Thank you to Rochelle for providing Friday Fictioneers!
Song Without End
He’s gone again. Continue reading
We’ve been friends for years. Or so I thought. Continue reading
Written in response to the black and white challenge offer by Charli Mills’ @ Carrot Ranch.
Until I was eighteen, I was Dad’s favorite. By focusing on my music, becoming the best mandolinist in the three states, I pursued Dad’s ambition, which had been squelched by pragmatic parents. Continue reading
Just to switch things up from last week, I am actually having a cup of coffee as I write Continue reading
So a couple of weeks ago I ranted about the Train song that seemed gratingly ubiquitous. I will continue to offer up replacement songs that I hear. I heard this one twice on the radio this week (I’m a station flipper; I don’t do it with the tv, but I do flip over commercials or inane DJ chatter). I really like the sound of it. Something different in a cookie cutter world. Portugal. The Man “Feel It Still.”
I don’t like to rant. There are enough people ranting, so I don’t provide that service here, except under extreme conditions.
I certainly don’t rant about music because my world would be very, very dark without music. I do love some of almost all kinds of music that I hear and no, I’m not just saying that. If you look at the music I share with you, you know that to be true.
I’m wearing my blonde wig, red cowboy boots, denim mini and a tight v-neck red top.
I never have much to set up, just an amplifier and the microphone’s already in place, but I do like to have my guitar plugged in and it’s then that I see him: Callum Johnson, sitting at a front table, his blue jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him, while he draws from a long-neck bottle of some standard American beer. Still no microbrew for Cal.
You don’t know me, but you probably know women like me. Years ago we would have been called wallflowers and then a few years later painfully shy. These days we may fly under the flag of introvert, but ever since I saw these bubbly blondes on a morning news show call themselves “introverts” I’ve had to reconsider the appellation because those women and me are not the same at all. I could never get in front of a camera with a live audience while also knowing that morning viewers were tuning in to watch me. The only way you might get me to do something like that is if I wasn’t me at all, which is exactly why several nights a week, I am not me.