blanket it was. And it worked…yay!
In the all the craziness of this past week, I haven’t had a chance to tell you a few things about Smiley that might make your job a little easier.
Besides books, blankets and red spatulas, music is the key to soothing my little guy. When you catch him pointing to the counter saying “de, de, de” that means he hopes you have an iPod up there and that you will turn it on and dance with him. This kid loves to dance, but only when he’s being held. We waltz, two-step and shake our butts just about every day in our little kitchen.
Smiley’s favorite song is about Dora. No, not that Dora, sheesh. What kind of Mom do you think I am? I’m talking about the Dora who is going to town in Andrew Bird’s song. Play this bouncy gem and you are guaranteed smiles.
When we are feeling even friskier, we shake it to Black Joe Lewis’ Sugarfoot. I’m not sure it’s appropriate for a church preschool, but at home we just gloss over the lyrics because damn it’s a super fun song!
To slow things down, it’s the Avett Brothers all the way. We are both partial to Pretty Girl from Annapolis, but Smiley will listen to just about any of their songs if he can cozy up on my shoulder and stare at himself in the glass door of our microwave.
Speaking of cuddling, can I make a special request? I hate to get all territorial in our first week, but can you please not dance with him to Dylan’s Mr. Tambourine Man. You see, that’s our song. And the moment it comes on—no matter if we are in the car or house or grocery store—Smiley’s arms bolt up in a Pick Me Up Now!! motion. I can’t help but oblige. He lays his head on my shoulder and sighs. When the harmonica heats up he presses into me. Then just as Dylan sings, “Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free…” I swear I feel the weight leave his body and mine.
It’s pretty awesome, really. And sorry, but it’s all mine.
You can have every other song and even the red spatula, but please, hands off the tambourine.
Sincerely,
Liz
(Smiley’s Mom)
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Speaking of music, we have a new favorite album in our house. It’s full of fun kid- and parent-friendly tunes, but best of all the profits go to a great cause. Read more about it here…and buy it here.
… only do or do not motivate him to practice piano.
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My little blog, with fake ID in hand, is out partying with the cool kids today, having drinks and ceviche with the uber-talented Scary Mommy.
In other words, I’ve written my first-ever guest post … and I’m so thrilled I can hardly stand it!
Please go check it out and let us know what you think!
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I have nobody to blame except myself.
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