I don't have any brothers or sisters, but Marisa comes as close to kin as possible without sharing DNA. We've known each other so long we often forget how we met, but the answer is music, the neighbourhood, life. We've traveled, toured, performed in strange places, had huge fun. The only point we ever disagree about is the nature of time. She thinks there is plenty available and tells me not to worry. I'm convinced that there isn't enough to accomplish everything that needs doing.
"This Mama works until her back is sore/but the baby's fed and the tunes are pure" -Sleater-Kinney, "Step Aside" from the album "One Beat" Besides the financial part of it, it's also really important to me to be a happy person, just to be doing work that I enjoy. I think that a depressed mom is not a great thing for a kid. . . I think it's important to take care of myself and keep doing work. But I do feel really guilty about having to go on tour without him.
Speaking of pioneer mythologies, America is largely responsible for giving the world the stereotype of the self-made man.
It would be so nice if it were true - but even those of us who were invented out of a scrap heap have someone in our history who deserves credit and gratitude.
Traveling back down Gene Autry Way, everything here is familiar and known. Comfortable. Understood. References to public scandals I've never heard about about feel correctly calibrated. I no longer recognise the people in the newspaper, but I get the cadence.
The real puzzle is not the fact that I live in a different country: it is the fact that I am no longer poor. I'm living out the classic story of the country boy seeking his fortune in the big city, but how many of those novels have happy endings?
Tauba is the first stateside friend to visit, though I was so distracted by the search for furniture it was hard to drag myself away to socialise. There were many exchanges of which neighbourhood are you in? and random failed hookups before we actually managed to meet and catch up on news.
Looking back now it feels like I was barely out of school when I became a mother. But, I’d partied pretty hard beforehand. The main impact was less time to myself – obviously. I’m not going to kid anyone and say it wasn’t hard work. But, I still found time to play guitar and write songs. My children heard he songs – the ones they liked I kept, the ones they didn’t I dropped. Who needs the X factor panel!
"You'll never guess what Jess' dad offered me." Through the phone, I heard the freeway rushing past Tracie's open car window, warbling the sound of her voice.
"What?" I asked, sitting on the edge of our bed, short of breath from rushing my seven-and-a-half-months pregnant self down the hall to answer the call.
"Tickets to the Prince concert."
"What?! No F-ing way."
At 9:00pm on a Friday, I was busy trying to get my monkeys (Satchel, age 4 and Jiro, age 2) in bed so I could sneak out and interview Kate Crowder, the lead singer of my new favorite band, Two Way Radio (formerly known as Walkie Talkie and briefly as Side Walk Talk). At 9:25pm, I said goodbye to my husband and drove down the street to a local bar where Kate said she'd be hanging out until their 11:00pm show time. As I nervously walked into the nearly empty bar, I saw Kate and her husband/bandmate, Corey, slip out the back door.