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Music to Live By

2012, March 4 by booknurd

Like so many other people across the eons, Music has been a huge part of my development into the adult I am.  As a small child, every Saturday morning, after breakfast, Grandma put the stack of LPs on that big stereo that was a piece of furniture.  Some of you remember them, wooden, long, almost like a side board for the living room. Her tastes were as eclectic as mine are today.  The selection would include, Ray Charles, The Statler Brothers, Tammy Wynette, Elvis, George Jones, The Temptations, Liberace, Slim Whitman, some polka album she loved, etc.  I think to this day, Grandma is the reason I can’t clean without music pouring out of the house.  Obviously as I grew older, I began to make my own musical decisions. Grandma never, ever censored what we listened to, watched on television, movies we saw.  She would explain to us anything we had questions about.  Along with Grandma, I had my aunt, my mom and my best friend’s sister as musical influences.  They all listened to such variety. Between all of them, and the radio and my friends, I learned to love The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, KISS, Aerosmith, AC/DC. Loretta Lynn.  It runs the gambit.

As a small, small girl,  like 4 and 5, my favorite singers were Charlie Rich and Tom T. Hall. Charlie Rich was my all-time favorite.  “The Most Beautiful Girl” and “Behind Closed Doors” were always played for me at my request.  Of course, I had NO idea what “Behind Closed Doors” was really about, but I loved The Silver Fox, and so it didn’t really matter. We weren’t really allowed to park in front of the TV too much with Grandma, but we did get to watch Hee Haw. I can remember see Charlie perform on there.Tom T. Hall had an album “Tom T. Hall Sings for Kids”.  It had those songs “I Love” and “Sneaky Snake” on it. Grandma would play that album for me all the time.  It often made it in the Saturday morning stack.

Obviously by middle and high school, I had been exposed to hundreds of songs and bands. I have always had a different drummer to march to, so as much as liking mainstream music, I often went against the grain, and there ain’t no shame in my game.  Yes, I love bands like N*Sync and performers like Nelly, but I also like the Violent Femmes, The Clash, KISS, Metallica etc.

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Of all the music I have been exposed to, bought, downloaded, seen live, loved and hated, it’s almost impossible to pick out favorites because songs mean different things to you at different times, and sometimes, it’s just music for fun.  In March of 1987, I turned 18. That year, I had come to love Beastie Boys, much to the disdain of my best friends, until I just forced them to listen so often they caved in to the awesomeness.  There weren’t many preppy white kids at Dreher loving hip hop and rap, but I grew up in a multicultural neighborhood and was around black kids and white kids alike, so as my black friends were discovering rap and hip hop, I went along for the ride.  Beastie Boys “License to Ill” is still one of my top ten albums of all time.  But it wasn’t Mike D or Jam Master J who was invading my brain, heart, soul, bones.  It was as band I had been listening to for years, thanks to WUSC and MTV’s 120 minutes. That March, Bono, The Edge, Larry, and Adam moved in to my being, and never left. My best friend bought me the cassette “The Joshua Tree” for my birthday, and I was done.  From the first listen to that album, every song resonated with me in some way.  Even now, some songs can get me choked up, make me want to dance, laugh, get angry.  “With or Without You” got me through a broken teenaged heart. “Trip Through Your Wires” helped me realize yes, broken hearts are survivable. “Where the Streets Have No Name” made me want to explore my own small world and stretch it like a canvas.  I have owned dozens of copies of the cassette and CD because I have played the different  copies so often, they’ve needed to be replaced.  I will never change the radio station if one the songs on this album comes on.  I have heard Bono sing those songs to me in person, knowing that he IS singing them just for me while The Edge mesmerizes me with his guitar.

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The only other album that has come close to this level of intense connection for me is Pearl Jam’s first album, Ten.  I obtained a promo copy of this album from my friend and neighbor in college, Rob.  He wanted some sweatshirt I had, so we bartered.  I gave him a lime green champion sweatshirt for the CD that revolutionized my senior year in college. from the first note that came out of my shitty stereo, I fell in love.  Head over Heels in love.  Those grunge boys had nothing on Kurt and his crew, as far as I was concerned.  I loved Nirvana, but I absorbed Pearl Jam.  Again, another album that ANY song can take me back to that senior year.  My college boyfriend broke up with me and pulverized my heart that spring.  “Black”, “Oceans”, “Why Go” and “Alive” nursed me back to some semblance of sanity so that I was able to survive that once in a life time event, the moment your first love breaks your heart and leaves you stunned.  I could be angry and rock out “Evenflow”, “Porch” or “Deep” and just be loud and crunchy – Oh stone and Mike with those guitars.

No two albums will ever replace these as the albums that shaped my life and attitudes about so much.  I often wish my life was “The Kentucky Fried Movie” so I could have my own personal soundtrack as I moved from highs to lows, successes and defeats, boredom and excitement.  These albums would have a starring role.

Posted in crazy world, Family, friends, Random Stuff, relationships and romance, THE HOBB, Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »

My Day Care Center

2012, March 4 by booknurd

Growing up, we were pretty poor.  I didn’t really notice it so much because Grandma always made sure we had great Christmases and Birthdays.  I did know we didn’t have a car, but I just chalked it up to “Grandma doesn’t like to drive”.  She was a child of The Depression, a woman of a young marriage and divorce, two unruly, heathen children and as a result had learned to be crafty in her solutions to tricky situations.

When I was a little kid, several factors left me and my little sister unsupervised from about 2:30 to 4:30.  When I was ten, we moved from the Earlwood Park Area to the Melrose Heights area. We continued to go to McCants Elementary School (the best school I ever attended) because I wanted to finish up there.  It went to 6th grade and I was at the end of my 5th grade year.  We would get up before early and take a city bus downtown, transfer and then take another bus to McCants.  After school, we would need to repeat the process.  Mind you, this was in 1979, and the gentrification of the Heights hadn’t begun yet.  We lived on the last block of King Street, right down from many drug dealers and bootleggers.

Grandma didn’t really want us going home alone, and she certainly couldn’t afford someone to watch us. As a result of all these circumstances, Kelli and I took the bus downtown, but instead of transferring to the next bus, we went to Richland County Public LIbrary on the corner of Sumter and Washington streets. That was my day care center.  I knew every inch of that library.  I would wander around the art section on the second floor near the Children’s Room.  When I was tired of that, I would go look through thousands of albums.  I wandered from floor to floor, following Dewey, enjoying the smell and feel of the books.  All of the workers at the library knew us.  We were well-behaved and obviously we appreciated the books.  More importantly, we respected the sanctity of The Library.  Always easily bored, but eager to learn new things, and never shy, I befriended the women who worked in the children’s area.  Eventually, they taught me to check out books using a crazy machine that took a picture of your library card, a white paper card similar to a bi-fold business card with the map of Richland County that was represented in metal sculpture on the wall outside of the library and now resides in the new library on Assembly street, and a picture of the book from the back of the book.  They let me shelve books because I did a good job at it.  It was very important to me that books be in order and in the correct areas. I would help other little kids find books they liked.  I adored every minute of it.  I loved learning how to use the card catalog, which I can still do very well, and taught many classmates over the years how to use.

At a certain time, Kelli and I would go across the street to meet Grandma at the bus stop to go home.  I was safe every day and learned an immense amount of useful knowledge and skills.  My love of books continued to grow. My grandmother barely had a high school education, but she was had  love of books that she passed on to every one of her children and grandchildren.  No matter what our shortcomings, insanities, poor choices and mislead lives, we all had and have a love of reading and books that is nearly an obsession for some of us (me).

We only did that until I started 7th grade and walked to Hand.  I loved that year and a half spent in the stacks on Sumter Street.  It’s one of my favorite memories of being a child.  The only card I have loved as much as my first library card is my first voter’s registration card.

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Posted in Education, Family, Random Stuff, reading and writing, teaching, THE HOBB, Uncategorized | 6 Comments »

Been there, done that

2012, February 27 by booknurd

Have I written about this before?  If I have, it’s pretty fitting.  I am not pleased with the rampant “re makes” of recent years.  Miami Vice – sucked.  Charlie’s Angels, Dukes of Hazard, etc. For all the damned money Hollywood rakes in, they could at the VERY least offer us up something original for television and movies.  I will conceded that the new Hawaii Five-O is good, but I was hesitant.  I think what makes it good is they didn’t try to recreate the entire show and cast.  They fed off of the old show and just rejuvenated it.  Good cast, interesting story lines, etc.  I also enjoy Star Trek, but I wasn’t a huge Trekkie to begin with.  I just think there are lots of brilliant people working in “the industry” so we should be getting some brilliant programming, not some cheesy repeats.

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Sleeping is for Sissies

2012, February 26 by booknurd

I have never slept.  Even as a little tiny kid.  The earliest I remember not being able to fall asleep was probably around 4 years old. (My earliest memory I can remember back to when I was 2 and this family had a wreck in front of our house when it was icy and snowing.  We had just been outside making a tiny snow man to put in the freezer).  When I was 4 and 5, I would sneak out of bed and hide under the table in our dining room to watch television while Gramma and my mom or aunt were in the living room. Where the table was, I had a perfect view of tv.  I never fell asleep under there. I would lie on the floor and watch until I got tired, then I would tiptoe back in to my room. Our house was like a big circle so I would sometimes have to go through the bathroom and another bed room to get to the dining room.

If I didn’t go loll around under the table, I would just lay in bed and day dream or tell my self stories.  As I got older and my sister and cousin was there with me, I would talk to them and keep them awake, but they weren’t night owls like I was. Eventually, they would fall asleep, and I would be on my own. I can remember being awake in bed tossing and turning while everyone was asleep, adults and kids.  When I was really little it was sort of scary, but as I got older, I was used to it.

When I was around 8 or 9, Gramma decided to humor me.  She told me I could get up after Kelli went to sleep. She was hoping if I was being quiet trying to get Kelli to sleep, I would fall asleep, too.  It didn’t work.  I would try to get Kelli to count, say her alphabet, whatever, play the quiet game.  Finally, when Kelli fell asleep I could get up and read until I was tired.  That was the best.  Once I learned to read I didn’t mind not sleeping anymore.  I could read all night, sleep a couple of hours, get up and go to school.  I would read until I was tired and then go to bed.  I was never a problem to wake up and get ready.  I would actually usually wake up before everyone else, too, and get them up for work and school.

As I got older, it wasn’t scary to be awake when everyone else was asleep. I would get up and check the doors and look outside to see if it was raining or if there was anyone out there.

Insomnia served me well in college when I would need to pull all-nighters to finish up papers or study for tests.  Now, as an adult, I still have insomnia.  I know that it is bad for you to never sleep.  I know I should probably sleep more.  I know that there are pills that could probably help me sleep more.  There is just too much to do in one day to sleep, even if it is just grading papers and watching tv.

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Reading will save your life.

2012, February 25 by booknurd

OK, I have been pretty open about the whole “I’m going to try to the online dating thing”.  In December, I filled out a profile for OK Cupid.  I have actually had some pretty decent success on this one.  I’ve gone on a few dates.  I do have a couple of complaints (of course).  It specifically states in my profile that I am looking for a LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP.  So why then, do these guys who just want to get laid have a casual affair continue to contact me? PLEASE READ!!!  Also, in a similar vein.  why do you guys have long term relationship as one of the things you’re looking for when clearly you’re not looking past how to get me out of my panties.

Unfortunately for me, I am at an age where most of the men I am meeting have been married and divorced and are bitter about love and relationships again.  Thanks bitchy, cheating women for making my life difficult.  Granted, I CAN be a bitch, but I have never cheated one someone, so why should I have to suffer?  Most of the guys I meet are ready to be a 20 something bachelor again, whereas I am ready to finally settle down and get married. I’ve even gone out with guys I would normally say no to.  I’ll keep trying I guess.

Being a Finney Girl is a hard task.

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Moving in Place

2012, February 25 by booknurd

Sometimes, I have a dream about you, and it just rips me back twenty years. My heart breaks all over again. You used to say I would be the one to leave first, but I told you it would be you. I knew I would love you through everything, and I would have.  I might still. Some days I am pretty sure I’m over it, but other days I am sure there will always be the lion’s share of my heart that still has your initials carved in it.  Those out of the blue dreams are always so bittersweet. They are always so sweet and innocent, so real. Then I wake up and remember that it hasn’t been that way in decades.

I wish I could be more resolute when I sleep, more determined to keep you out of that vulnerable zone.  I don’t even think I want the you of today.  I think I want the us of yesterday.  I’m no romantic fool.  I don’t pine for you, but I do think I miss what we could have had. I do know that I have never in my life loved someone the same way, so openly, so completely.  I think I have managed to guard against that heartbreak again.  I try to lower that shield sometimes, but it always ends up in a disappointment, but disappointment is far easier to overcome than heartbreak.

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You can read my old dating blog here. I got tired of it.

2012, February 15 by booknurd

http://nittygrittydating.wordpress.com/

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Am I?

2011, October 1 by booknurd

I am a girl born in “The South”.  I speak with an accent, thanks to 4 years of college with my best friend, Amy Jo (yes, that’s her real name). Growing up I heard, “Where are you from? You talk fuuunny?”  My response, “I talk like the rest of my family, YOU talk funny.” I did develop a twang, but even now, it’s not as bad as some of my friends.  I don’t know that I would call myself a true “Southern Girl”, as there are many qualities of such that I don’t possess.

First of all, and the main reason for revocation of my Southern Girl membership, I do NOT like grits.  I not only don’t like them; I HATE them. I would have to be starving for days to even consider eating them, and even then I’d probably wait another day or two.   I was the sort of child (and the same sort of adult) who I would NOT eat something I didn’t like.  If I don’t like it, that’s all there is to it.  I have gone hungry and thirsty more than once because something I didn’t care for was served at a meal.

The second reason and one the largest number of people find most abhorrent and unacceptable: I don’t drink sweet tea or as it is also known, sugar tea.  I never have drank and never will.  It tastes like drinking syrup. I prefer mine strong, unsweetened, lots of ice and NO lemon, thankyouverymuch.

Now, most people are aware that girls in The South grow up on football.  I was raised by a group of women from Indiana, so I was raised up on basketball.  I hate football, and all things football-related, except tail-gaiting; that is ONE southern trait I DO possess, the love of a good party! I don’t care who wins, loses, who is ranked,etc.  I live in a VERY college football oriented town, so it is everywhere! I do like home game days because the stores are little more empty, and I can find a good parking spot.

I can’t fry chicken or make white gravy.

I do have some Southern Girl traits, but I think not enough to make me full-fledged, which I could never be anyway, because my generation of the family is the first born in The South, so I wouldn’t qualify regardless. I can plant a seed in a man’s mind, and he’ll think he came up with it on his own.  I know how to bait a hook, skin a catfish; I’ve sat in a deer stand, bored to tears mind you.  I’ve checked trot lines.  I’ve caught lightning bugs.  I know a little bit about a car, and I can recognize a nice outboard motor.  I love the lowcountry of South Carolina and would claim it over any other place on the planet as home. I’m not blond haired or blue eyed.  I never went to my own débutante ball, but I did accompany a young man to his dilettante ball.  I know how to take the sting out of a fire ant bite or a bee sting.

I’m not a full-fledged Hoosier, and I can’t count my relatives back to The Original 13 Colonies.  I’m just like the majority of the country, a mutt created from an immigrant Irish grandfather and a grandmother with English bloodlines, my mother was created from them and I was created from her and a Cherokee father.  I think I’m doing okay without my pedigree.

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Check Yes or No

2011, September 30 by booknurd

I have been on Facebook for a while now.  Since then, I have learned that several guys I went to high school and college with always wanted to ask me out but didn’t! At first, I was thinking, “Damn!  If you guys had stepped up, I wouldn’t have been dateless all through high school!”  Okay, It wasn’t that serious. I did have dates, but the  guys who have fessed up to me were definitely guys I would have gone out with, at least once.  I am not uppity, nor do I think I’m some goddess in flip flops. I AM picky, but mainly I’m picky in that I won’t date drug addicts, men who look like hobbits, trolls or ewoks, men who act like assholes to servers, old people or children, men who are not too bright, and men who take the world and themselves far too seriously.  Besides, I went to school with some pretty awesome guys, who I would have dated, except for a couple.

The men in college (and I use the term “men” loosely considering we were 18 to 22) didn’t stand a chance. I was completely in love.  I did have guys man up and ask me out, tell me to dump Bryan, date them, etc. It didn’t work, I was smitten and no cute hippie boy could sway me.  I wonder how my life would be different if I had said yes to Scott, Jeff or Craig (who is a doctor and was completely in love with me), but I don’t regret my decisions. The only regrets I do have don’t involve my love life at all.

After I thought about it, I realized those scaredy cat high school boys weren’t to blame. It’s hard enough to ask a girl out, but a girl who is full of confidence, realizes her own potential and future greatness? It would be easier to run naked through a football game. I have always been brazen and opinionated, not always top qualifications for a girl growing up in SC who was a little odd to begin with.  I should have made it easier for them but not seeming like a friend or a buddy. I was a flirt, but I was an equal opportunity flirt.  Bryan often commented on that, but he didn’t mind.  He understood that was just my way.  I also think that as amazing as this might seem to someone who doesn’t know me, I was a little scared myself.  I was scared for different reasons though.  I didn’t want to grow up and make mistakes my mother had made.  I WAS going to college, and I WAS NOT going to get knocked up in high school.  I kept boys at arm’s length oftentimes.  However, even now, if I set my sites on you.  You’re pretty much doomed. It’s rare that I don’t “get my man”

Now, I’m 42, never married and still not much of a dater,and I’m okay with that, because I suck at it.  I’m good at relationships, but I feel so awkward on dates.  This is probably why most of the guys I have dated were guys I was already friends with.

I wonder if any 25 years when I’m sixty, some old friend is going to come u to me at funeral or an bird buffet and tell me he always wanted to ask me out, but didn’t.  It reminds me of our friend Margie who passed away a couple of years ago.  This older man who no one knew was at her funeral and when her sister asked who he was, he told her that he had gone to college with Margie.  He said he had always been  in love with her but was too afraid of rejection to tell her how he felt. How sad for both of them.  Imagine the life they could have had? If he never married and loved her without being with her, imagine how much love they would have shared had he made that move.

So what Facebook has taught me is to Go for it.  Whether I will follow through, I will have to wait and see.

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THE HOBB in a Box

2011, July 7 by booknurd

When my grandmother, the one constant in my life, died almost four years ago, she was cremated.  Her “cremains” were basically divided between me, my aunt, my sister, my sister-out-law and a plastic bag, with me getting the bulk of them. I keep her ashes in a walnut box designed for such purpose.  It has THE HOBB engraved on top. There is a plastic container which holds her ashes safely in the box. Around the edges of the box there is some space.  Whenever I find things that remind me of her, or belonged to her, that are small, I place them in the box with her. When her cat, Higgins, passed away, I put his collar in the box.  I have a lock of hair I cut off of her head the last time I cut it. If I find random coins, they go in there because she always wanted my change.  There are other little random things I find and stick in their. Today, I received a quarter, with Gettysburg on the back.  I put that in there, too.  That was our favorite vacation together.

I miss her every single day, but little things like this make me feel closer to her.

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