Music Mondays

I know it's kind of sickening to read sweet stuff from a redhead writing about her husband, so if you feel like you're already gonna hurl, don't read this.

The Old Man and I have the kind of relationship where all emotion is expressed through action: he handles the daycare trips to drop off and pick up The Kid way more than I do; we'll share making dinner and doing the dishes, even though both of us are about ready to fall on our butts from exhaustion; he touches my hair and my face when he comes downstairs in the morning; and he washes my car. Even waxes it. I will refrain from describing the emotional actions in the bedroom, thank you very much.

We rarely talk about anything. We definitely don't talk about feelings. Let me rephrase that: he definitely doesn't talk about feelings. I might ramble on about someone at work and how I'm totally better than they are and I can't believe they said that to me, etcetera, but we don't ever get into the nitty gritty of How are you?

Well, actually, I've been experiencing a general malaise, and I find myself not caring about anything lately.

These conversations do not happen. And so, because these deep conversations do not happen, The Old Man has a tendency to surprise me. Always pleasantly.

This is where the music comes in. I was driving his truck, because he had taken my car to get new tires, and I listened to the CD he made for himself from i-tunes. The same Black-Eyed Peas song I like. The same Norah Jones tunes. Same Michael Jackson songs I downloaded this summer. I almost wrecked, I was so shocked. Here I thought I was married to a 2Pac, Rage Against the Machine, two-band man, and I find that he grooves to (some) of the same stuff I do.

Thanks Old Man for all the pleasant surprises you give me. All of them.

Real. Fresh. Air.

I am from a stretched out interstate bordered by sharp yellow-green dust grass against hazy mountain feet.
I am from a right turn onto new blacktop, then a left turn on a dirt road, one lane under the train bridge, better hope somebody's not coming the other way. Stakes are higher now that there's a three year-old in the backseat.
I am from a hand out the window to touch the way the air has turned fresh two hundred and fifty miles from sour half-assed living, beer headaches, lonely nights of sideways couch-sitting legs curled under eyes between a book and a television.
I am from clouds that glow not city-orange but moon-white.
I am from a place where it rains just enough to tease the plants and where the smell of rain and heat lightning is hot, wet, tormented and moves east too fast.
I am from where it's so dry I have to drink two waters for every beer and where skin lotion is a survival item.

I am from a girl's bedroom with dead quiet nights and a toddler trundle bed caddy corner to where I used to sleep.
I am from wishing star light star bright on the same star I saw when I was little except now it's Grammy and grandson doing the wishing.
I am from the same sharp bright milky way through the big picture window in the upstairs bedroom, except the cottonwood has busted past the horizon and split up the stars.

I am from taking my son to the country so the world can play with him every once in a while.

I am from strong sunlight, no blinds, no neighbors, no need.
I am from a solar-powered coffee maker and power tools always chomping at some part of the house or another.
I am from loose-fitting work clothes and boots caked with dirt and sawdust and gloves with holes in the fingers still good enough to lift two by fours.
I am from thirty second safety lessons from my father: "Use the circular saw. Don't cut off your thumb."

I am from refrigerator magnets:
"The Road to Success is Always Under Construction" and
"Good Guys Finish First" and
Roy Rogers wishing me "Happy Trails" and
James Dean looking at me and
"Peace Rocks" and
"Growing Old is Not For Sissies."

I am from a long walk up the ridge to rocks I climbed on when I was a girl and my boy scrapes his shins and elbows and comes closer to peace here than subdivision living but maybe that's me.

I am from hard grit sandstone molded by God or time but when I'm on my back

palms flat kissing the sandpaper rock

stone under fingers me under sky

it doesn't matter how it came to be

only that it makes me believe again

in my own head and heart and

sticky stubborn stuff that drives me forward through the mundane everyday.

My favorite quote ever. So far this week.

-"Oh well, I guess I'll go outside and try to murder some gophers." - My Mom, who loves her garden.

Music Mondays

Continuing my character playlists. Here's Sam's:

More Than a Feeling, Boston
Purple Rain, Prince
Shattered (Turn the Car Around), O.A.R.
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
Wherever You Will Go, The Calling
Tremble for My Beloved, Collective Soul
The Promise, When in Rome
Time After Time, Quietdrive
Better As a Memory, Kenny Chesney
The Cowboy In Me, Tim McGraw
Goodbye My Lover, James Blunt
Kryptonite, 3 Doors Down
Shimmer, Fuel
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
Doesn't Remind Me, Audioslave
Summertime, Kenny Chesney
Always the Love Songs, Eli Young Band
Here I Go Again, Whitesnake

Demon Spawn

"Mommy," he says,
and smiles with his perfect
three-year-old teeth.
His breath smells like apples.

While he has me captured
arrested
prisoner of his sweet
apple breath

He sticks his thumb
up my nose
and cackles
like demon spawn.

Music Mondays

I recently read advice from an author to make a unique playlist for each character, and listen to it when writing abou the character. I figure it'd be a worthy cause to devote Music Mondays to Amanda, Annie, Nick, Sam, Tavi, Shane, and Vick.

For Amanda, I came up with 48 songs. But here are the quinessential Amanda tunes:

"Please Don't Leave Me," Pink
"Brilliant Disguise," Bruce Springsteen
"I Love Rock n' Roll," Joan Jett & The Blackhearts
"Counting the Days," Goldfinger
"Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money in my Hand," Primitive Radio Gods
"I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," Wilco
"Comedown," Bush
"Drinkin' my Baby Goodbye," The Charlie Daniels Band
"Straight Tequila Night," John Anderson
"Neon Moon," Brooks & Dunn
"Get it While You Can," Janis Joplin
"Far Behind," Candlebox
"What I've Done," Linkin Park
"Melody of You," Single File
"Slip Slidin' Away," Paul Simon
"Superstar," Sonic Youth
"Time After Time," Sparklemotion
"Tire Swing," Kimya Dawson
"I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight," U2
"Settlin'," Sugarland
"Wake Up," Arcade Fire
"Wide Open Spaces," Dixie Chicks