How I Blogged

Where shall I begin? (You can sing that, if you like ... . I never saw the movie.)

The short answer is that I spent hours -- chunks of days and even weeks, in some cases -- ruling out what I would eventually write.

Then, I would just open up the blog's Rich text editor, and just start typing. I'd go back later and cut out a lot of redundant words and phrases (like 'just') or add a sentence or two when I felt more explanation was warranted (as I 'just' did.)

With prompting from a then-commenter on LJ, I learned to do what I'm doing now -- spacing double between paragraphs, single within, and keeping to roughly one sentence or two short ones per paragraph.

The sentence-per-graph (as we used to call them when I was in the biz) rule I learned as a "journal" (my tongue-in-cheek name for what we weren't). You had to write that way, or the editor on the desk would spend his or her valuable time doing it for you (and making sure you tasted 'assignment pain' if you did it again). As I tried to indicate just now, I began by using ' ' for all quotations, unless I was using a book title. Then, I got worried that maybe somebody would 'get' me if I actually quoted something and did not use the double-apostophes for "quote" marks. Then, I got really inconsistent with it. Then, I started reposting (re-posting) everything and got more consistent.

See how hard big paragraphs are to read online (on line, on-line, on the internet, Internet, 'interwebs')?

See how irritating inconsistent style usage is?

OK, do the single-sentence-consistent-style thing I just taught you, check your spelling yourself, then double-check all your facts from now on and you're a 'journal"!! (Yes, the quote marks are a joke.)

Double-check them with two independent sources, and you're Woodward and Bernstein.

Wow!! And you didn't even need to mail me ten cents! With a 28-cent stamp!

There's more to it than that. You'll need to buy yourself an Associated Press Stylebook and read the chapter on libel for the rest. I won't cheat you on the privilege.

Back when I was one, I was famous locally for being able to write hard-to-write stories really fast. I, shortly after achieving that fame, found out for myself what "assignment Hell" was (or hell, or Hello, or Hellabad, or hellabad or ... .).

The "ellipsis trick" I learned from a well-known writer on spirituality, who was better at it than I am or was or ever will be. I learned ironic titles from two things -- the punning titles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVD chapters, and my own outline titles for the outlines I used to write in college after I wrote the paper, for professors I thought could handle joke subhead titles on papers with outlines obviously written after the fact.

I was a stickler for what I'll call "Punctuated Stream of Consciousness" in the beginning, but I learned soon after what to check beforehand and what to leave to a "correction" post. Sometimes I got this right, sometimes wrong. I learned to handle being wrong in broadcasting. Over 18 years, I was wrong a lot.

Does this help? I don't know. And right now, I don't care, either.*

Good luck.

___
*Obviously, I do care, or I wouldn't have left this up. I have also left up some other posts from LJ but have now re-posted everything I wrote on the old LJ blog account usernamed mercurius_21, with additional posts I made in 2011 and more I wrote starting in 2012 to a backup on WordPress, on a new site here:

https://sites.google.com/view/inourselves/home

"...in the dark."

I remember watching the Tony Awards one night in '82. I was astonished -- "That's the 'Eight is Enough' woman!" thought I, suddenly 14 years old.

---

Her name was (and is) Betty Buckley. In the late 1970s, she was a television actress as American as mom and apple pie who starred in a show to match.

But there she was in cat makeup and clad in skin-tight material I later found out was called Spandex -- with a fuzzy tail emerging from where tails normally emerge from.

I had no idea the Eight is Enough lady had a "bod" anything like what was evident that night on my little nine-inch black and white TV screen.

I also had no idea the Eight is Enough lady could sing like that -- wide open, no mic, real Broadway, pitch-perfect -- and that she could sing Mahler.

Huh?

To my untrained ear, Andrew Lloyd Webber owes ol' Gustav big time. (Too bad Gustav is not in a position to collect.)

What I mean by that is, Lloyd Webber wrote a lot of his Big Broadway songs (Cats, Phantom, Evita etc.) in keys no one else but Mahler would use. Strange, eerie minor keys rolling in and out of other strange, eerie minor keys -- and ending in what I understand is Lloyd Webber's favorite major key -- D flat major. Wiki says the flats outnumber the naturals in that one.

In other words, not your basic B flat songwriter. (Somewhere along the line, someone told me that B flat was the most popular key for songs. I think it was a college chum's roommate who played trumpet in the UNC band.)

I recall now the controversy over Ms. Buckley's costume for her role as Grizzelda* in "Cats" -- the body-hugging number* that told us a lot about Betty then was said to be a far cry from the frumpy costume for that character in the original UK production of the musical.

Now that we have YouTube, what the UK critics said then of the difference between the two productions is obvious. You can barely tell it's Elaine Page under all that wardrobe and makeup.

Why am I rolling on like this?

The folks who produce modern reality shows on either side of the pond have every reason to know how hard it is for amateurs to sing "Memory" from "Cats." Especially on live television.

You don't even have to be some hot-shot TV producer to know -- anyone would who listened to any one of the thousands of amateur and semi-pro (think piano bar) singers who made their stabs at "Memory" back when it was current. Those attempts collectively became a running joke (as I recall) on mid-80's Saturday Night Live and other comedy shows.

My point? I think someone somewhere should be ashamed of themselves.

I also wish Susan Boyle the best. She did quite well with the song. Any (perceived) mistakes were not her fault.

BTW, if you want to check out some Mahler, try Symphony No. 4 and "Song of the Earth" (Das Lied von der Erde). Frederica von Stade is a fave.

(Afternote: As usual, I find out later that my memory is a little cracked, after I've posted. The Tony show I'm recalling was in 1983. Grizabella is the name of the role, not whatever my memory coughed up, and Ms. Buckley's costume was not quite as I described in recollection. Her 'coat' section was loose-fitting, and only the leggings were skin-tight, though barely visible. I must have 'morphed' the visual part of my recollection of her performance with that of the opening dance number from "Cats" also featured on the show that night, where the other performers, male and female, were in nothing but Spandex and cat makeup. Thanks to YouTube entries and IBDB for the correct info.)

Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 3, 2009

Across the Great Divide

The year was 1985. I was working as a clerk in a record store -- yes, I am a dinosaur.

---

The young women -- one being the manager of the store and the other the one who knew Black Flag personally I've posted about before* -- working with me that Saturday morning appeared to be hung over. They were certainly "bummed" at having to work Saturday morning. They wanted to hear 'their' records on Saturday morning, as opposed to the 'hair band' stuff required to be played on the store's stereo (remember, I am a dinosaur) during peak business hours.

Yet, we had to take turns going to the turntable to change the LP on the in-store system (I am a Brontosaur -- harmless), and my turn came. I was told by the previous manager to always survey the store's customers and put on an LP I thought they might like to buy. All three customers that morning were women in their mid-30s browsing the country music section. And they all had an "I don't like what I'm seeing here" look on their faces.

I strode to the turntable and put on a new LP I was sure they had not heard. We had stocked it only the day before, and I had previewed the pre-release demo earlier at home -- having brought the copy back to work with me that morning.

It was Reba McEntire's Whoever's in New England*. Within 20 minutes, we sold five copies. Yes, two of the women bought two each (LP and cassette -- yes, I am a Brontosaur watching a big meteor coming at me).

But two minutes into the LP, I thought my two coworkers were going to grab case cutters and kill me. Literally. Then and there. Fortunately, one of the customers by then had begun marching to the cash register (yes, the meteor is getting closer. it's really big), and that saved me.

Here is my list of my country faves of the 1980s.

"Somebody Should Leave" by Reba McEntire

"Seven Year Ache"' by Roseanne Cash

"Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses" by Kathy Mattea

"Don't Close Your Eyes" by Keith Whitley

"Somewhere Tonight" by Highway 101

"Streets of Bakersfield" by Dwight Yoakum and Buck Owens

"Don't Toss Us Away" by Lone Justice (featuring Maria McKee)

"Arlene" by Marty Stewart

albums for special mention

Sweethearts of the Rodeo by Sweethearts of the Rodeo

One Fair Summer Evening by Nanci Griffith

Diamonds and Dirt by Rodney Crowell

The Reba McEntire song I'm listing is not on Whoever's in New England*. However, that album is also one I would propose for special mention. It was a lifesaver.**

Originally posted to LiveJournal on May 5, 2009

___

*The 'Girl Who Knew Black Flag Personally' was first referenced an untitled post now in the Nov. 7, 2011 archive here. Also, the Reba McEntire album was actually titled Have I Got a Deal for You. 
**A few days later I posted this: "I've been looking over my lists of country music favorites, partly wondering what prompted the whole thing. I'm still not sure, though the way the titles seem to fit together, in some cases, was completely unintentional and, in a way, kind of scary (asks self timidly "How did I do that?"). So let me advise any who may wish to visit their favorite music download site and listen to them all: be careful. Too heavy a dose of honest-to-country torch and twang will cut through your emotional defenses like a buzzsaw through longleaf pine. My fave playlists should not be heard in their entirety by young children, pregnant or nursing mothers, or the frail and elderly. You'll cry yourself a river, and that could be dangerous.So remember: a little dab will do you. Just sayin'.;)­­"

For Somebody Who Says He Doesn't Like It, He ...

Here's my country music fave list for this decade so far:

"Born to Fly" by Sara Evans

"I'm a Survivor" by Reba McEntire

"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack (original version with Sons of the Desert)

"A Great Day" to be Alive by Travis Tritt

"One More Day" by Diamond Rio (original version)

"We Danced" by Brad Paisley

"Bring on the Rain" by Jo Dee Messina

"Almost Home" by Craig Morgan

"Probably Wouldn't Be This Way" by LeAnn Rimes

"Take the Wheel" by Carrie Underwood

"Leave the Pieces" by the Wreckers

"Where Were You" by Alan Jackson

albums for special mention: Mountain Soul by Patty Loveless

Originally posted to LiveJournal on April 24, 2009

Locking It In (On the Greatest Folk Music Album Ever Made)

This is a purely personal choice.

It's not from Bob. It's not by Joni. And it's not The Weavers, either.

Worse yet, it's not even PP&M ...

---

When I was growing up a record-lovin' teen, folks out here in the sticks could not get their hands anywhere near an LP by the Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot.

The mags would make oblique references to him, as if he were a mysterious bardic spirit only the elite could hear. HIs early recordings were printed on pure Unobtainium vinyl, and the masses could just forget about hearing ol' Gordo till after Judgment Day.

If then ... .

But then, there was If You Could Read My Mind* -- Lightfoot's major label debut, featuring the title track, which covered the radio airwaves like a soft woolen blanket on a wintry Alberta night.

The best thing about the LP was its production value -- not heavy with overdubs or hard-rock backing, it used a simple guitar and bass duo behind Lightfoot, with support from the-then little known Ry Cooder on key tracks.

The real selling point is that the major tracks also featured string ensemble arrangements -- an unheard-of thing for a folk-music mystery man on his first big record.

Arrangements by Nick DeCaro and other aces of the genre made the music soar into family living rooms then split between teenaged rock'n'roll fans and their Perry-Como-and-Lawrence-Welk-loving parents.

Still more unique was the LP's listing credits for arrangers like DeCaro in bold type and to session artists like Cooder at all.

I was I think 14 or so when I bought it for my late Dad for (I think) his birthday, who actually listened to it with me. Crazy, I know. But nice.

I realize hard-core folk aficianados may well quarrel with this choice over seminal LPs from those I mentioned before the LJ cut.

But Lightfoot's album was true to the name: a selection and ordering of songs all made for their total effect on the listener, with the album's money-making title track almost as a bonus. Not that other famous folk LPs didn't do that, but I wonder if any others brought this level of songwriting talent into so many homes with such quiet grace.

Yes, as far as I'm concerned, Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne" is the Greatest Folk Song Ever Recorded (Judy and Suzanne in my archive), and Gordon Lightfoot's If You Could Read My Mind is the Greatest Folk-Music Album Ever Made, and that's that.

(crosses arms and awaits rebuttal)

Originally posted to LiveJournal on April 10, 2009

___

*The original title of the album was Sit Down, Young Stranger -- but the success of the hit single prompted the label to change the title in later shippings to boost sales of the LP. The song referenced by the original title grounds this recording and Lightfoot's legacy squarely in roots folk music.

Backing It Up

This is about a little-known legend in country music. It's this: the backup singer is the most important person in the band.

Back a couple years ago, a certain pop singer decided to switch places with her backup singer who had country-and-western roots. They called their one-time band The Wreckers. The music on it was pop- to alt-country. I personally think there was a reason behind that name: maybe they were "wrecking" the old concept that the backup singer was unimportant. But I really don't know why they used that name -- it's a theory, for sure.

Many pop singers make great use of their backup singers. But in country and western, they are an essential ingredient. From Buck Owens to Taylor Swift, the backup singer provides the all-important "high and lonesome" harmony in the choruses that make the listener's heart melt with empathy. After all, we've all had the blues.

The harmonies are definitely off-key as classical music goes (remember that mercurius-21 is no musician, only an avid listener) but those sounds are part of history in the American South. Several hymnals from early days use "shape-note" singing ("Southern Harmony" and I think "Sacred Harp" are two examples), and some of the "blue" harmony notes in C&W music may have come from that sound.

Sometimes a former backup singer steps into the spotlight -- the result can be misery or magic. But if that singer can make the misery sound magical, they have a career for life.

Most backup singers are the same gender as the frontman or -woman. But there are exceptions.

It's my recollection (I could so easily be wrong) that Dolly Parton was Porter Wagoner's backup. Then, she became the late Wagoner's sidekick on his TV show. Then, she went solo, and then ... .

I know for a fact that Emmylou Harris was backup for Gram Parsons, and there is a classic live album to attest to the magic of that vocal combination.

After Parsons died (drugs, I think), Emmylou got her own album deal. I wasn't feeling the cuts on the first LP (1975's Pieces of the Sky) but the second one called Elite Hotel  -- pronounced ELL-ete HOE-tell if you're really "country" -- sent me to the moon.

Actually, I bought her third LP first -- called Luxury Liner -- and that's what put me in orbit. Then I bought "Elite Hotel" and it shot me into outer space.

You see, Emmylou's first LPs put some great alt-country (the term actually did not exist back then) next to some classic material I grew up listening to -- hard twang and all.

To hear someone like Emmylou rip your heart out with the same stuff you couldn't stand when you were a kid almost strained credulity: "Am I really hearing this?"

Then to have her nail the latest and greatest (truly) from Townes VanZandt or Rodney Crowell on the very next track ... . It was like gold poured in this hillbilly's ears.

As a former backup singer, Emmylou chose her own wisely. First, Ricky Skaggs (as I recall) was her backup singer and fiddle/mandolin sideman in the touring band, and later Fayssoux Starling turned in some dynamite studio harmonies. Ricky put the lonesome sound on the classic songs; Fayssoux got the sighs and tears going on the modern stuff (Afternote: There's an exception mercurius-21 forgot about: 'Hello Stranger' with its "chanty" call-and-response structure.).

Nothing else in the LP racks at that time came close to having this effect on me. And all this came after I graduated from college and got started in a very uncertain world, complete with lousy economy and no real expectations.

These records were friends. They were the backup I needed to crack a Bud to after yet another weird day at work when I really wasn't all that used to weird days at work.

They were gold. Thanks, guys.

Originally posted to LJ on April 8, 2009

The Song Remains the Same

The year was ... well, it was more than one. Mid-to-late 1990s. The situation is described in my post "A poor soul on Pompeii" from last fall.

The scene was a textile manufacturing village as its economy was dying. The little town stradded* railroad tracks, and I literally didhear "that lonesome whistle howl" night after night, as the apartment walls rattled.

The tiny radio station I worked for played country-and-western music all day and all night, between news breaks mornings, noontime and evenings. Most of the music I really could not stand at first, then I could tolerate, and later I found I did actually like some of the tracks.

What follows (following some memory-jogging research) is what resonated with me most from that period:

"Sweet Little Adriana" by Vince Gill

"Tear-Stained Letter" by Patty Loveless

"Strawberry Wine" by Deana Carter

"Burn One Down" by Clint Black

"What Mattered Most" by Ty Herndon

"Don't Call Me Names" by Joe Diffie

"Blue" by Lee Ann Rimes

"Believe Me (I Lied)" by Trisha Yearwood

"In This Life" by Collin Raye

"That's Another Song" by Brian White

You could substitute "High Lonesome Sound" by Gill and "Lonely Too Long" by Ms. Loveless to get an even "bluer" feel, or you could add "Be Good At It" by Neal McCoy and "Old Enough to Know Better" by Wade Hayes for some laughs.

I guess one reason I'm posting this is that I watched parts of a country music awards show recently, and, in my brief viewings, I got more sizzle than steak. The above list may feed the soul hungry for some grassroots Southern working-folks music. Those songs certainly fed mine.

Maybe I'll post my 1980s country faves someday. The list would be shorter -- but maybe more interesting, for reasons I may explain. I could add some 70's country faves to it, but that really would be another song.

Originally posted to LiveJournal on April 6, 2009

___
*'Typos' from the original are left intact, quote marks added.

The Sacred Dead Are The Gold In Our Veins (Always)

We belong to those that have come before us. We owe ourselves to those that come after. It is lonely out here on this desert floor of hate, but we are not alone.

(All the value we possess is our trust. We are its trustees, its keepers for our time to the Trusted One. And we who are living need each other always.)

Our communion is the silver chain that holds us, one to another. And the sacred dead are forever the gold in our veins.

We cannot blame ourselves for what others have done, though we must accept our insufficiency alone. We may not forget our private need to be who we are, but who we are apart means nothing. We hold meaning when we hold each other together, and only then.

Are we sinners? Individually, we are. Are we saints? Together, we may be.

Our errors are our stain. Our love for one another is our shrift. Our sacred dead are our succor. And our salvation lives by One who forges the gold within His holy ring of fire.

Let us enter that fire, if only in remembrance. Let us forget our fear of burning, if only to honor those we have lost whom we love. Let us remember our trust, so we may permit the flame to inspire us through His holy Breath.

Enflamed, we will know.

We will know our knowledge is our love.

And our love is together.

Let us remember never to forget.

It is our choice. And our choice is the seed this desert needs to flower our hope forever.

Forever -- when and where the sacred dead are the gold in our veins.

Originally posted to LJ on March 12, 2009