Sometimes it’s the little people who know best, as demonstrated earlier this afternoon on the Australian Federal Election 2016.
7 year old: What happens if they both get the same amount of votes?
Me: That’s called a hung parliament.
7 year old: Does that mean they do Paper, Scissors, Rock?
Despite Reo Speedwagon’s song Keep On Loving You being 36 years old and an all-time favourite, I have just watched the video clip for the first time. Really, really wish I hadn’t done that.
I have loved this song for a very long time. It’s a love ballad that’s JUST rock enough to save its ass from mushy. There’s the dramatic keyboard intro, a pleading guitar solo in the middle and intensity building vocals that climax in a fabulous you … woo…ooooh to finish it off. Slightly odd lyrics including something about stealing a dress left coiled up and hissing. What’s not to keep on loving? It is ballad perfection in true 80’s style that has remained a classic.
The video clip – not so much. It has not stood the test of time. I think I may have been expecting Rick Springfield as the lead singer for a start. Kevin, that permed HAIR! I could forgive your pink suit jacket and shirt in the concert footage but I am slightly disturbed by your fantasy dream sequence. A sexy lady (who turns out to be your Psychiatrist) is huddled on the floor of a bare room with your tuxedo clad bandmates sitting on the couch playing dominoes. One of them removes her mink coat to leave her lolling around in a pink negligee and gold heels, while the guy with the frightening mullet is lurking in the background with what seems to be a large shot glass of Absinthe.
Video Killed The Radio Star
My eyes! My eyes! And to think this was one of the video clips played on the first ever episode of MTV. It’s a small miracle that anyone watched a second episode. You could have been responsible for the destruction of the greatest music programme since Countdown. I could have gone a lifetime without seeing that clip Kevin. It will take considerable effort to block those images from my mind if I am to remain true to your beautiful lyrics…
And I meant…every word I said,
When I said that I’d love you,
I meant that I’d love you forever.
– Keep On Loving You – Reo Speedwagon
Sometimes a song finds you.
I was listening to talkback radio in the car when I heard Luke Peacock tell his story. He’d been working at a radio station sorting through archived material when he came across an album called The Loner. It grabbed hold of him and wouldn’t let him go until he’d uncovered the lost history of the singer/ songwriter behind it, Vic Simms. An album Vic had recorded in one hour in 1973, whilst a resident of an Australian prison. One hour.
The Loner – rereleased 40 years later in 2013
A friendship gradually developed between Luke and Vic, culminating in the release of a reworked collaboration of the album in 2014 – The Painted Ladies Play Selections From The Loner. The story intrigued me and the songs grabbed hold of me too. Especially Get Back Into Shadows. Joyful, upbeat music with lyrics that shine a light on our not so joyful past. One man’s story. One hour. One lifetime.
One song that found me and led me to an album that will stay with me forever.
He said if you’re, if you’re brown, stick around
But if you’re white, he said it’s alright
But if you’re black, yeah you get back…into the shadows
– Get Back Into The Shadows, Vic Simms
Seeking some immediate creativity immersion, I am giving the A to Z Challenge a whirl. Having only just discovered it, I’m a little behind, missed some deadline about selecting a theme and despite reading the instructions multiple times, remain confused about how to link myself up. Whatever that means.
So my unauthorised theme is music related. I’ll post daily (bar Sunday’s, the day of rest for all good challenges) with ramblings of a musical theme. So in the words of a great music man in an Akubra hat – do yourself a favour. Read, comment, enjoy.
Are we there yet?
Despite being almost three months behind the eight ball, I’m determined to put some effort into this years project of change. I’m not the only one. I have a friend who announced she was having a “Year of Me” this year. Sounds wanky I know (I promise not to use the word “journey” at any stage throughout this…time of travelling from one area to another) however she actually deserves a year of her. I have other friends who are in their fourth consecutive “Decade of Me” celebrations. A year I can handle.
There truly is something about hitting the midlife mark that smacks you in the face with a big paddle that reads – YOU ARE SERIOUSLY RUNNING OUT OF TIME LADY. People you love die. They just off and go and then…they’re not there anymore. Even when you had a vague idea it was coming because they were almost 100 years old and Human Biology was one of few classes you didn’t wag in high school…it still comes as an enormous shock.
I used to chuckle to myself on the freeway if I passed some guy driving a red sports car with the rag top down (so his hair can blow) because he inevitably had no hair and was no Tom Selleck but rather a bald, middle-aged man. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
You want hair baby? I got hair!
Now that I’m a fat middle-aged lady with greying hair, I completely understand this man. He’s not being vain or fantasising that all the young ladies in their Hondas may mistake him for Channing or one of those hard-chested Helmsworth brothers. The reality is, half his extended family have dropped dead, he attends more funerals than weddings and he’s been whacked across the back of his bald head with the YOU ARE SERIOUSLY RUNNING OUT OF TIME GEEZER stick. Buy that car buddy, they aren’t for sale in the afterlife.
Call me a slow learner but it’s taken me half a lifetime to work out that you only get a limited crack at this life business. So it’s time for a lifestyle overhaul consisting of various attempts to not die prematurely and crossing some stuff off my “Shit To Get Done Before I Die” List. Very challenging for someone who has trouble grasping that some form of preparation is required EVERY single day for that weird occasion that rolls around about 6pm when people get hungry. Or hangry.
I’ll do my best not to go too Oprah but here are my Top Ten ideas for the Winds of Change Project that you can eagerly anticipate reading about as this blog is born and blossoms.
Hope you can join in along the way.
I’m off to a fab start, finessing my messy life at the start of the new year…in February*. Which shall henceforth be known as Fabyouary. Not to be confused with Fannuary in any way, shape or form. We all know the bush is back.
Embed from Getty Images
Let’s take stock. It’s Fabyouary and I am forty, fat and frustrated. Midlife crisis? Quite possibly. Peri menopausal madness? Potentially. Woman gone wobbly? For sure. I’m a donkey on the edge. It’s the slow creep of inevitable death that pushes you into this mindset. Waking up suddenly and realising that half your life has dribbled down the drain while you were looking out the bathroom window. And that everything you thought you knew about yourself is complete horseshit.
So Fabyouary is about going all George Costanza and doing the opposite of what I’d normally do. Drive my own bus, give up giving a shit, wake up early, catch the worm, find my inner core and then don’t lose it under a pile of paperwork on the floor.
From chaos to creativity. Here we come.
*Well, it was February when I wrote this. Clearly more finessing required.
Ahh..the first post is always the hardest. All that pressure to explain why you’re here, what your blog is about, what your niche is, what your original, fascinating, never-seen- before-in-this-lifetime theme is. You know, what do you…like, stand for?? Um….
I really don’t know. I have a lot of confusion in that department. All I know is a while back, I started a wee blog for a fundraising project and I loved it. I obsessed about it, sat up after midnight trying to make it perfect and select the perfect (yet royalty free) image to go with each post. Probably neglected most of the rest of my life whilst I was at it, all that unimportant stuff like eating, child rearing, housework, paid employment.
After my wee blog had died a natural death, I went on a major holiday to the opposite end of the earth, by MYSELF, to meet a girlfriend and sleep in until 7am IN THE MORNING. EVERY morning. Whilst I was there, a comment came through on my very last post and it filled me with joy. Just some random person out there in the world, who connected with a memory I had shared, someone who had literally been there too and shared that same little moment. That’s the best I can do at explaining why I’m here.
She Doesn't Wear Her Shoes... 