Atlantic City, May 2015

It's been almost two years since we last visited Atlantic City. In that time a couple of casinos and many jobs have been lost. As I was heading up to Brooklyn, I thought I would see if there were any discounted rooms available. I was able to get a room at Bally's for $41 a night, which after resort fees and taxes really comes out to $75 a night! It was the cheapest I could find so figured why not. This was the view from our room...

If you decide to stay at Bally's, be forewarned the elevators are being repaired in the Tower which means only two are working and lengthy wait times around peak hours. And no way are you walking up to the 35th floor. You're actually better staying on a higher floor like 35-40 because you're guaranteed to get on the elevator going down. If you're on say, the 20th, good luck with that! Last time we stayed in the marina area at the Golden Nugget. That was a beautiful room, but they had a lousy casino. I would have booked the Borgata, but since I'm not a high roller I couldn't get a cheap room. This trip I wanted to stay on the boardwalk so we could take advantage of the beautiful weather.

Just a couple of quick observations regarding Atlantic City...maybe because it was not "in-season" yet, we had a hard time finding an open restaurant Sunday night. We tried to get into the empty Gordon Ramsey joint at Caesar's, but was told it was an hour wait. I call bullshit! They just want you to think it was busy, but based on the number of empty tables we saw, it wasn't. We ended up eating at the Rainforest Cafe, which was okay, but better if you have kids who will enjoy the roaring of the elephants and pretend thunderstorm more than you will. The following night we went to the Borgata as the Japanese restaurant there had a Monday special...half-priced appetizers, rolls, and sake. I wasn't impressed with the portion size, nor the quality of food. And it was way too loud in there. The sake was the highlight of that meal. I will recommend highly Harry's Oyster Bar between Bally's and Caesar's. Fresh seafood, delicious drinks, and fair prices. The raw clams tasted as if the chef went out to the ocean and dug them out right before our lunch. Yum!

Atlantic City seemed deserted. At least the boardwalks were. Didn't bother going into the city itself. Every casino was pretty empty too. Now, you would think they would lower the minimum amount for table games to attract people like me, but they didn't. I lost my limit at roulette in about five minutes. None of the slots in any casino paid off. My favorite slot, Wheel of Fortune, was particularly irksome; every time I'd get the free spin, it would only land on 40, and that's many different machines in many different casinos. Since I had spoken "Rabbit, Rabbit" up the chimney the moment I awoke on the first of May, I thought perhaps the good luck I was hoping to receive would mean I would hit the $388,809 progressive jackpot. Nope, nothing even close!

What would I do if I did hit such a windfall? That's easy...buy a beach house. I love, love, love the shore, and my dream of dreams is to one day wake up, and fall asleep, to the sounds of surf and seagulls. For now I'll have to take what I can which is putting my feet in the frigid surf, which was by far, the highlight of visiting Atlantic City.

My moment of zen...I recorded this on my phone so whenever I get stressed I can listen to it...

Quickie

Hey all, just wanted to drop by for a quickie, no not that kind silly, a quickie update!

I see it's been over a month since I've posted. Wish I had a good reason for that, but I don't. I'd love to say I've been working furiously on my new book, but I'm not. Would love to say I've been traveling to some exotic ports, but I haven't. I might lie and say I've been busy working at the shop, or cataloging books, or creating the website for those books, or creating a website for my husband's woodworks, or, or, or, or...but I can't. I haven't been blogging because I am suffering from writer's block which I have determined is being caused by depression. Hopefully I'll snap out of it soon, or at least write about why I'm depressed which might help break the block, but when? I don't know. Until then, carry on...and I'll share the one thing that makes me smile these days...my silly Bella.

Patti Smith in 2014 - I Danced, I Sang, I Cried

I really don't have much on my bucket list, but one item I did have on it was to see Patti Smith perform live again. I never thought it would happen, but I always held out hope. Those of you who know me, know what a huge fan I am, and the rest of you now know. I've been with her from the beginning, and the last time I went to see her I was 19 years old...May 20th, 1978 when she was performing at the Palladium in New York City.

Unfortunately, I never made it to the show. Instead, I spent the night in a Brooklyn police station after a friend and I got beat up and robbed the moment we stepped on an N train on our way into the city, by a gang that was hopped up and heading back from Coney Island to their stomping grounds in Sunset Park.

At the time I still had the wrinkled ticket wedged tight in my back black jean's pocket, and although I was bruised and beaten, I still wanted to go catch the show. It never happened. I always regretted it. Shortly soon after, Patti met Fred Sonic Smith, they married, she moved to Michigan, and they started a family. Patti put performing on hold and, like many other mothers, focused her life on the children.

After the death of her husband, and by the time Patti re-emerged back in New York City I had gotten married, moved to Virginia, and put my life on hold to raise my children. I still listened to her music, bought every new cd, read all her books and usually capped the year by listening to her on Sirius as she performed a New Year's Eve show at the Bowery Ballroom.

I had gotten used to being alone on New Year's Eve with Patti, me dancing and singing, while the other members of my family hid, or left. One year I heard two friends scream my name during a lull in between songs, and I felt, for a second, I was in New York City. So it was a great disappointment when I discovered Patti was no longer being broadcast live on Sirius. Being far away from my friends and family in New York, never getting invited to any parties in Roanoke, made each New Year's Eve in Virginia a depressing date. This past New Year's Eve looked to be the worst one yet as both of my children wouldn't be spending it with us.

And then my cousin came to my rescue. The only person I know who is a bigger Patti fan than I am, he asked me if I wanted to see Patti Smith with him at Webster Hall on Patti's birthday, December 30. YES! So I set about arranging things so we could run up to New York right after Christmas, and if all went well, even spend New Year's Eve there amongst friends. By the time he went to get the tickets Patti's birthday show was sold out, but she was also performing the night before so he got tickets for that night.

I then heard that another band that I loved from back in the day, Television, would be playing at Irving Plaza the night before Patti played. Since he had bought me Patti tickets for Christmas, I told my cousin I would buy Television tickets for his Christmas present. When I received a notice that Gogol Bordello was also going to be playing in New York City on January 2nd I thought I hit the rock 'n roll trifecta! I figured this musical holiday trip would be my live performance swan song.

We drove into the city to see Television and congrats to former mayor Bloomberg to making the city, especially the lower east side, a place I no longer recognized, and one unfriendly to car drivers. Every avenue and street caters to bicyclists. Parking spots are even rarer than they were, and the lanes barely fit a vehicle. We almost got creamed on E. Houston Street, before the show, and I was so shaken up I had heart palpitations. Thank God my husband was driving because if it was me we probably wouldn't have made it to the show.

I can't remember the last time I was at Irving Plaza, but it was a time when I was younger, thinner, could stand for hours in a hot crowded place, and didn't pay $8 for a 12 ounce can of Budweiser. We stood way in the back and I could barely see Tom Verlaine. Too many tall people were blocking my view and we were stuck under red spotlights that made me feel like I was a piece of chicken being kept warm while sitting on a counter. The show was good, but cut short after Verlaine's hand cramped up while playing Marquee Moon. I felt so bad for him. You could see he wanted to go on, but his 60-something year old hand was making it impossible. Before this happened I was mesmerized by the way his guitar sang. His voice did not sing as well and I thought he might be fighting off a cold or something. By the time we left all three of us were complaining about our aching feet, back, parched throat, etc. My husband was glad he was staying home the next night. After taking an hour to find a parking spot back at the house, waking up sore after a restless sleep, I felt like staying home the next night too. But I couldn't, so I pushed myself, and told my cousin we would be taking the train into the city instead of driving. I hate driving the mini van in Roanoke, there was no way I was attempting it in the city, and driving around hours looking for a spot in Brooklyn was insane.

Just the mere thought of taking the subway to see Patti brought back horrible memories. I was working myself up into a near panic attack just waiting on the platform. I kept telling myself I was being ridiculous, but every gangsta that stepped onto the train I imagined would pull out a straight-edged razor and threaten me with it. As my pepper spray was illegal in NYC, I had taken a Binaca spray in its place -- thank you Elaine from Seinfeld -- and I hoped I only would have to use it to kill bad breath. When we finally arrived, my heart jumped when I saw the marquee...

My cuz

I dressed smarter for this show by wearing comfortable shoes that had a sole, a very light-weight shirt, a jacket I could tie around my waist, and I smuggled in a bottle of water. We found a spot to the left of the stage much closer than I thought we would have gotten. There was only one tall guy in front of me so I was able to see unobstructed as long as I tilted to the right. The crowd was electric and everyone was so nice. Way different than the night before where I had this one loose cannon near me muttering, "I feel like I gotta hurt somebody. I'm gonna go off, I can feel it!" as he became more and more drunk. He must have smuggled in his own booze! In front of me at Webster Hall, was a dad my age with his two teen-aged children. The only bad thing about where we stood was someone was letting out silent but deadly farts the entire show. Disgusting!

Anyway, I was surprised when Michael Stipe stepped out on the stage before Patti.

The one "big head" in my way. Stipe complained it was cold, but having sweated like a roasted chicken the previous night I was happy it wasn't stifling.

He said she had asked him to open up by reading poetry or performing or something. It had been eight years since he performed on a stage and he said he was nervous. He told us how he played Webster when it was the Ritz and knew REM had "made it" when they opened for Gang of Four. When he stood on that stage at that time he thought the Ritz was huge. Then as REM got bigger and bigger whenever he came back to town and went to the Ritz he thought it was tiny. Now, once again, after not singing for so long, looking out over the audience, he thought it was huge. His voice has changed, but he sounded great. He performed six songs, accompanied on piano by Patti's daughter Jesse which included New York, New York. Anyone can sing that song, and if you're a New Yorker, especially someone who moved out of New York, it will bring tears to your eyes and chills down your spine. "These little town blues are melting away..."



And then Patti stepped on stage and I was transported back to the seventies.

Her voice, her mannerisms, her back-and-forth with the audience was everything I remembered seeing her the dozens of times. Lenny Kaye and Jay Dee Dougherty were still right there with her. The band was tight, she was loose, and I felt young again. I danced, I sang, I cried. It was beautiful. I couldn't believe she was going to be 68 in a couple of hours. I didn't want the night to end. The only "disappointment" was when she said they wouldn't be performing anything from Horses as November 10, 2015 was the 40th anniversary of the album and they planned to perform it live in New York City on that date. Yes, I want to go!

Right before she ended the show she gave what I would call a pep speech, and when she ended it with stating we shouldn't fear, or never have fear, or show no fear, or something to that effect, I felt like she was talking directly to me. Fear is stifling. Fear stops you from living life to the fullest. I want to make 2015 the year of no fear.

As if to put it to the test, we got back on the subway around midnight and the train that pulled in was an N train. Not only did we take it, but we had to switch trains on 59th Street in Brooklyn, the very station where I was beaten and mugged. I stood there waiting on the empty platform for the R to come, and guess what, I felt no fear...

12/13/14

When I was writing out a check this morning I realized it was 12/13/14. That's a date easily remembered, and had I been single, yet in a lengthy relationship, I probably would have considered that date to be a good date to get married on. It would be lucky, no? I wonder how many other people chose that date because it was special. I hope the ones that did have better luck than I did when choosing special wedding dates.

My first flop was in choosing Valentine's Day. I wasn't even really a romantic. Never had been a faithful fervent follower of the day of over-priced flowers, chocolates, jewelry and Hallmark hearts, yet that was the day I thought would be perfect for a wedding. And it was, for the wedding. The marriage? Not so much. It lasted 7 months.

I did take solace in the fact that I hadn't spend years of planning the perfect wedding. Mine was not a dream I had since I was a little girl. Mine was more of a yeah, why not, and let's do it on the perfect date, Valentine's Day, and so what that's less than two months away. I want that date. He'll/I'll never forget it. And I never have, but not in a good way. At least I got an idea for a short story out of it, "The Valentine's Day Curse." If you're a Kindle Unlimited member you can check it out for free.

This commercial was shot the day of my wedding. We couldn't get in on time because they were still shooting it, using my "special day" as backdrop. You think I would have gotten something off the pricy tab. This spot used to run for years and years on the local television channels, especially in the wee hours of the morning. My dear departed cousin JP would always call me when he would see it come on and we would crack up reminiscing about that day...so crazy.



This is their most recent commercial from seven years ago.



They used the same background music for their spot as I did for my Valentine's Day Curse spot...uncanny!


The Valentine's Day Curse

Ok, so that was that special day. The next flop special day also involved a marriage. This time it was an even quicker turn-around, like three weeks. We did have 90 days to get married, but I thought 8-8-88 should be the date to use. He'll/I'll never forget it. 8 is a very lucky number, well, so say the Chinese. Turn those eights on their sides and it's the symbol for eternity. Our love would last forever. That marriage lasted 7 weeks. They have a reality series now on K-1 visa couples, so I probably could get at least a novella out of that failed one.

For the third, and hopefully, final marriage, I chose an ordinary day. It was the quickest decision yet, one week. In my then fiancé's eyes, it was the longest, years before I took the legal leap. But when I thought the time was right, and needed a weekend away in Atlantic City, I agreed to a quickie civil service in Staten Island. After all, it was the closest city hall in New York near the Garden State Parkway, the way to get to AC. Anyway, neither one of us forgets the date, so I guess even though it's ordinary to most folks, it's special to us.

And that brings us to today, to this special day - 12/13/14. I like the ring of it, the sound of it, it feels special, like you're in the middle of a holiday with the anticipation of something beautiful. And just as I typed that this song came on Pandora...Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah.



Beautiful. I think it's a beautiful day to get married too...all the best to those who chose today...hope you have better luck than I did. And if you did, and happen to stumble upon this post, please leave a comment and let us know.

The Ramones Are Gone and I Feel Like Crying

I've been depressed since learning the last remaining original Ramone, Tommy, passed away from cancer at the age of 65. He lived the longest of the four. Three passed away from cancer (wtf is in that Forest Hills air or water?), and one from drugs (would have thought the 75/25% split would have gone the other way around.) The Ramones are gone, and I feel like crying. Sure, I'll shed a tear, or four, for them, but I think I'll be shedding more for myself...for my memories.

When I first heard the Ramones I had recently burst out of the disco days of Bensonhurst, and landed straight into what would be later called punk rock in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It was raw. It was real. And it had four beats we could dance to. And dance I did at every one of their shows. I'm not sure if I've seen Patti Smith more times live, or the Ramones. Either or, it produced the same euphoria. It was the first time in my life I felt as if I belonged somewhere. It was the best time of my life for friendships.

I turned a lot of folks onto the Ramones. Most of them are still friends, even though there are decades of years and hundreds of miles between us. I associate certain songs with certain people in my past. Although I cry more for some of them than others, every one of them will have a place in my heart. Reminiscing makes me sad, yet glad, I have those memories. Thank you Ramones, you have no idea how much your music touched my life. So with much respect and love I will now post a couple of your songs to bring me back home. Ramones, you always were and will always be New York City. I feel so far away from home. Lost youth deserves a tear every once in a while...

The following song reminds me of my brother...I turned him onto The Ramones, and from there...well, let's say, the rest is history. Rather than try to explain here's a link to his website Hardcore Punk Beyond.



Yeah, my cousin JP and I would sing it to him while pogoing all around him wielding an invisible bat. That's what you did to younger siblings in Brooklyn.

Speaking of JP, my partner in crime, my dance partner extraordinaire -- you'd be surprised how the floor opens up to a 6 foot 7 inch guy -- my, my, my, I miss him so much. This is for him...

"Gabba gabba we accept you, we accept you one of us!
Gabba gabba we accept you, we accept you one of us!"



My friend, former guitarist, fellow punk rocker, who was by my side as we were chased with baseball bats while departing the elevated train in Bensonhurst by a couple of zipper heads, just because we were "different", talented artist - Velardi Arts -  and one day will be the subject of a future book of mine - he's a Real New York Story, Johny V. We still speak almost daily, this is his song --Blitzkrieg Bop.



And for someone I do not speak with any more, my first ex-husband, from when he was just my boyfriend -- a much better time, this song reminds me of him...I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend.



For my friend Jane, my female dance partner, who I know longs for those days past...this is our song. Another New Yorker, although living in Long Island sorta diminishes her NY status, only kidding Jane, living in Virginia is far worse! We still are friends. We will always be Sheenas...



For my friend Barbara, who has suffered the pain no mother should ever have to suffer by losing a child, from a time when we only worried about ourselves, for all those crazy nights we wound up in the darkened cavern of her basement...we usually spent the beginning of the night dancing to this, and by the end of the night were, sedated. Sedation has taken on a different meaning now...love this song and this girl. Another forever New York friend...



And me, my song lately...because I just don't.

Roanoke Snow Pictures 2/13/2014

You knew I was going to post some pictures from the recent Roanoke snowstorm...here they are...

The is when the snow first began to fall

It wasn't long before it looked like this. View from my kitchen window

View from the back door

 

The front yard...you can see how high the snow is by the light pole

Frank shoveling...three times the same path! Guess what I'm getting him for his birthday.

Nope, I don't have a garage, just a carport, so my car was safe, but the other three, ummmm, no.

Bella's first snowstorm. My husband had to make a path for her. She loved the snow as you can see from the video below.

And then just like that, it stopped, the sun came out, and began melting it, clumps dropping from the trees. That's one good thing about southern snow...it doesn't last forever like it does up north.

Bella, Queen of the Hill

Halloween Music

Happy Halloween! No parties this year so I thought I would share some of my favorite Halloween-themed songs...enjoy!

Even an iPhone Is Really Just a Phone

Ok, here's the follow up from the last post...so, how do I feel about my iPhone...do I love it? Basically I still feel the same way, a phone is a phone is a phone, unless it's an iPhone in which case it's an expensive phone that could do more than just call people. I'm not gaga googoo like some people get over phones, but I will say this, it has made me more productive and life a wee bit easier. I am totally not addicted to it. I don't carry it around with me from room to room, and unlike what I've witnessed with other folks who have smartphones, it has not become an additional appendage.

A couple of positive points...I was worried about typing on the touch screen. That is not a worry because mainly when I want to send someone a text I speak into the phone and most times, not all times, but most times, the phone will get what I am saying correctly. Now, this is a big deal for someone who has rheumatoid arthritis, so I am very happy with that feature. I also use the microphone to record "notes," like where I parked my car, or whatever. So I like having a "notes" feature on the homescreen. Same thing with email...very easy to check and respond. I like how quickly I connect to the internet, pretty amazing to me after my forever loading Envy. I am now able to check my book sales from my phone and that is cool. It would be cooler if they were larger, but that's not the phone's fault. I can also check Facebook. I did not link to Facebook as I do not want to be notified of everyone's posts, nor have them clog up my contact list as I understand that is what happens when one does sync a smartphone to Facebook. Also my "friends" do not need to know every song I listen to, game I play, or article or read, etc. Haven't even bothered checking Twitter yet. I do like how I can take a picture and post it to Facebook now when I'm out and about which brings me to the camera.

I am not impressed wtih the iPhone camera at all. I thought I would be able to shed my digital one once I got this phone, but nope, not gonna happen. It's okay as long as you don't zoom in, as it only has a digital zoom feature. I like to zoom in. With the recent system upgrade there are a couple more features now with the camera, but nothing to write home about. I do like the video camera, but again I think the quality is lacking. For instance I took these videos the other night at a show...I uploaded the first one regular holding the camera vertical, and the other was shot horizontally and uploaded in hi-def.





The audio is pretty good, but under low light conditions the video is not so great. What I don't like is that since I don't have an Apple computer I cannot see these videos directly on my laptop. I have to upload them to Youtube to see them. I figure it's all part of the Apple plan to assimiliate...you will get an iMac, you will get an iMac!

Some things I'm not crazy about...if I miss a call and hit the screen it automatically dials that number. Not a fan of Face Time either. You have to be "made up" to use a phone? Yeah, no. Battery usage is pathetic. You must charge your phone up every single day, sometimes more than once a day. I'm not used to that. Sometimes I went four days without charging my Envy.

Straight Talk refill is a pain in the ass. You have to go to WalMart and get a card and scrape off the number and enter it on the website. That grew old after one month so I opted in for auto-refill using a credit card. So far, so good. My daughter however, after months of scraping the cards, also opted in using a debit card two weeks ago. Well, just yesterday morning she realized her phone was deactivated! Talk about panic mode. When she went on-line she saw she was no longer in auto-refill, apparently it never took. She tried again, but got denied. When she finally got someone on the phone she could barely understand them, Indian, and they said the bank would not allow the charge. It's Sunday, so no one at the bank. She was freaking out because they never sent her an email or text telling her this, and with Straight Talk if you let your service expire chances are you lose your number rather quickly. Oh, I've gotten many a wrong number and so has my husband and based on all the "hit me up" texts, or "high" texts and barely cohesive speech from the callers when we answer the phone, we think both people who had our phone nubmers before were drug dealers! I also get a recorded call from CVS every other day looking for "Danielle D." I even tracked down the CVS to the one on Main in Salem and explained to them five, yes five freaking times that my number is no longer Danielle D's! They said they would adjust their records, but they haven't. Luckily, I can now block their number and I will if I get one more call from them. Anyway, back to the girl in panic mode who was already late for work after the Indian call. I had to run, literally run to Walmart to pick up a card for her so she could reactivate her phone as the woman said there was a good possibility she would lose her number unless it was reactivated immediately. Now that sucks, maybe not for me so much, as I haven't even given my new number out to many people, but to a young girl who might be waiting for a fellow to call, or whatever, that can be a hardship. Oh, and the funny thing is when you called her number there was a recording from Verizon Wireless saying the number was disconnected. So Straight Talk is Verizon Wireless for less than half the price and twice the inconvenience.

What I really love about this phone are the apps. Of course I'm too cheap to buy any yet, so here is my list of my favorite free apps:

Pandora - Best music app ever. I have the free service one which means about every fourth song or so there is a quick commercial which is fine by me. I love that they not only have stations of music that I like but that I was able to create my own station by plugging in artists. They take that info and then add artists and songs they thing I might like based on my taste. If I do I can give it a "thumbs up" or not, a "thumbs down" and it skips the song and will no longer play it. I've found new artists already such as The Dresden Girls, and how cool is it to hear Tom Verlaine's voice out of nowhere. It amazes me that Pandora really does know my taste.

Scan app -you hold your phone up to a barcode and it scans it and then tells you what the going prices and where you can find the items. This has been a life-saver for me regarding the books. It actually scans the ISBN numbers and tells me where and who are selling the books. When I first used it up in Brooklyn I was naive and freaking out that some of my dad's books were "worth" so much money! Ha! There are folks selling books on Amazon that I swear just make up outrageous prices as every description of the book, no matter what book it is, is the same from certain sellers. I've since learned to disregard those sellers.

Google Maps - way better than the map that comes with the iPhone.

Flashlight - yes, not only does the iPhone serve as a flashlight with this app, but you can increase and decrease the illumination.

Weather Channel - came in very handy driving home during a storm. I was able to see actual real-time radar to determine if we should wait it out at a rest stop. We did and it was correct. Very handy stuff!

Lumosity - it's a smaller version of the brain training game. Every morning I "train" for a couple of minutes and I actually have gotten better. I'm still too cheap to upgrade so I will only get as smart as this version will allow me.

Translator - if you're travelling out of the country or walking on 18th Avenue in Brooklyn you can now read the signs on the shops. Many languages available.

Quick Tip - just what it says, you can set the percentage and even divide the bill up according to how many folks are paying. Since my husband always pays I don't use that.

Solitaire - for when I'm waiting for someone.

News 360 - great news source. Around the world news, and you can choose what type of articles you're interested in.

Sleep Bot - this app monitors your sleep by recording movement and noise. It then creates a chart that shows you where the noise peaked and perhaps can tell you why you are waking up in the middle of the night. If you live in a haunted house this is scary to use. I also think it would be a little better if you could hear the entire recording instead of just a couple of seconds at a time.

Knowledge - another brain game to test my knowledge.

Fruit Ninja - a game where one needs no knowledge.

I check the app store every once in a while to see if there's another free one out that sounds good. If you know of any cool ones, let me know.

So, the bottom line is yes, I like my phone and it's probably worth the cost, but what is definitely worth the cost is the Otter Box. You need to protect a phone that costs more than a laptop, and thus far the $59 investment seems to be worth it. Oh, one strange thing did happen with my phone. On Friday I noticed the time of my phone was 20:00 off. Now that is odd and I have no explanation for that. After I shut it off and started it back up it was right, but that 20:00 defect did make me late for a party...tsk tsk iPhone, you failed.

25 Years Later & in The New Museum

So the other day I get an email from a friend of mine -- "Congratulations! The "Squat or Rot Documentary" will be shown at The New Museum on 8/22." I had no idea what he was talking about. All I know is that a couple of weeks ago, the said documentary, along with a video I put together from a show my friend curated in 1988 called AttackArt, was shown as part of MoRUS first annual film fest. Two and a half years ago, I wrote a post entitled The Year Was 1988 which explains more about the videos. Before its recent stint at MoRUS, that was the first time the videos had been shown in decades.

Anyway, living in the valley of Virginia, I had no idea what MoRUS was, and found out it was the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space located on Avenue C. Well, it seems that MoRUS is now having an exhibit at The New Museum on the Lower East Side Squatting Movement. At first I was annoyed. "Shouldn't I have been asked first???" I'm so out of the NYC loop that I didn't realize The New Museum was not only totally legit, but a pretty big deal.

It took a couple of emails back and forth, but my friend assured me this was a good thing, and nobody was making any money off of it. We have never made a cent off the documentary, and the one time there was admission charged back in 1988, the money went to the homeless. He said it would be really great if I could be there on the 22nd and talk about it in front of the audience. Nothing like giving me some notice. That's impossible, but if it does make the cut and becomes part of The New Museum's film archives, I will definitely check it out. Who would have thought something I helped create 25 years ago would one day wind up in a museum?

I wonder if that's what's going to happen with my writings? Will it take 25 years for my books to finally become best sellers? I figure 25 years from now I'll probably be dead so that's highly likely. After I die, the old chest filled with all my words, words, and more words will be discovered. Someone, probably my daughter, will publish them, alongside what I already have out there, and I will become famous. "She was so far ahead of her time!" Ha! Isn't that the way these things happen?

Here's the AttackArt video and the opening of Squat or Rot.

Bella the Rock Collector

When Bella was a teeny tiny puppy getting up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water or whatever, one would hope not to step into a puddle or a pile. She finally grew out of that, but now one is faced with a new "surprise" thanks to her. Nothing says "WAKE UP!" like stepping on a rock. A rock? Yes, a rock.

It seems Bella has become a rock collector. Where most dogs beg to have a stick thrown, my dog begs to have a rock thrown. She is very persistent and will do a little dance until you fling one. She then searches the entire yard until she finds that one particular rock. When she does she lifts it up and either buries it, or puts it in a pile, after sharpening her teeth on it. She does her business with a rock in her mouth, and when she comes back inside she will bring a rock in with her. She will not come inside without bearing a gift -- a rock, a twig, a branch, a leaf. She must be a Sicilian dog.

I have found rocks in my bed. I have sat on rocks on the couch. Rocks peek out of the the massive hole in her chaise. I have washed rocks in the washing machine. And I have stepped on rocks in the middle of the night. Ouch. She is a quirky little thing. She's lucky she's so cute.

This was her yesterday in the snow. All the rocks and twigs were covered so she couldn't built her pyramid.

Megan Jean & the KFB

It's always exciting when I "discover" a new musical talent that I fall in love with. It's a rare occurrence, and even more rare when the singer is a female. I'm the first to admit I'm jaded when it comes to women singing...there are only a few that I have on my mp3 player (shhh, don't laugh about my mp3 player as I still listen to audio cassettes as well.) Patti Smith, Courtney Love, Billie Holiday & Souxsie Sioux are the chosen ones on my limited capacity player. After my recent purchase of two Cd's, it looks like I'm going to have to delete some songs to make room for "Dead Woman Walking" and "The Devil Herself" by Megan Jean and the KFB.

Facebook finally became useful when it alerted me to a performance on Tuesday evening of Megan Jean at the Roanoke City Library. I had never heard of this husband and wife duet before, but after reading some of the comments decided to Youtube them. I heard this...



Intrigued, and having my Brooklyn cousin -- my musical soul partner -- in town proved to be the perfect storm. We arrived at the library a couple of minutes late. In front of us was a woman strumming with steel fingertips a washboard, keeping beat on a drum with her foot,  whacking the snare with her left hand & marrying them with her stunning vocals. To her right stood her husband picking a beautiful black banjo. And that's it...an orchestra coming from two. It works.

Sorry my pictures suck. The performance reminded me of touring troubadours, gypsies, and a voodoo queen from New Orleans. Although Annie Lenox, Patti Smith, Billie Holiday, Amy Winehouse, and a couple of others were named, my cousin and I couldn't quite determine "who" she sounded like. Herself, I guess. Besides putting on a animated show, I found Megan Jean to be entertaining and likable with her segue stories. They had just arrived in VA after a stint in Florida's gulf coast during Spring Break Week. She joked they were not her target audience. I bet. My cousin and & I were. So much so that after the show I bought both of her Cd's.

She mentioned they will be appearing at Martin's in May. I'm definitely going. They're also be playing FloydFest. That's not my scene, but I know it's popular here, so I recommend anyone going definitely check out what time they'll be playing. Get close to the stage.

Summertime Blues

No matter what I do, I just can't shake 'em...

Happy Birthday Neil Young

Thanks to Facebook I found out today is Neil Young's birthday. From the first moment I heard his voice, I became enchanted. It was in the early '70's, and up until then I was an ardent AM Radio fan. I spent whatever money I would find hidden in the couches on 45's at the local candy store. My prized possession was my friend's record of Peter St. Crispin's "Pied Piper." I would make her play it for me constantly. The day she wedged it in between her carpet and the wall, struck it with a clarinet, and broke it, was the day I began hating her.

After I got a job, and didn't have to scrounge in between the cushions for change, I began to shift away from 45's to full albums. The earliest ones I remember buying were The Beach Boys (from a bargain bin), Bette Midler (loved Fever) and Cat Stevens (he looked hot on the cover). Then somewhere, with someone, I heard Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young. Neil's voice immediately called out to me, and after I heard "Southern Man," I ran out and bought "After the Goldrush."

It was my album, and I didn't have to depend on the kindness of others to hear it, so I played it constantly. It's still my favorite Neil Young album. I was turned onto FM Radio, WNEW-FM, and that was the end of AM bubblegum music for me, so thank you Neil for plunging me into the world of rock 'n roll, and happy birthday!!!

I found this great version of "Helpless" today. Patti Smith does her own version on one of her albums, which I think is fantastic, and much better than her "Smells Like Teen Spirit" one. On this video she, and some other musicians, join Neil. Together they give me goosebumps...

Paranormal Investigation Documentary

My daughter produced, wrote, shot, edited and narrated this ten minute mini documentary on paranormal investigating for her media class. She rocks...



*If you're interested in having a residence or other location investigated for free, contact me directly, NOT "Spirit Watchers!"*

The Year Was 1988

The year was 1988. I still had one more year to go before I could no longer look in the mirror and be able to trust myself. The closer I got to 30 the less I sang, "I hope I die before I get old." I took a page from my ancestors and danced along the rim of a volcano only my Pompeii was the Lower East Side.

There I met and fell in lust, I mean love, with a "famous" Danish author. When he dedicated his most recent published book to me I succumbed to his love letters, poetry, guitar-strumming Lou Reed voice and married him on a whim. Within two months I realized I may have made a huge mistake. He didn't have two Kroner to rub together and he began to put down America. I didn't want to live in Copenhagen, and there was that little language problem. Besides, the bar he set for "fame" was not as high as mine. How famous could one really be if the publisher misspelled your name on the book jacket? Other than the love letters I received I really had no idea how great of a writer he was since the only part of the book I could read was my name in the dedication. When he decided he needed to go on a book tour of Denmark I decided he would do that alone. The annulment was even quicker than the marriage.

I picked up the pieces of shattered marriage number two along with a video camera to help a friend complete her college thesis on the squatter movement in the Lower East Side. Rushing downtown from a good paying job in the upper East Side of Manhattan, I spent many hours in scroungy bars, on the streets, in Tompkins Square Park, questionable art galleries and abandoned buildings, aka squats. I once rescued a friend from crashing three stories down when her leg fell through a flimsy rotted- out floor as she videotaped. I've dodged getting pounded by the flailing arms and legs of exuberant punks as they moshed in the dance pits while I taped bands. I spent hours, days, weeks, months editing on 3/4" tape a documentary on squatters, a montage from an art gallery show entitled Attack Art and an early punk music video for a band called Public Nuisance. Editing was different than. We went machine to machine. When you wanted to change a shot, if it didn't fit exactly in the same time frame, you'd either have to lose a generation of quality or start from scratch. I watch in amazement my daughter edit on the computer. Move this, take that out, add this, add natural sound, music, voice-over, titles? No problem. It's almost too easy.

Anyway, the documentary was shown again two years ago up in NYC during another art show my friend curated commemorating the 20th anniversary of the Tompkins Square riots. The gallery was broken into, many pieces of art, along with the dvd player which had my documentary in it, was stolen. I cannot find my copy of it. Luckily the Attack Art video and Public Nuisance video survived only because someone posted it on YouTube. It's primitive by today's standards but in the mid-eighties it was cutting edge. Here it is...



What were you doing in 1988?